Great Bowls of Fire

I am writing this post with burning eyes and blackening lungs. I knew this would happen sometime in the duration of dorm living. The first fire.

But let us back up.

Vanessa, Selene and I are in our dorm, talking and doing homework. V & I are making preparations to go to Nordstrom's Rack in a minute. Vanessa throws some Top Ramen in the microwave for a quick lunch before we leave to shop. It's instant Top Ramen in a paper cup where one just adds water.

Minutes pass and Vanessa returns to the microwave. She calmly says, "Why does this look like it's on fire?"

Selene and I, not really paying attention, laugh lightly and politely, and we go about our business.

Then Vanessa goes, "...because I didn't put WATER in the bowl!"

It WAS on fire.

She pressed cancel on the microwave, but hesitated to open it, for fear of what was to come.

I immediately stood on a chair and began fanning the smoke detector with a worksheet I'd been doing.

Selene readies a cup of water, and Vanessa opens the microwave. Instantly, a plume of smoke is released and engulfs our entire room.

Selene throws the water onto the flames and I continue fanning the smoke detector frantically. We open the door to the hall, but we don't want the HALL smoke detector to go off. It never does, though.

I ask for something else to fan with an Vanessa hands me a book. It works much better and succeeds at diverting the smoke.

On a funny/ironic note: the book that fanned away the smoke was Mere Christianity. C.S. Lewis saves the day again.

At this point I am coughing, and squinting through the smoke. Selene decides to peace out to go to class, and Vanessa has left the room to get some air.

Mind you, the cup of Ramen is still in the microwave.

Once I can't stand the smoke any longer, I leave the room and am greeted by some other girls on our hall who are laughing at us and asking what we cremated.

My friend Raechel from next door ventures in with me and we retrieve the burnt offering from the microwave. Here's what it looks like:

So then we put it in a plastic bag and take it outside.

I then Febreeze the room, but at this point, nothing can really conceal or overpower the smoke.

A bunch of girls leave to go to lunch, Vanessa included, leaving me to sit in the hallway while our room airs out. But now the whole hall smells like burnt toast and everyone who walks down our hall says to me, "What did you DO?"

"I didn't do anything," I say.

Then my default explanation to people walking by becomes: "I live with an arsonist."

"Don't to mean a narcissist?"

"Nope."

Then they smell the smoke and say, "Oh..."

So I'm thinking when I see Vanessa's boyfriend next time, I'll say: "Ernesto, marry her at your own risk. If you want her to make you dinner...you may regret it."

All jokes aside, I love Vanessa. Once I can breathe again, I will forgive her. ;)