On Fire

A funny thing happens when you walk in on a kitchen fire. You don't immediately go into problem-solving mode, you go immediately into blame-assigning mode. And suddenly, you will forget 100% of everything you know about fire.

I was literally boiling water when I started a small fire tonight. I set my teapot on the burner, turned up the heat and went back to laying on the couch and watching Food Network. It was like I could SMELL the food that they were making on Worst Cooks in America (seriously...could there be any more relevant show for me to be watching?) Wait, that's not the TV. That's real life. Something was burning.

At first I was like, "I'm only boiling water. What could be burning? I'll just ignore it." So I ignored the blatant burning smell for like 3 more minutes until I was like "Wow. That's just getting burn-ier." I rolled off the couch and strolled into the kitchen. The front burner was COMPLETELY on fire.

As soon as I saw the flames, I thought "WHAT DID GEO SPILL UNDERNEATH THE BURNER!?" I ran over to the fire and then just stood there. The flames were shooting up around the teapot and I could not, for the life of me, figure out what to do.

The last time I started a kitchen fire, I was attempting to make wontons. I poured about 3 cups of oil into a pot and cranked the heat up to 11. Now, oil doesn't boil like water. Instead, it starts on fire. And then it's not the same kind of fire you throw water on. It's an oil fire. So when my pot was completely engulfed with flames, I grabbed the handle and moved it to the counter...there was a permanent black ring on the counter to serve as a constant reminder that I should not boil oil. Luckily, I was so scared of the fire, that I just brought the pot outside instead of throwing water on it. Outta sight, outta mind. The flames died down, and the house was still standing.

So tonight when I saw the flames, I thought "I'll just bring the teapot outside!" So I did, but that didn't do ANYTHING because it was not the teapot that was on fire. It was the stove. I went back to the fire and just stood there, blowing on the fire. Blowing and blowing. And the fire got bigger and bigger.

I think it was at that moment when the panic actually set in. "I DON'T OWN THIS HOUSE. I COULD BURN IT DOWN AND IT'S GOT ALL MY BEST STUFF IN IT!" I kept blowing on the fire while trying to reach for a towel. I see people smother fire with towels all the time! But I couldn't find one. I ran away from the fire to go back outside to get the teapot so I could dump water on the fire. (What's that? The sink was 6 inches away from the fire and I could have just used that? Screw you.)

When I got back to the fire, it was still going and I just stood there, holding a burned teapot full of water, and just went back to blowing on the fire. Eventually -- and mercifully -- the fire started going out.

Geo got home shortly after I nearly set our house on fire and then saved our lives and he goes "Whoa! What's burning!?" And I said "I don't know, whatever you dropped into the burner last night?! GOSH!" And then Geo said "Sorry, what were you making?" And I said "Water." And he said "Wow."

Anyway, I'm never cooking again and I'm going back to using my Keurig for tea. And somehow pasta.

A Valentine

Oh Valentine's Day, aren't you just the darndest? It's all hearts and glitter and forcing Geo to get me chocolate and then yelling at him through my tears when he finds me under the bed covered in wrappers demanding, "Why did you get me chocolate?! I'm fat! I'm so fat! Why don't you love me?!"

See, that is why this day is just ridiculous. People want cards and flowers and candy and other things that serve no purpose. (Unless you receive them at work so you can brag to everyone that someone loves you even though you forgot to brush your teeth today.) Yeah, it's all pretty and delicious, but what happens at the end of the day? You're just fat with dead flowers that you forgot to water.

Romantic.

But the one thing I DO love about Valentine's Day is that it actually celebrates the ancient and forgotten art of WRITING. For centuries, people wrote love notes and passed them to their beloved by way of a donkey or something. They'd risk beheadings and dragons and evil Kings (OMG, I cannot WAIT for Game of Thrones!) just to tell their one true love that he or she was the bomb. All that work and risk just to let that person read how you feel.

Now THAT'S romance.

So here are some mini Valentine's for all the people/things I love.

My dearest TV,
How do I love thee? Let me count the channels. Food Network, Comedy Central, HGTV and whatever channel is showing Friends reruns. You nourish me, make me laugh, teach me new things and make me feel comfortable. TV, you are truly the best companion.

To my beloved Uggs,
I cannot imagine how I lived any sort of life before you came into it. Not a day goes by when I do think about slipping into your warm embrace, always welcoming. And of feet, nonetheless!

Kate Spade,
On my darkest days, I yearn for your bright colors, cheerful patterns and whimsical jewelry. The light you bring to my life is second only to the emptiness you bring to my wallet. I shall love thee for eternity.

Oh! My fair Soda Stream,
There you stand on my counter, stoic and strong. Ready to transform water into exhilaration at the press of a button. Without you, my brave hero, I would be forever thirsty, dry-throated from desire. Drinking straight vodka out of the bottle.

I love you, Every Crazy Celebrity,
Would that I could choose just one, but alas! I cannot. Collectively, your desperate need for the spotlight and passion for terrible decision-making skills make me feel like a healthy, well-adjusted adult. You are the only people who can make me feel this way, and for that I could never rely on another.

Is that you, wedding china?
My delicate lover.  My fragile friend. My most beautiful Valentine. Though you remain behind glass, I can only hope that you feel how much I adore you. I shall love you forever, until I inevitably break you while trying to set up a fancy dinner of bagels and straight vodka.

Have I forgotten anyone? Oh, my husband? Well, I have a special Valentine for him. Let's just say it starts out with "Husband, sorry for not showering a lot. I'll be better. Or not. Either way, you are legally obligated to love me and I love that about you." And the sappiness only gets better from there...but I'll spare you the deets.

Anyway, I hope you all have a fantastic, loving an romantical Valentine's Day! And hey, why not take a stab at writing a love note? Leave Hallmark alone and write your own damn feelings down! It'll be fun!

I love you all, my dear, sweet readers!

Versa...AHHH!!!!

You guys? My friend Kim is getting married this weekend! Weeeee! I'm so excited for the wedding, and I'm DOUBLE excited that I am a bridesmaid!

So, I've got my shoes, some jewelry, the dress, the hair and makeup appointment, and I really thought I was all set. Then these two enormous zits popped up on my face. Oh, and I'm...bustier in the dress than I was 10 pounds ago. I sort of panicked. What does a girl do when she's going to be in a formal event in 3 days in order to detract from her "before Proactiv" face and her pasty, untoned arms?

She goes tanning. Spray tanning.

It all sounded like such a good idea. I found a coupon for a free spray tan and had a night free, so I gave approximately 2 minutes of thought into the decision to just go get me some color. I had done it successfully like 8 years ago, so I just assumed I'd be a pro.

When I got to the salon, they gave me a choice between an enclosed spray tan booth and an open one. The fumes from the UV beds were already choking me, so I opted for the open booth. It was a VersaSpa booth or something. I pored over the instructions on the wall while I took off my wedding rings, tucked my hair into the shower cap and slathered something called "Barrier Cream" on my hands and feet. What does it do? I don't know. But Instructions told me to put it on, and I'm not about to go with the flow on this one.

I was standing in the booth when that scene from Friends punched me in the judgement part of my brain. You know, this one?

So I only have a few seconds to super-panic before the VersaVoice announces the spray is going to start. I snap to attention and obediently stand in the first position. It sprays and dries. It's surprisingly gentle and tickle-y. Oh crap, I forget what's next! OMG! What's the next position? Luckily, technology has advanced in 8 years and the voice came on again to tell me where to stand. Spray, dry. Position 3. Spray, dry. Turn around, spray, dry. It all was going so well.

But then I go through one more drying pass and step out of the booth. I'm starting to dab my fingers and elbows, as instructed, when the voice inside the booth interrupts my self-congratulations.

"Press green button to begin bronzing level."

What?! No one said anything about a SECOND round! What do I do? What do I do?! OMG! WHAT THE EFF DO I DO!? Will I get four 4's? HELP!

Like any obedient robot, I got back in the booth. Images from Kim's wedding flashed through my head. Me, ruining every picture with my orange skin. Me, staining Kim's wedding dress with Cheeto-y smears the instant I hug her. Me, wiping tears of joy from my eyes as Kim walks down the aisle, only to notice my professional makeup job is dripping down my broken-out face. Why was I back in the booth!?

I was accidentally (but luckily) in position 1 when the spray started. Then the drying. Then instead of positions 2 and 3, the VersaBot ordered me right to position 4. I spun around and it was at that moment I realized my ENTIRE BODY was shaking. My body was rebelling against the unexpected sprays and my relentless need to follow instructions. I was shaking so badly that I could feel the once-gentle mist being violently flung from my body.

The VersaTron released me from it's casual dictatorship with a "Thank you for using/nearly passing out in VersaSpa. Use caution when exiting the booth." I leapt out of the booth carelessly and slipped. This is why we follow instructions, people! As I was considering taking the complimentary towel and smearing all the still-moist color off my body, it occurred to me that the VersaGod had not previously instructed me to exit the booth with care. I was not supposed to have gotten out the FIRST time.

And then I remembered that in discussing my color options, the girl up front told me that I could choose from three color levels and two finishing tones. After careful consideration and probably 20 minutes of discussion with the girl, I had chosen level 1 and bronzer in order to achieve a healthy glow. Had I stayed out of the booth like my fear-instincts wanted me to, I would have left with a light tint to my skin and no bronze.

The VersaQueen had not steered me wrong. I had gotten exactly what I had (not) paid for and my heart had settled back in my chest after jumping into my throat. I got dressed and breathed a huge sigh of relief. And when I got home, I could already see a tiny tan line starting to form and was definitely pleased with the results.

The stress, however, has angered my zits and I fear they may not recover quite as quickly. Oh well, at least my face is tan now.