Since my past few blogs have been heavy levy, I decided to post some fun stories of rather humorous events that have taken place since I've moved. Realize though, I'm famous for my lame sense of humor. So if these stories don't make you laugh, then I'm not hurt by that. I'm very aware I'm not called to be a comedian.
So...this is the first time that I'm living on my own. With that territory, comes lessons that you just have to live to learn. I have two stories in mind where I definitely....maybe, learned my lesson. :)
One morning I was wanting to eat oatmeal. I put the pan on the stove with the right amount of water to boil. While the water was heating up, I got a phone call. The person on the other line was asking me questions, forcing me to put more attention to their questions than what I was doing at the stove. So, without thinking, I added the oatmeal before the water came to a boil. I realized my mistake fairly quickly but decided it should be okay. Shortly after, I was off the phone and was able to focus more on what I was doing. However, what I didn't notice was that smoke was coming out from the pan. Suddenly this loud, sharp beeping started blaring through my apartment! You should have seen my face! I wish that I had seen my OWN face!! I jumped, my heart in my throat, beating a million miles an hour and my eyes were wide open in panic. I must have stood there for half a minute in fear and panic before I realized the source...my fire/smoke alarm. I was scrambling through my apartment trying to find it. I found it on my ceiling in my "hallway." So I scrambled on top of my short table by my couch and was desperately trying to turn it off ASAP!! My fingers searched and search but could not find an off button. Nothing on the face of the alarm was turning off the source of my wild panic. So I tried the sides, pulling and twisting. Then POP! The whole unit fell out of the ceiling into my hands. The beeping stopped and I stared at the alarm dumbfounded. I didn't know what to do about the now gaping hole in my ceiling, so I just threw it on my couch. If I had my way, I would've taken my pink-handled hammer to it to destroy the thing that almost gave me a panic attack. So...I went back to my oatmeal. It was seemed done, so I plopped down (my heart rate was about back to normal now) and started eating it. GAG!! The texture was a thick paste...and what it felt like was what it tasted like. It was like eating edible glue. Yet, I ate it all. (so I didn't feel bad for waisting)
I'm a little more careful and attentive when I cook oatmeal now. :) My alarm however, stayed on the couch for almost a week before I put it back in the ceiling...where it threatened to go off at my slightest cooking mistake. (Which it has...sadly, often)
The second story still makes me laugh. After a night out with the REC team, I had leftovers. (Salmon and corn) The next day, I was eager to eat my leftovers. I preheated my oven to 300 and planned on just heating it up for five minutes. Well, I thought the take-home box was made of plastic. I thought to myself, "Plastic can last five minutes!" So I stuck the whole box in, lid and all, into the oven. Two minutes later, I decided to check on it. My heart did a back flip in my chest when I saw what had happened. The lid had melted on the rack and was drooping down between the metal and threatening to drip onto the oven floor. The sides of the box were warping and melting, on it's way to becoming a big, black pancake. I FREAKED OUT!! I immediately called PJ. As I was explaining what I had done, I was using a steak knife to peel the lid off the rack. He was freaking out a little too..."Becca! That's not plastic! That's Styrofoam!! You are NEVER to heat Styrofoam in the oven or microwave!"
I managed to get the whole box out in one piece. The food...was perfectly heated. My thinking was, "Well, it didn't melt into the food. Why not? I'm gonna have my salmon and eat it too!" So I did. Later PJ freaked out again saying that the toxins from Styrofoam can be poisonous. Opps...
But no worries. :) Nothing happened. Even my oven didn't get damaged or ruined. Needless to say, though, I learned my lesson. Eat your leftovers on a plate, even though that means more dishes.
Hope you at least smiled at my stories. :) Thanks for reading.