I’m getting ready for work this morning and I plug in my hair dryer. I turn it on, round brush in one hand, ready to go, and the thing starts shooting flames from the base.

Flames.

This has never, ever happened to me before. And I’d say I’ve been using a hair dryer since at least 1987. (Not this specific hair dryer, of course.)

I scream a couple of times and try to get to the outlet to unplug it before realizing that, duh, I should turn the thing OFF first. I switch it off and drop it on the floor, then unplug it.

Jen, whom I’ve of course woken up with my screaming, mumbles “are you okay?”

“NO! My hair dryer is on fire.”

“Oh. I thought it was bee-related. You can use mine.”

I go back into my bedroom, where the stench of burnt electrical cord hovers like, um, something that hovers.

side note, I asked R for suggestions to finish the sentence, and these are what I got:

…hovers like a vaccuum cleaner with a missing o.

…hovers like a star, twixt night and morn, upon the horizon’s verge. (okay, that one was written by lord byron.)

…hovers like that fake ghost in the “fright night” episode of the brady bunch.

hee!

So now, I need to add “hair dryer” to the list of things I could have really done without spending money on this month. Gr.