i smell... hair.

we have gas appliances, and i am a moron.

that statement, coupled with the title of this post, should clue you in as to what happened during my latest adventure in mexico: lighting the oven.

all i wanted to do was make brownies.  i'd seen matt light the oven once before, and i had him give me explicit instructions over the phone on how to proceed.  i was still hesitant to do it by myself because gas has always struck fear in my heart.  i just don't feel comfortable with it, and something about putting a match into an oven filled with flammable gas just screams medical emergency.  but i was sick of being scared to do anything by myself here in mexico, so i placed fox in the other room, safe from the action, and i decided to just buck up and do it.

gas running...

match lit...

here goes nothing...

WHOOSH!

the heat knocked me over like i'd been hit by a truck, and i immediately felt the hair on my head and face crisp up.  and there it goes, i thought -- i am going to be disfigured and bald.  in a sheer panic and still not sure if my clothes were on fire or not, i ran to the bathroom to face the mirror.  i was spared from disfigurement, and praise heaven nothing else on me was burning, but there, into the sink it fell -- clumps of charred, orange hair... from my head, my eyebrows, my eyelashes, my arms... and the smell.  oh the smell.  

i said a quick prayer to my Maker to thank him that i was still alive and that the only casualties from my shinanigans were my hair and my dumb pride.  i'm still not sure what went wrong, but needless to say, i don't think i'll be trying my hand at baking with lard anytime soon.  anybody know any good mexican cosmetologists?

i tried to capture a bit of the beauty, but pictures really don't do the damage justice.

upon further investigation, i realized that even my poor, curious dog had been singed. gunther now has twizzler eyebrow whiskers.