Monday, February 20, 2012

How I Almost Burned The Dorm Down


Halogen lights cause fires!
What on earth is it about young women and men who break their hearts? If a woman is a mere nineteen, why does she think this is the end of the world? I did. This is not the point of this blog.

It was my first year at the pristine University of Puget Sound in Tacoma, Washington. I lived on the third floor of Anderson-Langdon Hall with three roomies. I think I lived with three, it might have been four. There was a lot of room swapping going on so my memory evades me. Get this, though! There were men on the floor too!

With men on the same dorm room floor as the women, it was a challenge. Men play music very loudly. They walk down hallways with towels wrapped around their waists. They watch football games in packs and yell in their loud manly voices. Thank God the bathrooms were separate. Still, it shocked me to see posted in the women's bathroom a sign that read, "If you throw up, clean it up." What? I wanted my mom and I wanted her now! She was several states away. I generously saved my throwing up for her when I returned home after taking some brutal finals.

My mum did not clean up after me, however. I was too old at that point. She told me to clean up after myself. This is still not the point of my blog.

I now return you to the top of the story. A boy broke up with me. My roomie Ruthie grabbed my sobbing sorry ass and hauled me down the hallway to talk. However, I had been studying in my lower bunk while sobbing with a halogen light placed next to the wooden bunkbed. I am guessing those have been replaced with metal by now thanks to a smart admistrator, lawyer, trial lawyer or someone. You know what is coming.

The halogen light started to burn the post which caused the smoke alarm to go off and water to spray. Oh ya, I started a fire in the dorm over a boy whose name I don't even remember. I was now in more trouble than ever. One woman in particular read me the riot act. I mean, I figured she was going to literally toss me out the third floor window and onto the quad below.

"Things are ruined! Look what you have done! You could have killed us!" Absolutely no one died because of me that night. Now I had new problems. The glares, the reputation, the humiliation.

Months later some men were visiting our campus from Whitman College in Walla Walla, Washington. I almost picked this college instead, but I thought Alison Whiteman at Whitman in Walla Walla sounded quite absurd. One introduced himself and said, "and you are....." I replied, "Alison." He said, "Alison who set the fire in the dorm room?" OMG! I was legend to the eastern part of the state! I was never ever going to get anyone to date me again! An arsonist! A freak!

I went to my usual spot on the top floor of the library, a small cubicle where I could study madly for exams at a small liberal arts college. The academic standards then were quite high. Even with a mere 3.2 GPA after my first semester, I was in the top ten percent of the incoming freshman class. I flunked halogen lightbulb common sense though. My light was not only not halogen, but not on. I sure loved learning everything I learned at The University of Puget Sound. I did not hate a single class. Well, okay, maybe philosophy. It was the only class where I literally fell asleep on my desk. The quite dull professor not only rambled on and on and on about things that bored me to tears, he dragged chalk across the board while rambling. I thought I was going to die of boredom. I got a "B" in his class as well. I am just a B. I am not an A. Wait, I am! I am Alison! -AW

2 comments:

Anonymous said...

So my daughter is an arsonest? I dont think so or my house would not be here today. Dad

Tacoma Gawker said...

LOL Dad. I assume this is my dad. How did you figure out how to make comments at last? LOL