Summer of Stories: Marshmallows & the Eternal Flame

In addition to the snowball incident, my friends Rachel and Anna and I had more than our share of adventures. There was the popcorn incident. There was the goldfish swallowing incident. There was the time Rachel passed out on me in the student union. One of the most memorable adventures, though, was the night we roasted marshmallows over the Eternal Flame.

Our school mascot was/is the Flames. As in fire. It's supposed to be all pentecostal and charismatic, I guess, but I've always thought it to be lacking. I think we used to be the Vikings back in the 1950s, but I guess it was too violent. Or too Nordic. I don't know.

So, because of the mascot we had this fountain with a gas-lit "eternal" flame in the middle. Only it wasn't eternal, because I think it blew out more often than it was actually lit. Anyway, on one particularly cold night, Anna and Rachel and I observed the fact that we had an extra bag of marshmallows, for whatever reason. We also observed that, if we bent a couple of metal clothes-hangers, we'd have the perfect equipment for roasting said marshmallows.

And thus it began.

The eternal flame was right across the street from our dorm, so we bundled up, slipped on hoodies for anonymity, and strolled nonchalantly over to the fountain. It being below freezing, the fountain had been emptied and was quite dry, so we proceeded to climb inside and begin roasting our 'mallows. Now, this sort of adventure was highly frowned upon by campus security, so every time a patrol drove by we had to lay down inside the fountain to avoid detection.

We successfully roasted and consumed several petroleum-flavored marshmallows, upping our carcinogen levels for the next few weeks. We figured that we didn't smoke or drink, so a marshmallow or two probably wasn't going to overwhelm our bodies defenses.

There may have also been a few Native American-style fire dances around the flame. To stay warm, of course.

As a refresher, here's the three of us, pre-roast:

Summer of Stories: The "Snowball Incident"

Rachel, Me & Anna, incognito.

My friends Rachel and Anna and I were destined to be friends in college. We all entered our college experience as members of the Freshman Honor Corps, a group of study-focused individuals (read: nerds) that spent the semester taking challenging courses together and participating in crazy team-building activities. Rachel and I became fast friends and became known as "the Rachels" (I miss you, other half!), and Anna frequently joined us on our adventures.

And we had many adventures, or rather, adventurous mishaps. The most infamous of these was the Snowball Incident of 2003, which began with us innocently enjoying a particularly heavy January snowfall, sliding around in the parking lots and making snow balls out of the fresh piles accumulating on commuters' cars. This progressed to a full-on snowball fight, after which, in a rush of pink-nosed giddiness, we decided to take our snowball fight into one of the dorms and ambush our friend Jackie.

So, we began the journey from our current parking lot across campus to Jackie's dorm, carrying our carefully-packed snowballs. Attempting to outdo the rest of us, Rachel kept rolling her snowball into each patch of fresh snow we encountered. The snowball was the size of a tennis ball, then a softball, then a small cantaloupe. Right before we ran into the dorm, she took advantage of one more undisturbed spot of snow, primly located in the dormitory's landscape area. The snowball was now rather bowling ball-sized; it was no longer white, but was covered in a fresh layer of mulch and dirt from the landscape area. A slushy landscape ball, if you will.

The three of us ran up the stairs, knocked on Jackie's door, and waited. She opened the door, hair freshly washed and dried and a clean outfit on. Anna and I threw our dainty snowballs. Splat. Splat. We all kinda giggled. We looked at Rachel, and she threw the monster. SPLOOSH.

It landed on Jackie's head and kind of slid down the side of her face. And then we feared for our lives, so we ran.

Jackie didn't speak to us for weeks. It took lots of apologies and "please forgive us" cards before we could be friendly again. We even volunteered to come shampoo the dirt out of her carpet.

I've never laughed so hard in my entire life. I haven't seen or talked to Jackie in years, but as for Anna and Rachel and I, that snowball cemented our friendship.