It first started when I was a wee child; a small girl of pre-school years.
I remember it being a birthday party, though I’m not sure it was mine. There was cake which I knew to be yummy, wax sticks which were of no interest to me, and then there were the flames.
Beautiful peaks of light that sparkled and danced to their own music. I was instantly drawn in. I leaned in to get a better look …
and completely burnt my bangs off. But the damage was done; I was in love with fire.
Fire is truly alive you know. It feeds, it breathes, it lives and dies. To me it was magical. Every camp fire, I had to be near. Every fireplace, needed to be active. And every birthday cake, needed-candles. I would over roast marsh mallows in hopes that I could catch for just an instant some of the fire on my stick. I whined about cold. I tried to lie about my age in hopes of getting more candles on my cake, and my love afair grew stronger.
And then one day, having fire when it was necessary or appropriate wasn’t enough. I needed fire. I needed to have it when I wanted it. I needed to not only control it, but to possess it.
I got my oppertunity finally while I was in college. It was spring break my sophomore year. Most of the students in the building I lived in were home, including my roommates.
I was nearly all alone and restless. And I remembered fire.
Using the stove would be too public and I wanted to be all alone with my fire so I had to build it in my own apartment. I first set out to find some matches, and then I began to build the most amazing fire you could ever imagine. Of course I set the smoke alarm off, despite my efforts not to, but then Something amazing happened.
Men came. They were hot men, and they were coming to kill my fire. But at that point I didn’t care; They were hot and I was alone and in “grave danger.”
So I leaned out the window,waved my arm, struck a pose, and called,
“Hey boys!”

Ok and for reals? This never actually happened. I really hope none of you thought I was a little pyromaniac over here. hee hee
I do like fire, but I am also very afraid of it. I would never try to set one on my own and especially in the middle of my apartment while my roommates were away.
Someone else actually set the alarm off with their cooking, ha!
I was asleep at the time, but wen two of my roommates came over to the croud of us waiting to go back inside, they totally blamed me!
“What, did you get bored?”
“Yeah,did you just get lonely or something?”
“I bet she did. She pulled the fire alarm and was all,’ hey boys.'”
Hi-larious those friends of mine are.
And this is the story of how I became obsessed with hot firemen. No, not just one, whole squods of them.
Though now I’m actually in to sailors
ginger-headed ones,
47 of them. hee hee!

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