» When were you last really scared?

I still shiver when I think about this.
My parents gave me a horse about two years ago. His name is Cinch--he's a Quarter horse gelding, about 15 hands high (1 hand = 4 inches, for you non-horse people, and 4 inches = 10.16 cm for you metric-system users). Absolutely beautiful sorrel (rich mahogany-brownish-red)... anyways, the people we bought him from failed to tell us that he'd never been out on a trail ride in his entire life.
My parents bought him for me in July, and after working with him for a few months, I felt that by October I'd be ready to go trail riding on him.
So, we went out behind the barn at the place I board at--it's got like 100 acres or something ginormous like that, so it goes on forever--and went on the "bunny" trail, just to try it out.
This trail is about 5 miles (8 km, more or less), and it just goes in a straight line right on past the cornfields.
So I hop on, and Cinch is doing fantastic. We're going along at a walk at first, then a trot, then a walk. We're about a quarter of the way through the trail when the cornstalks on my left begin to rustle.
Now, it's October, so by this point, the cornstalks are VERY dry and thus make A LOT of noise when shaken, even slightly.
Cinch begins to trot a little faster. I calm him down somewhat, and then he's okay again.
More rustling.
Cinch's ears begin to flatten against his head in fear, and he starts gnawing at the bit like crazy, the whites of his eyes visible from way up in the saddle (remember, I'm about 60 inches, or 152 cm, above the cold, hard ground). I grip the reins a little tighter.
The corn rustles yet again, this time practically right under us.
Cinch turns around, neighs, rears up onto his back legs, and bolts--completely forgetting that I'm on him.
[Sidenote: quarter horses were developed to be the fastest horses in a quarter-mile (.4-km) race--they can gallop that distance at a rate of up to 30 - 35 mph, easily.]
Cinch is galloping as fast as he can. I turn around--I was expecting a coyote or something to be following us, but there was nothing there--then face forward again, heart pumping, sweating bullets, knuckles white from gripping the reins.
I don't have a clue as to what I should do.
Do I stay on as long as I can and just ride it out?
Do I jump off now, hoping he doesn't trample me?
WHAT THE CRAP DO I DO NOW?
Then, oh crap.
Crap.
Crap.
CRAP.
About 300 yards (274 m) in front of me is a rusty barbed-wire fence. And I can feel Cinch getting ready to jump.
We're rapidly coming up to this fence--and by "rapidly", I mean still at a 25 mph, flat-out, panick-induced gallop--and the only thing I know for sure is that I don't want to be skewered on a rusty barbed-wire fence.
Ever.
I'm losing my grip on the reins (my palms are sweating like crazy at this point, and my voice is hoarse [no pun intended :/] from yelling, "WHOA! WHOA! WHOA, BOY! WHOA!").
Just before slipping off, I squeeze his neck one last time.
I close my eyes and roll off.
I just did the equivalent of shoulder-rolling out of an SUV going 25 mph.
I roll off Cinch's right side, yet when I land, I'm on his left.
I ROLLED UNDER MY HORSE.
UNDER MY 1200-LB (544-KG) HORSE.
My head smacks the hard, almost-frozen ground one, two, three, four times--I count as I feel it coming in contact with the earth. I roll over my own left elbow (and yes, I'm left-handed, too, so this left me in a lot of pain and not being able to write after the incident) and I hear--and feel--something crack in my left arm.
My back about folds in half, in the wrong direction, and I roll for a few feet until I stop in the dry, hard stubble of the harvested portion of a cornfield.
Oh, my God.
Oh, my God.
Can I move?
Am I dead?
Where is my horse?
The amazing thing is, is that my brother (who was just around at the other end of the trail) reached out and fricking CAUGHT MY HORSE BY THE REINS. Just like John Wayne would've done.

I wound up with a chipped humerus, severe bruising all over my body, and multiple cuts and scrapes from rolling into the corn stubble.
My horse was fine.

A month later, I was back on him again.

I still ride--I love to--and am honestly not afraid of him or the trail (which I went back out on and conquered the next time I rode, by the way). But every now and again, I'll have a nightmare of my accident... the last time I was really scared.
(Fri 23rd Feb 2007, 1:18, More)

» Other people's diaries

Oh noes.
I felt just awful when I read my sis's diary. Then I LOLed because it was so funny.

Jan. 3rd, 2007:
"I like this boy in my class. He sits next to me in art, too. One time, in art class, he farted really loud and I thought it was funny. He is cute."

Flatulence--the tie that binds. Or whatever.
**insert guilt at reading little sis's diary here**
(Sun 4th Feb 2007, 19:01, More)

» * PFFT *

I was at a museum one time...
yes, a museum--DEADLY quiet--when this old man of about 75 walks up to the same display I'm looking at. Okay, fine, whatever.
Out of the corner of my eye, I see him get this intense look of concentration and concern. With his brow furrowed, lips pressed tightly together, and (I swear) beads of sweat forming on his wrinkly old forehead, he suddenly stops. His eyes grow wide and his mouth falls slack.
"BRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRT!" says his butt. His high-waisted flannel pants do nothing to muffle the sound now echoing through the otherwise silent exhibit hall, nor the smell that could only be described as egg salad that has been forgotten in the backseat of a car that was parked outside in the sunshine in August and left for two weeks. Yes, it was that bad.
He turns to me, beaming, his eyes almost squeezed shut because he's smiling so big.
Never in my life have I sprinted to a women's bathroom so fast.
Too bad my gag reflex beat me, though.
(Fri 13th Jul 2007, 15:56, More)

» Top Tips

You should definitely know this.
If you place a slice of bologna on the hood of someone's car on a sunny day, it'll eat the paint off in a nice, neat circle. It's always fun to make holes in the shape of eyes and a smiley face, though, so your victim will smile every time he sees the big patch of missing paint on his car.

Almost.
(Fri 30th Mar 2007, 2:06, More)

» Top Tips

It's almost time for the kiddies to go on spring break here in God's Blind Spot, USA...
...so I thought I'd mention a couple tips.

* Don't eat/drink citrusy stuff before sunbathing, as this will result in "lime burn", a condition in which your tan is splotchy or mottled... unfortunately, it also tends to occur around the mouth so it's especially un-sexy. It's called "lime burn", but it can happen with any citrusy food/drink. Beware the lime burn.

* Nail polish wears off really easily when you go to the beach or the pool, so make sure you put on an extra coat or two of topcoat before you swim--the sand, salt water, and chlorine are killer on your nails.

* Sharks are attracted to shiny jewelry (they shimmer like fish scales do). Remove any rings, necklaces, etc. before swimming in the ocean.

* You should use about a shot glass-full of sunscreen a day in the summer (that's about 1.5 fl oz).

That's all I can think of at the moment.
(Wed 21st Mar 2007, 2:26, More)