friday the 13th

I have a Friday the 13th story  that I just had to share. Now, just so you know, this was a couple years ago when things were much more dramatic and life-altering, and I was a silly little teeny-bopper. (okay, so maybe not that much has changed)

The story starts on Thursday the 12th, in June sometime, I think.

Late at night my little phone bling-blinged and when I opened it up I had a text from a boy I thought I was totally in love with. I was on top of the world because we didn't talk very often, but I just knew that he was beginning to realize he loved me too.

Wrong.

After talking for a bit I not-so-subtley mentioned that we oughta hang out sometime. To which he replied,

"Um, actually I just thought maybe I should let you know that I kinda have a girlfriend"

To which I should have replied,

"Um, what the helen are you talking to me for then?"

But I was nice back then, so I played it off and was all "cool" with it.

But I was seething inside and our conversation ended quickly thereafter.

The next morning, Friday the 13th I woke up and might have still been a little (or a lot) ticked off. Then my sister suggested that we go ride horses. I thought this was an okay idea, so we got ready and headed up.

And just so you know, I'm no cowgirl. I try to pretend, but it's just not happening.

So we get up to the horses, get em saddled and are ready to go. I got stuck on Big Red, who has really never been my favorite, and this was when I realized that I'm maybe not his favorite, either.

So once I get the saddle on Big Red, I grab his reins and we start walking (I'm on the ground, leading him) toward the other horses.

And this is when Big Red decides to frienziedly and completely, manically and utterly

flip out.

It's also about this time that I realize the horse-shoers pickup is parked right in the way of Big Red's flailing back legs.

The only thought I had in my mind is that there was no way I was going to let that crazy horse lay a finger (or hoof) on that pickup.

So I grab hold of the reins with both hands and pull like there's no tomorrow. And really, I think there must be something to that "super adrenaline under duress" theory, because somehow i was able to move the horse far enough away from the pickup before I finally couldn't hold on any longer.

As soon as I let go, that crazy horse took off, and I honestly thought that was the last we were gonna see of him.

He's running down the farm road with saddle parts flying every which way, and we just all sat and stared at each other. Finally I head after him along with one of the guys that was standing around watching the drama unfold. We head towards where that crazy horse ran to and finally find him nuzzled up in a corner on the outside of the horse pasture looking gentle as a lamb.

We start walking slowly toward him and that's when I start to feel the burn.

I look down and my hands are just on fire. I had some serious rope burn from trying to hold the horse back and my hands were criss-crossed around my fingers and all over my palms with nasty open wounds.

And they hurt.

a lot.

We finally got the horse calmed down and it was determined that I had done up the flank strap (is that what it's called) too tight and that's what had caused the catastrophe.

(I have my serious doubts about that due to an incident that occurred last summer, which I have yet to share with you. My pride won't allow me to)

And as if this disaster wasn't enough to break me, we got a new saddle, someone else saddled Big Red, and I was forced, kicking and screaming, to get back on that devil horse.

I was very unhappy.

So we continued our ride uneventfully, with my hands just killing me, and then finally went home.

When we got there, I began getting ready for the day and was going to put egg whites in my hair (does anyone else do this anymore?) when I spilled the entire bowl of egg whites on the carpet in my room.

Later that day, in an attempt to salvage the day, my friend invited me to hang out with her and some friends from another school.

I think the sullen look on my face scared everyone away and barely three people talked to me all night. when we finally left, I arrived home to find my family gathered in our laundry room which was flooded. We spent the rest of the night mopping up all the water on the floor, using every towel we owned to help clean up the mess. I think we finally finished the job at about 2 or 3 in the morning.

Then we all determined that it was time to go to bed and put this awful day behind us.

As a result of the events from this day, I will forever be superstitious about the dreaded Friday the 13th.

Within good reason, I think.