I hit the brakes and pulled the wheel back to the right. Toby's stubby back end swung around, and the next thing I knew, I was looking down at the grass as my back end skidded fast into a ditch, praying my car wouldn't flip over.

It flipped over.

One and a half times. I was upside-down, in a Toyota, in a ditch. It sucked. Rolling that car was one of the most surreal moments of my life - it was over in a second, but I had a number of distinct, clear thoughts and reactions as it was happening. It was like the accident occurred both very quickly and very slowly at the same time.

I don't remember taking off my seatbelt and scrambling to get myself right side-up, but I must have, because the first thing I remember is being on my hands and knees on the inside roof of my car.

And panicking.

I was trapped, I thought. Now, here's the funny thing about panic - frantic people do stupid, stupid shit. I just cracked up my car, which was now sitting upside-down in a ditch. I heard the roof crunch down when it went over, so I knew it was a dead, dead car. And I'm trapped inside. So what do I do?

I try the door.

Seriously! Man, that cracked me up when I thought about it later. Like the door was just going to fucking pop open for me.

After the door remained firmly shut, my panic deepened for a second, until I realized that I could indeed roll down the window, and escape that way. So I did. As I crawled out, I remember having another set of clear, distinct, thoughts.

"Am I paralyzed? Nope, I can wiggle my fingers and toes. Am I hurt at all? Any cuts or broken bones? Quick self check-up - nope, I think I'm okay. Whew! Damn, I'm a lucky, lucky girl. And an insane, insane driver. My middle name is now Danger."

When I emerged from the car, a crowd had already gathered, even though I'd only crashed maybe two minutes before.

"Oh, my God."

"Are you alright?"

"Honey, you came flying out of NOWHERE and rolled into that ditch. It was the craziest thing."

"No, no, don't try to stand up, yet. Just sit there for a second. Rest. You're all right."

Then a long pause.

"You sure you're okay, sweetie?"

"Yeah, I'm fine."

"No, you're not. Your arm is bleeding."

I thought, "Shit. I AM hurt, and I'm in shock. Well, that's just great."

I looked down at my arm, where the man was pointing.

It was smeared with the brown sauce from my leftover Chinese food.

I started laughing, hysterically. "No, I'm not hurt. But I think my lunch is ruined!" The crowd crinkled their eyebrows and backed up a step away from the Crazy Car Crash Girl.

Some of the nice people let me borrow their cell phones. I called work, my dad, then Neal. In that order.

Neal sounded the most freaked out. While I waited for the men in my life to come rescue me, an ambulance and a state trooper arrived. I refused medical treatment, and had to sign a waiver. The trooper was very nice, and I sat in the front seat and chatted with him while I waited. I shook the entire time. I watched Neal, and then my dad arrive in the cop car's rearview mirror. Neal looked stricken, but he looked better once he saw I was really okay. Just filthy, man. Covered in grass and dirt and fucking Hunan sauce. He said he passed my dad at about 80 mph on the way there.

"Way to go - why don't you try to cause ANOTHER accident?"

"I know. I was just scared."

"I know. Me, too."

The trooper cited me for failure to control. Dad is pissed off about that to this day. Sometimes, you can get him ranting about it. He paid the ticket, he was so mad. "Don't worry, honey. Daddy's taking care of this one."

We then had the supershitty task of cleaning out my trunk, crammed full of my belongings, all shaken up in the wreck. It was like Jamie's Crap Soup. It sucked.

I felt like a refugee all day - dirty, shaken up, and confused. Neal took care of me.

My neck was a bit sore the next day, and I was down a car, but that was it. I can't believe I just strolled away from that accident. Actually, it was more like crawling away, but whatever.

Tomorrow: The Eulogies My Friends Wrote For Toby The Toyota Tercel.