You might not know it from the way I am now (pshaw), but when I was a little girl, I was quite the attention seeker. Not from adults or anything, because adults suck. But from other children. Looking back, I’m amazed at how creative I was in my attempts to turn all eyes upon me. Of course, more often than not, my charades got me in trouble with those damned adults.

My first major debacle happened when I was six years old. I guess I was feeling particularly neglected that day. Maybe my parents were fighting (since this was in the preliminaries of their divorce). Maybe my sister slammed my head against the wall particularly hard that morning. Maybe my pound puppies just didn’t understand me anymore. Either way, I decided I needed people to pay attention to me.

I was in the girls’ bathroom at my elementary school that morning. Some girls were playing around, splashing water on each other. They weren’t playing with me. (Those bitches.) So after a few of them left the bathroom and another had gone into a stall, I put my back against the wall, closed my eyes, and slid down it.

There was absolutely no plan to this; I didn’t actually know what I was doing or what I expected to happen. I suppose I thought someone might splash me with water to “wake me up.” I honestly have no idea.

Another girl came into the bathroom, and without saying a word to me, checking my pulse, or even tapping me on the head, she ran back out screaming for our teacher. Good old Mrs. Stewart. That haggard wench I had to endure again in fifth grade. She and I did not get along. I’d already gotten in trouble with her multiple times during this year of first grade. But she came in, and I panicked. I didn’t want her to yell at me - again - for being stupid. So instead of popping up off my bum and yelling “Surprise! I’m alive!”, I continued to play dead, so to speak. Mrs. Stewart shook me as if it were the 1880s and I had just told her I wouldn’t marry her even if I was gonna be hungry for all my days! Continuing to play along with myself, I slowly let my eyes flutter open, muttering, “Wh… what? What’s going on? What happened?” Mrs. Stewart stood me up and, arm around my little shoulders, walked me down the hall to the principal’s office.

This was my first visit to the principal’s office during which I was not in trouble. The adults called my parents, and the next thing I know, I’m at the hospital. That’s right. Apparently my “condition” seemed “serious.” That night, I was informed that I had to stay awake all night long. Which meant that at least one of my parents had to be awake all night long to make sure I didn’t fall asleep. I will always remember that night as the first time I saw Grease 2 (and subsequently fell in love with it, watching it about 835 times after that).

The next day, I had ELECTRODES all over my head. BRIGHT LIGHTS were blinding my eyes. I think I was given some kind of drug intended to cause drowsiness, because I don’t remember much of what happened during or after this. I have no idea what in the hell was being done to me or why. But I presume all the tests came back negative, and since I never had a fainting fit again, the incident has never been mentioned again since that time.

I’m sure my parents are now aware that it was all a scam, that the tests were negative because nothing was wrong with me. But it’s NEVER been brought up again. If it were, I would sincerely apologize for the grief I caused them, and the mounds of medical bills that I’m sure followed them from this tiny, minuscule gag that got blown WAY out of proportion.

But I sure as shit am not bringing it up myself.

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