Apparently, I had a BFF on MySpace by the name of *Rockstar*. Although I don’t even know who this girl is, assuming it’s a girl, she had my entire life chronicled using the stolen physical identity of my friend, Blair.
The elaborate page consisted of my blogs, as well as my columns for which she had to extract from a different site (or sit down and type out). Meanwhile, she had albums full of pictures of me stolen off of MySpace, LazyDay, Charlotte.com, QC After Dark, and concert pics from qcvibes.com. In other words, the bitch went to a lot of trouble.
Seeing as how she’s friends with all the NASCAR driver’s private profiles, she made two albums of my NASCARnival adventures and even made cute little captions for them, like “Britt and Cubby with Couch Man,” “BritBrit and her mom in the suite” and then there it was … a picture of my Mr. Big. I thought I had destroyed all evidence of his existence everywhere except for my heart, but “Rockstar” managed to track down a picture I didn’t even know existed of us at the Richmond race. He was leaning in to kiss me in my dimples which monopolized my cheeks as I had the biggest, most sincere smile on my face — one for which I haven’t cracked in a while. But her caption read, “Brittany flirting with an RCR employee.”
First of all, she spelled my name wrong, then downgraded my disenfranchised lover to a mere sideshow act in the NASCARnival. Somehow this person, who obviously doesn’t have a life, or identity of her own, caused me to question mine, and why I haven’t been smiling like that.
I had to give up my identity to take on that of an NFL cheerleader, and I’m not quite sure I got it all back. Sure, I have a pretty cool life, at least according to Rockstar — I get to meet famous people, have VIP access and get paid to party — but it’s not fulfilling.
I went from planning classroom curriculum for at-risk students to planning photo shoots. And I went from figuring out how to raise money for different charities to figuring out what I’m going to wear to different events. But the thing is, the only reason I even got to this point was by wearing my real identity, the free-spirited and secure dork that smiles that big at everyone, all the time.
Rockstar posed a good question: Why are we always trying to be someone we’re not?
But she didn’t even have to go to that much trouble. She could’ve just bought Blair and I at Rockhouse Event’s Auction of Luvv on Thursday, Aug. 14 at Dixies.
Editor’s Note: Because of copyright infringement, the page has been removed from MySpace.
This article appears in Aug 13-19, 2008.
