There are few things that give me greater joy than the feeling of being recognized and admired. This explains my desire to be famous, to get interviewed on late-night TV while completely stoned off my ass, perhaps sticking my gum on the desk or dancing on top of it, and have to my every move photographed with my ever-present large caffeinated beverage.
But since I am just a regular 22-year-old girl who went to college instead of flashing photographers while stepping out of large SUVs, I have come to grips with the fact that I will not appear in tabloids, garner the attention to have a camera crew tape my life for a retarded reality show, or date a lesbian for additional fame. Although all of this is depressing to us common folk who just want our existence to be acknowledged, luckily we have Facebook to validate our existence and make us feel important.
Limos sure would be nice, as well as an endless supply of drugs and diet advice from the Mary-Kate Olsen, but I'll take what I can get—and what I can get is late-night Facebook chats from unexpected people I hardly knew existed.
Now, I know what some of you are thinking: ""Wait—I talk to this bitch on Facebook chat sometimes. I thought we had nice conversations. Did I creep her out? Does she have a restraining order out for me? I better check if she defriended me, or worse, I should scan down the rest of this page and see if she mentions me by name.""
Don't worry, I won't. But what I can say is this column is partly inspired by several semi-random Facebook chats I received as a result of the following statuses: ""Ashley Spencer needs column ideas,"" and ""Ashley is wondering where have all the cowboys gone?""
Was I sketched out by those who suggested answers? No, quite the contrary, people. Anyone I have approved as my Facebook friend is encouraged to drunkenly, soberly or creepily FB chat me, as it sufficiently boosts my ego, and though you might feel like an asshole afterward, it makes me feel as close to being famous as only a normal, slightly socially awkward college student could.
I generally accept the friendship of all UW-Madison students who aren't completely disfigured or rapist-looking. I don't accept people from other countries' networks because I have contracted xenophobia, a life-threatening disease. I do accept people I have met before, would like to meet in a dark corner of a bar or party (or already have), as well as anyone who has good taste in TV and movies.
Now, I know some say, ""I hate FB chat. People who FB chat me are creepy and possibly schizoid."" But even these people are just as exhibitionist as the rest of us, having 2,000 pictures of themselves tagged in various drunken positions, writing obviously pre-conceived 25 fun facts about themselves and coming up with incisive and purposely mysterious ABOUT me's. Yes, you do have to be careful to protect yourself from predators and the unnaturally hairy and ugly. But these snobs who say that are lying—in fact, they are the ones who seek this attention the most, as they have never had the glory of having one of their random friends added as a whim their freshman year FB chat them, thereby acknowledging a somewhat special, or horny feeling they have for you in their heart. You can either take those feelings and reciprocate them, or take those feelings and laugh at them.
Both feel equally good, I promise.
All are encouraged to make me feel famous and stalk me via Facebook, like they obsessively check up on Rihanna's safety, Amy Winehouse's sobriety and Lady Gaga's latest pants-less look on Perez. You're welcome to befriend me on Facebook and see if you pass the rigorous test to warrant acceptance, thereby receiving notification when I change my status: Right now, ""Ashley Spencer wants a Shamrock Shake, don't you?"" And that piece of information, my friends, should be top news on all the gossip blogs, following all entries ripping on the Bachelor for being America's slimiest douchebag.
If you'd like a Shamrock Shake, that's great, but if you prefer to tell Ashley your useless information the more old fashioned way, e-mail aaspencer@wisc.edu.
