In high school I fantasized about the entire country knowing my name and recognizing my face. I'd walk down the red carpet in a shiny dress and killer body and all of their eyes would be on me, they'd snap my picture, wishing they could live my life for a day.

Fame and fortune definitely have their perks, but after becoming acutely aware of the media storm Britney Spears creates each time she stops to get a frappucino, maybe the life of an average civilian isn't so bad after all. If there were people on this planet whose soul purpose was to track my whereabouts and snap my picture day in and day out I'd begin to crack and stutter. Who hasn't had a bad hair day? A wedgie? A piece of tomato stuck in their teeth? Who would want that documented for millions of people to see in gossip magazines and top ten lists? Maybe the money compensates for complete and utter lack of privacy, but who wants millions when you can't even drive your car without running over a few people here and there?