How lucky! How supremely lucky!

Facebook is a fantastically weird little beast, is it not?  I have reconnected with the first boy who ever kissed me, friends I made in Rio that shared a remarkable afternoon at a prison with me, elementary school classmates turned into friends by the passing years and many, many others...

What I would love more than just about anything is for all of my disparate friends to get a chance to meet each other, to know each other and to fall in deep, nearly familial, love with each other as I have learned to love them all.  I would love it if quirky, artistic photographer Lisa were to meet the iconoclastic, sardonic and utterly wonderful Kim.  I think they'd be besties just like that.  I'd love it if the folks I improvised with in Boston met the improv crew who took me in when I moved to New York.  And Shana must meet Teresa who must meet Jessica who must meet Michael Jeffrey who must meet Jen who must meet Ruth who must meet Patrick who must meet George who must meet Kris...  I could go on.

Someone once told me I was lucky to have as many friends as I do.  I posited then, as I do now, that luck has nothing to do with it.  Having such gorgeous, talented, fantastically interesting friends as I do is a labor of love.  I am blessed to know the coterie of amazing souls that I do.  And if, at the end of my life, my life's work is nothing more than the blessing of knowing such people, it will be enough.  The friends I have, I treasure beyond all else.  Everything else is gravy.