In which I'm full of absurdity and uncharacteristic optimism (it must be the long weekend ahead)

My friend Amy sent me one of those "Amy wants to be your friend on Facebook" messages today. Apparently she wanted to notify me that hell had in fact frozen over, since a friend of hers who touches a computer only when necessary had just signed up, and she thought maybe it was finally time for me to join the party as well. (You know, since in her words, "Satan's home is getting chilly.")

"It's weird seeing all our friends on there except you," she wrote. "You're usually such a joiner!"

First off, a joiner? Me? I am averse to and terrified of attending any event that might add my name to a membership list. Remember when 3Carnations suggested the Jaycees might be a good place for me to find a man? Yeah. Still haven't even looked up meeting times. Joiners worry me. I got joining out of my system in college, thank you.

I'm pretty sure what she meant, though, is that I'm social and such. You know, with friends. Not with strangers. I usually need liquor to talk to strangers. In fact, since I don't know most of you, I'm actually drunk right now. (Kidding.) Anyway, if we look at it that way, she's right. I do hate to be left out. And it's true: it is a little weird that purportedly ALL of my friends are someplace that I, for whatever reason, am not.

Lord help me, friends, I may finally cave.

Tell me again... Why is it I've resisted Facebook for so long? And how exactly will my life be enriched if I join?

Speaking of joining, I did actually lose myself in optimism and probable foolishness long enough to type my credit card number into the aforementioned dating site last night. And miracle of miracles, when I perused the "Interested in you" profiles that they wouldn't let me see as a non-paying member, I actually found THREE that didn't make my skin crawl! Moreover, when I clicked the button to indicate I am interested in Mr. Arty-Looking IT Guy, he clicked the button to say he's interested back! Within 24 hours, even! He is real and is online; he didn't just fill out a profile months ago and then decide not to pony up the cash to participate! Whew. Mind you, I am not picking out china patterns (do people still pick out china patterns?), but it is refreshing not to play the waiting game with presumably imaginary future boyfriend candidates, wishing that the particularly unhelpful wizard behind the curtain who runs the site would just tell me, "Um, dude over there hasn't visited in months. Your clicks are futile here."

If you have never treaded into the waters of this nonsense, I realize that last little bit probably won't mean anything to you, but if you HAVE sent messages or winks into the ether, never knowing if they were even received, can I get a "Word" on this?

In completely unrelated news, it is raining. Hard. For the third time in less than 24 hours. And to everyone in the Twin Cities whose lawn was as parched as mine, who was waiting for tumbleweeds to roll through the streets in our dry, late summer dustbowl of a town? You're welcome. I made it rain, you see. Yep. Because I finally gave in and watered my lawn last night, for the first time since mid-July (which is, coincidentally, probably the last time it rained as well). If I can control the weather, surely several other powers must be within my reach as well. Stopping time so I can sleep in every day? That's just around the corner. Picking the right line at the grocery store and Target? Soon I'll have that one down as well. And frankly, with all this power and talent, a relationship can't be far behind.

Say it with me: Year of Stef! It's not too late, I say.