Poke!

I only sign in to Facebook on Mondays, and when I do, it's a very focused mission with three critical items on the agenda. 1) Look at all the tiger photos that Suzi tagged and curated for me. It's a special treat, and it never fails to warm my heart. I don't need extra reasons to love tigers or Suzi, but she gives them to me anyway because she is incredibly generous. 2) Tell the Internet how many loads of laundry I've completed. This started as a joke because I didn't have anything else to share on Facebook, so I decided to transform my profile into a #laundrybook record. No one shot me for this dumb idea, and thus, it lives on. 3) Lead the sock monkey troops to victory in the few remaining "poke wars" that just won't die out.

One of those wars escalated a month or two ago when a friend sent me a handcrafted poke in the mail. I just put a stamp on my return poke tonight (shh, don't tell him it's coming), and I couldn't help but smile. We know each other through his sister, and I know his sister through the blog of a brilliant woman known as Golfwidow. It's one of those friendships that is incredibly difficult to explain to people who haven't experienced a true Internet community. And heaven knows the struggles involved with convincing people that there is any merit to be found in the Facebook poke feature.

But here we are—weird stories, silly games, postage, and all—and I realize for the second time today how much I like my friends and how much I like my life.