My husband and I have long believed the definition of lucky is preparedness meeting opportunity.
Last year I was "friended" by a guy who was a little bit more than an acquaintance from my high school days in the midwest. Turns out he lived about ten miles away as the crow flies, here in Georgia. As we prepared to venture back to the midwest for our 26th (not a typo) year class reunion we decided, via Facebook, we should meet for dinner with our spouses.
There is something really fun about hanging out with people who understand where you came from. We both live very differently than we were raised, but you can't change your roots. Since that dinner date we have created a great friendship and enjoy spending time together as couples and I've also adopted his wife as one of my closest friends.
She is Missy. The friend who invited me to join her in Paris.
Last spring I received an apologetic private note on Facebook from a gentleman asking if I was the daughter of my parents, high school friends of his. He currently lives in Amsterdam. I was in the middle of dealing with the accident so I didn't respond right away.
After she returned from a gathering of high school friends I thought to ask my mother who this fella was and should I respond to his inquiry. She emphatically said yes, I would probably enjoy chatting with him, my aunt had been corresponding with him for some time. And while we have never met face to face, because of common friends, and again, a common history by virtue of being raised in rural Indiana, we are looking forward to meeting when I extend my European journey by a week to visit Amsterdam.
Thus, participation on Facebook has manifested some serious luck for me, if you abide by the definition preparedness meeting opportunity that is.