People are infectious. All it takes is one acquaintance and before you can say "antisocial tendencies," you have three best friends, five long lost cousins and twelve people who know someone who knows someone who's dentist sat next to Julia Roberts in an airport once. Sauté carefully in the skillet of what my friend calls Jewish Geography (and I call Diaspora Group Benefits) and bam! You've got a nice, hearty helping of people to invite to parties.
Not that this is a bad thing. Please, it comes in handy sometimes! For instance, through the wonder that is the Internet I have been endowed with the knowledge of at least six girls who are going to Israel with me. It's an eclectic group, to say the least. We range from the relative mundanity of New York to the exhilaratingly exotic realms of South Africa, at least from what I have been able to decipher. Of course, nothing is set in stone until we get on the plane to go home- the older the grape vine, the softer the grapes, and ours has been around since language came in style.
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