But it’s true. Friendster is getting a facelift. Apparently upset about their inability to keep up with Facebook—or Myspace, for that matter—Friendster is gearing up for a complete re-launch tomorrow. Now if you’re scratching your head in wonderment, trying to figure out exactly, “What’s a Friendster? Why does it ring out so vaguely from the ruins of my social past?,” fear not. I’m happy to provide a quick, Google-aided refresher.

Friendster was launched in 2003. Over three million users hopped aboard the Friendster train in its first months, but, alas—the site’s reign was short. By the end of 2006, Friendster’s clout was minimal at best in these United States. This might have caused concern for the Australia-based company, except for one thing: Some 90-percent of Friendster’s traffic is based in Asia. This fact, then, might explain the following creepy video…

Creepy Friendster Video

…which I’m fairly certain was not made with cynical, jaded Americans in mind. According to this painful clip, Friendster is now boasting “my own space,” with “my own music,” and “my own friends.” Woah. Friendster is now so distinct that it’s nothing at all like…MySpace. I’m not so sure that this type of re-work is a path we would suggest Friendster traversing. Seriously, I deleted my Myspace account mere cyber-seconds after I trashed my Friendster.

What’s next, glitter graphics?

So was it worth it?

I missed out on just my first name, which was the obvious original choice. (Good work, Paige O’Neil. I don’t know how you did it, but you do, indeed, click faster than I do). I did, however, jump in faster than the 500 plus other Paige Williams’ (who knew I was so boringly unoriginal)? and managed to grab facebook.com/paigewilliams.

Could’ve done worse, no? Hopefully future happiness is still in the cards.

Kids are my heroes, and not just because they happily eat dirt and find genuine amusement in their own heads (two things I gave up with puberty, alas.) Even better than their complete openness to the joy around them, children have this uncanny ability to take the present and run with it, assuming that everything will always be as good, as fun, as fulfilling as it is today.

When I started my job as Executive Editor of Outblush, a leading shopping blog for women, I was incredibly childlike in my enthusiasm and wonder with the position. Writing about shopping? Receiving free press samples? Getting paid for the above mentioned two hours of daily commitment? Uh, where do I sign?

Fast-forward 14 (mostly wonderful) months, and much like the child with last year’s Christmas presents, disillusionment had crept in. The main reason, surprisingly, was perhaps also childlike. I missed people, and insightful interaction, and getting out of my pajamas. I missed reading on the train during my commute and eating lunch with co-workers. In short, I missed the people-ness that working at home can so easily snatch away.

When Outblush was purchased by a new company last month, and new payment, new schedules and new visions were offered, I felt that it was now or never. So I took a leap–a giant one. A leap to resignation. And I’ll be honest here. The immediate feeling was one of sincere regret, even deep sadness. I had been with Outblush for over a year. I had increased its viewers almost two-fold. I had the most impressive collection of free stuff in the universe. I was comfortable, content, familiar with Outblush.

Then I did the standard omigodIquitmyjobinthemiddleofahugerecession panic. That lasted longer than the unhappiness, and, admittedly, still persists to some extent. OK, to a pretty great extent.

But upon further inflection, what I mostly feel is genuine, unbridled, yes, childlike excitement. I really can’t wait to see what comes next. I can’t wait to start a new job, whether freelance or fulltime or self-employed, to put 14 months of learning to work on a different project. I can’t wait to live life, part now.

Am I crazy? Probably. Absolutely. But I’m OK with this–and that’s the kicker.

Onward with this installment of THINGS I LOVE ABOUT THE RECESSION:

1) Recession specials.

Perhaps they don’t have these outside of the greater NYC area (that sucks for the rest of you), but recession specials are the bomb. If you’re not familiar, they involve restaurants saying things like, “Eat three courses for 20 bucks.” Then I get to be like, “Hey, even I have 20 bucks! I shall partake in this feast of plenty.” Prior to the recession, deals like this did not exist. Perhaps because it’s not PC to have “Really poor people specials.”

2) Clothing cut-backs.

The recession hit rock bottom just as the weather got warmer. In years past, I had to a) be embarrassed of my holey, too small shorts left from when I was 16, b) put myself into credit card debt to buy warm weather wear I could not afford. Now, no one has money, so no one can buy clothes, which means I won’t be ashamed to just cut things up and groove with the holes. In fact, now I can make a fashion statement of poor-ness. (Again, this strategy may be more effective in the NYC area.)

3) Cocktail company.

As someone who’s consistently been poor, I’ve made a habit of making meals out of cocktail garnishes. Seriously, you can get three courses if you’re sneaky. I like to start with an appetizer of maraschino cherries, then move on to a main course of olives and cocktail onions and finish with a refreshing orange slice or seven. People once looked at me strangely as I stole bar garnishes. Now, the bartender, various out-of-work businessmen and the creepy guy in the corner who’s hitting on me have all joined in this feast of free—which, incidentally, I don’t have to partake in as much due to the prevalence of the aforementioned recession specials.

4) Gas. cheap-gas

No, not from the cocktail garnishes. As in, I can put this in my car again, and my car will now go places. As I could not afford a tank of gas prior to the recession, I’m feeling pretty good cruising around in my holey clothes.

5) Gym Membership: Over!

Everyone I know has always had a gym membership. Even I have had a gym membership, and I don’t know if you missed the memo here, but I’m pretty damn poor. The truth is though, I never actually went to the gym, but used it as a beacon of body hope. As in, perhaps someday I will to go the gym and get really healthy and sexy, and in the meantime, I can pretend I go there to fit in with all the cool people I know. Now that the recession has taken everyone’s cash and hid it under a mattress in oblivion, no one can afford to have gym memberships anymore, which means everyone has cancelled them, which means I can cancel mine and enjoy twice as many TV shows on my stolen internet. Sweet.

The recession rocks!

(A reenactment of the events described herein. Note, this is simply a reenactment. The actual event looked nothing like this photo.)

But alas, dear readers, that momentary triumph was all before the advent of “The Great REcession.” Now, things aren’t so simple.

Although the recession is absolutely a problem, I kinda feel bad for it. Everyone’s really hating on the recession right now, and that must suck. Although I confess to having been in that recession-rejection boat for some time, life’s too short to waste in negativity, no? Therefore, I propose a new concept for looking at this time of serious money loss, stock market crashes, negative retirement funds, zero loan opportunities and increased unemployment. It’s called:

THINGS I LOVE ABOUT THE RECESSION

…to be continued…

I really. Really. Do. And here’s why:

Have you ever noticed that the things people proclaim in fluorescent, gleaming, glittering font have zero to do with anything that might–in some other world where glitter is acceptable–actually deserve to glitter? Here are some examples I’ve gathered from people’s real profiles. Let me remind you that I did not create these. They are real. They are live. And they are eating our brains on our computer screens.

Example 1:

All right. Now I’ve never had a baby, or a husband (yet) for that matter, and I wouldn’t know much about falling in love with an infant. But what I do know is that this graphic is obnoxious. Not only is it unremarkable, since millions of people have babies every day, but it runs the serious risk of alienating/offending/generally upsetting the rest of the universe who a) can’t have babies, b) haven’t found husbands, c) have babies, but no husbands, d) are grossed out by mushy sentiments that shimmer.

Moving on to Example 2:

Oh my Lord, where do I start? With the fact that whoever this is directed to would never know, based solely on the lack of proper nouns? With the idea that perhaps everyone who reads it will assume that it’s referring to them, leading to some sticky situations? Or should I just point out again that this is not worthy of a glitter graphic?

Now it’s true that I’d quite prefer to see glitter graphics abolished from society altogether. However, if this cannot be, I would like to envision a world in which the usage of glitter signifies importance. For example, “I’m an ax-murderer and ABC is my next victim!” or “XYZ gave me herpes. Proceed at your own risk!” These are sentiments that the world might be interested in receiving. In cases such as this, attention-grabbing glitter would be merited; perhaps almost useful.

And so, if we cannot abolish glitter graphics with wishing alone, may I ask that all five or so of my noble readers remember this semi-mathematical equation: Glitter Graphic + Important News = Semi-Acceptable, when Important News is equivalent to something that at least 50-percent of your profile readers care about. Otherwise: Glitter Graphic + Random Babble = ABC, where ABC is you…