Jared had Subway. Fergie had Jenny Craig. I, Panthea Lee, have the Facebook. Just as those above institutions changed the lives of J-Money and F-Train, the Facebook has transformed the life of yours truly. (Note: for those poor, deprived souls that know not of what I speak, go to Thefacebook.com and prepare to see the light.) Before the Facebook, I led a shameful existence. With a none too attractive visage and a horrible memory for names and faces, I was destined for social ruin. The appearances thing I couldn’t do so much about-fret not, I’m not one of those ugly folk that tell themselves it’s what’s inside that counts; I know no one wants to befriend a fugly. With the Facebook, this is no longer a problem.

My profile page showcases an image of myself that is Photoshopped to perfection-you’d be surprise what the blur tool can do. This allows me to trick beautiful people-yes, even ugly people don’t want to be friends with other visual horrors-into “confirming” me as a friend. Once they have been duped into becoming one of my Internet pals, they feel obliged to smile back when I see them out and about. And I milk this for all it’s worth. Finally, to have friends! Okay, fine, “friends” may be stretching it. Finally, not being glared down when I say hi to others… it feels great!

For those gracious individuals that were willing to look beyond physical appearances-God bless their souls-I still could not befriend them in my pre-Facebook days, for I have an atrocious memory. I would stare blankly at those who said hi to me on the streets, and wrack my brain trying to figure out where I knew them from, but my attempts were always in vain. Ensuing conversation was always extremely awkward. Today, when such incidents occur, I can simply run home and enlist the help of the almighty Facebook. I can browse through the thousands of mug shots on the site until I find the person who said hi to me.

Then, the next time I see the individual in question, instead of stammering something about hating the weather and having too much work (yawn), I can come out with gems such as, “Why Hector, it is just marvelous to see you! How are you doing these days? Say, how is that Physiology 517 Artificial Organs class you’re taking? Your birthday is coming up in three days, isn’t it? Will I be invited to your party? What’s that you say? We don’t really know each other? That’s no problem… we both love Radiohead and Pink Floyd, what else do you need?”

The Facebook has done wonders for my social life. Instead of being some random awkward girl, I have now reached a new level of the social ladder: I am now known as that creepy girl who prowls the Facebook and knows way too much information about you.

For the Facebook naysayer, I say get off your high horse and join the party. “The Facebook is just a popularity contest, it’s just about showing off the number of friends you have,” cry the too-cool-for-Facebook crowd. Oh, how wrong you are. The Facebook is not about showing off the number of friends you have; rather, it is about showing off just how pushy and creepy you can be. It is about proving your resourcefulness in tracking down every single person with whom you have ever crossed paths. The girl who shared a couch with you in the crowded Shatner lounge, or perhaps the guy you saw at BDP the other night who’s friends with the brother of that girl who lived with you in Rez… they’re all fair game. They all want to validate you, to boost your friend count, and to inflate your ego.

So, my fellow ugly and socially awkward brothers and sisters, our day has arrived. The Facebook is our chance to overcome discrimination and join the ranks of individuals with friends, so make good use of it. I wish you the best of luck in scamming some friends for yourself and, remember, creepy is the new cool.