Stacy, it’s actually 6 degrees
here’s the wiki link

and baby’s taste so nice

Also, isn’t this thread a little like the “seven degree’s of separation” theory? I think the concept is everyone is about 7 people away from having someone in common? Im a little rusty on that whole thing…. but I do play ” Seven Degrees of Kevin Bacon” quite often. Still stuns me to this day.

When I studied abroad, there were a few people who ran into old friends also studying abroad- a first grade friend here, a high school buddy there. I never did. But at work last week, I met the cousin of my high school biology teacher, who only mentioned her because I was wearing an old t-shirt.

I think Facebook really brought to light how many of my friends who I thought would never know each other actually did in fact know each other. I agree with the whole spheres of friends idea- I don’t want my friends from this area of my life to meet my friends from another area of my life. My high school friends do not need to meet my college friends, who do not need to meet my Real World Working Job friends.

I remember Slate had an article after 9-11 about how many people in America were actually affected by the deaths- 3000 people died, and they knew X people who knew Y people, and 3000 x X x Y = about a million people directly or indirectly affected from 9-11.

Also, if I were the girl Hemant wrote about, and I decided to google him when I got home form the wedding, and I found all these matchmakers, I would probably run away, possibly to Ohio.

Interesting but the genetic relationship is much diluted by this point.

As we were wandering the grounds I noticed a girl I recognized because she went to the same college my wife and I had just graduated from and one of my roommates had had a major crush on her during Junior year. She didn’t know me though. Anyway, I went up to her and said “Sarah?” She gave me a strange look and said “Yes?” I said, “Do you know Dan Inouye?” She gives me an even stranger look and said “Yes?”. I said, “I’m his roommate from Wheaton.”

Turns out she was touring England and went to the Abbey on a whim that day as well. She also happened to need a ride to Bath, right where we were going, because the Britrail pass had been late and was now waiting for her at the post office there. So thanks to this fortunate coincidence we were able to give her a lift.

She wasn’t the only classmate from Wheaton we crossed paths with that summer. We ran into another friend we knew as our tour groups passed each other in the hallway at Neuschwanstein Castle in Bavaria. We met up later in the gift shop after the tour.

How random is that?

When I have a good romantic/scandalous story, you’ll be the first to hear about it.

When you live in a supernaturally-tinged world, there’s a magic wand waving just behind every weird twist in life.

Growing up, I took cues from people around me and equated every coincidence with divine intervention, convinced that God was trying to tell me something and trying to discern the message.

I was chosen to “lead devotion” in my world history class in high school. The night before, my then best friend and I were listening to some Christian music on shuffle, and one song came up twice in a row. We were convinced that God wanted me to play that song and talk about it.

Of course, when what I thought He was telling me started consistently failing to come true, that was probably one of the first ever serious blows to my faith (actually, the very first was a satanic firefly at summer camp, but that’s another story). I recovered, of course, determining that I was simply not yet adept enough at discerning God’s immediate will for me.

I would love to have a nickel for every “couldn’t possibly be a coincidence” story I heard like this from Christians. When you live in a supernaturally-tinged world, there’s a magic wand waving just behind every weird twist in life.

Actually taking the time to consider the odds and puzzle out that coincidences do happen all the time – even extraordinary ones – is too difficult. It’s much easier and more fun (spine-tingling!) to assume that goddidit.