I'm returning to this familiar (to me, anyway) pink page because I realized that I've been using my Facebook status updates as an outlet for thoughts that I may not want people like Ben's colleagues or my fourth grade nemesis to read. Also, I hate the thought of people blocking me from their news feed because they are sick of hearing about my latest complaints. Finally, I have so many things that I want to preserve for posterity, like my newfound love of homemade pickles.

They really do pep up any dish.

The tipping point was last night, as I watched 48 Hours Mystery (to the sound of Ben's grunts of disgust coming from the other room). The best friend of the murdered couple was trying to wax poetic about their supposed "story-book" romance (man meets woman 20 years his junior, man leaves wife, man and new woman fulfill lifelong dream of living on a yacht), and mixed her metaphors like nobody's business. Here are the gems I remember:

"He would have walked on water for her."

"It was like a fairy tale. He got down on his hands and knees and proposed."

It reminded me of when the parents of a young girl who was being treated for leukemia or something said on the news, "She's not out of the woodwork yet, but the doctors are very optimistic."

Long live my tradition of making fun of people who don't deserve it!