Dear Baked Pesto Chicken Dish

Dear Baked Pesto Chicken Dish,

You are mine.

Don't even to begin to think for a moment that you belong to my ex-boyfriend's wife.

I mean, I bumped into you while visiting her Facebook page (more evidence that she and I would have gotten along; you know, if she hadn't so rudely broken up The Man and me and then went on to marry said man; she misses Obama as much as I do; unrequited BFFs forever!).

Not that I spend that much time on her page, mind you. Only occasionally, OK? When the urge hits. The curiosity.

And thank heavens for that BECAUSE THERE YOU WERE.

Just sitting there, waiting for me to happen upon you.

I Am NOT Alone with My Jar of Minced Garlic

Even when you're feeling totally alone in the world, Google reminds you that you're not. 

Because somewhere, someone else has the exact same question as you about the jar of minced garlic you finally opened.