Cats as the solution to Congressional discord?

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Hear me out, folks, because I may very well win a Nobel for this... What if the way to achieve real bipartisanship (communication! compromise! actually listening to folks from the "other side"!) is to offer everything in opposition to getting  a cat? Some context...

This morning after dropping Jack off, Oliver and I headed to PetSmart to get a larger shell for Jerry because he (a hermit crab) seems dangerously close to spilling out of his old one. While there, we detoured by the cat adoption area and FELL.IN.LOVE.WITH a four month old kitten named Nutmeg. She was a dream. Playful, purring, licked our faces, fluffy but not too fluffy, orange but not too orange. If I didn't think T would move out, I'd have brought her home immediately. Oliver was equally smitten and suggested Nutmeg be his only birthday present (he turns 4 in March but I liked his negotiating tactic). My heart strings were strumming with a mournful plea of a song: who could leave this precious feline, already spayed AND from Last Chance Shelter :(, in this plexiglass cage? It took all I had to hand her back to Marquis. Oliver called T on the way to school and suggested he consider Nutmeg joining our family. At first, T was like, "hell's no, Ol!" but I could tell he wasn't 100% on that...

In the meantime, I posted a note on Facebook asking if I were nuts to consider adopting this adorable cat. People, I have rarely seen such complete and emotive agreement around a NO. Truly unbelievable the unanimity of responses, even though they were all differently reasoned. Wow.

As such, it seems to me that if you put forth a motion in Congress to A) deal with climate change, or B) adopt a cat, healing the earth would commence immediately. Raise taxes on the wealthy or adopt a cat? OMG, a tax increase just passed with 100% of the vote!

Just a thought, peeps.

Gone book, drawing the line

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Ok, I'm done. Gone Girl is a done deal, and while I didn't feel totally satisfied with the ending, I suppose it couldn't have culminated differently without being too tidy. I'm always amazed by novel writers who can conjure extremely dysfunctional characters in such thorough, developed ways. Surely these authors are not all so terribly troubled or psychologically damaged, and as such, it must therefore be a true gift with words and imagination. This and Room come to mind as perfect examples of wildly gripping, excellently written, disconcerting yet utterly engaging and memorable fiction. Quick note before I hit the sack. A magazine I'm thumbing through has informed me that in any one glass of Champagne are roughly 20 million bubbles. Delightful! And, apparently, if you chill for long enough and pop the cork at a snail's pace, the golden nectar won't gush out and be wasted. Fine, fine. The blurb then advises dropping a raisin in each glass to increase fizz. This is where I draw the line. Of course I know the relation between grapes/raisins/wines but a boogary looking ort residing at the bottom of my festive flute is just taking the importance of the bubble-factor too far. I say no!!