This morning, I walked into my living room and found my cat on my couch - my velvet couch - doing the "I'm going to throw up" dance, which consists of shoulder hunching an gagging noises. I leapt into action, grabbed the cat, and held her over a plastic bag I grabbed out of a nearby wastebasket. The cat obligingly threw up right on to the bag (despite the fact that I could tell she didn't want to), and I was able to just scoop up the bag and re-throw it away, avoiding a much more disgusting clean-up job. I sat down on the un-violated couch and thought, "If only I could have done that with people who voted for Bush. The mess would be so much smaller with Gore".
No really, I actually thought that.
And, of course, I was riveted to Dancing With the Stars last night. Watched the whole Sara Evans interview, which was actually a little more candid than I expected, but still not exactly hard-hitting journalism. I noticed that she was sitting in a very reclined position with her hands linked across her stomach every single time her lower body was on camera. I'm telling you people, the announcement of a new baby is on the way.
Still don't know why I care, as I've never listened to a single one of her songs.