Today's launch of the new Republican "issue ad [1]" blaming DFLers for Minnesotans being asked to sacrifice manhood and innocence alike whilst pumping merrily away at the gas station is just the latest chapter in a textbook Nora Ephron romance. You see, it always starts with the title characters loathing one another. And you'd be hard pressed to find more animosity and revulsion than early in the legislative session. Much like Harry and Sally, our own Tim Pawlenty and the state legislature started off on the wrong foot, with the DFL-controlled legislature, after maintaining a certain amount of calm and decorum, offending the state's top executive by raising the gas tax a whopping 42 percent.

As any fan of the rom com genre knows, once the ire is raised, wacky misunderstandings and miscommunications must then ensue. And what better place for miscommunication and bafflingly wacky hijinx to occur than over the state's budget? When the governor first sent over a proposed bill last Monday, including $125 million in unspecified budget cuts [2], Democrats were quick to point out that they were completely baffled as to how they could approve a budget with so little detail. Why, they would sooner watch Rep. Margaret Kelliher and Sen. Tom "Sex Hog" Saxhaug engage in hot oil wrestling [3] on the Capitol Steps before they would sign such a patently confusing document! Of course, last Friday, these same stalwart legislators provided Pawlenty with an inscrutable proposal outlining $204 million in cuts - when there's a $935 million deficit.

Of course, this tete-a-tete provided an opportunity for Rep. Tony Sertich to cross the threshold into the next stage of our most improbable film - the off-putting infatuation, in which our romantic leads find themselves inexplicably drawn to one another, as Rep. Sertich seemed to be after the DFL budget offer was rebuffed by the Pawlenty administration. Rep. Sertich said, with a tinge of longing in his voice [6], "If we keep working in this way of finding places where we agree instead of focusing on the areas we disagree I think we can build a solution." And as he walked away from the microphone, he let out a deeply flustered sigh, shaking his head as if to say to himself, "No! I can't possibly like THAT."

What's next remains to be seen, of course. If the formula holds true, there will be heated late-night budget sessions, replete with frenzied arguments and impassioned debate. When suddenly, upon reaching a breaking point, the dams will burst and Rep. Kelliher will find herself wrapped in the governor's sinewy, hockey-toned arms, making use of public infrastructure in ways never approved by a house ethics committee [7] whilst the rest of the caucus listens at the door with self-congratulatory grins plastered upon their reddening faces.

And in that one all-too-brief moment of bliss, when common ground is found in the sweaty convergence of Republican and DFL, is when the healthcare access fund will finally be safe, the Central Corridor funding will be restored, the legislature will come to its senses and realize just how much it's truly asking for in a year the state can ill-afford most of it. And, if we're truly blessed, Michelle Bachmann will have her own deli scene [8] whilst lunching with Al Franken.