pack bags, call cabs, and hurry

Though work often feels like a series of Office Space vignettes, the advantage of working with people who adore science is that an occasional crack in the facade emerges. This can be evidenced by someone with four degrees quoting Dodgeball today, by muttering, "F***in' Chuck Norris" during a meeting, which is exactly what happened this morning.

Then, I received the best news I've heard in some time. Let it be known that I am not exactly enthralled by anklebiters, and I actually find it a little annoying when single women get the wandering eye and the cooing babble whenever a baby is nearby. However, I am still happy for W, because he and his wife are heading for Baby #2. I spent an entire hour teasing him about Baby #1 & Baby #2's birthdates timed potentially only a day apart. It ended like this:

W: on the romantic side, they would both be conceived around our anniversary.
me: awww... I'm sure they'll appreciate you telling them that as consolation when they have a combined birthday party for the fifth year in a row.

I am a jerk. But I am happy for him, because he is nearly disgusting in his utter devotion to Baby #1. So I know he will be equally enthused and enamoured of Baby #2. W is that rare friend who lives a completely different life than mine, yet does not impose his way as the way.

Thank the sweet heavens that oodles allowed me to watch Lost last night at her lovely mansion. Otherwise, my blood pressure might have necessitated a trip to the ER. Or I might have thought I was light-headed and hallucinating. Heroin Hobbit in diapers? Baby cradles in the water? WTF?!? The best part of the episode? Yoda soundly clocking Heroin Hobbit. More of that, please.

oodles further rocked for three fantastically different reasons. First, she gave me a ride home, which was really sweet of her, after putting up with me for a full two hours of television zombification. Second, she asked in e-mails (sorry, oodles, but this is too good to keep to myself), in full earnest, Is having a Civic a typical Indian car? This was followed by: Does it help if I state that I was debating between a Honda and Toyota for months? I wonder if she knows how much she unintentionally cracks me up. Oh, there was a third. Third, she asked me to sum up my life during a commercial break. From this exercise, I learned that I have a rather dull history, except for the part where I get a MS in Organic Chemistry. For some reason, this was the source of endless amusement.

I grow weary thinking of the next twelve hours. They will involve last-minute everything, followed by waking up at an inappropriately early hour to drag myself to the airport. But I'm headed to Boerum Hill, b*tches. I feel hipper just typing that.