Of course, some of these are female people who would wear entire horses on their heads, given half a chance. That probably explains a lot of this.
I watched people at work congratulating a coworker on his wife being pregnant. Now to the best of my knowledge, it was a fairly common, straighforward process. People were essentially congratulating the good fellow for inseminating his wife.
Maybe it's because I'm not a parent (unless you count Marshall and Ren, to whom we did not give birth).
Speaking of work, the Twilight Zone<tm>, where the law of gravity is merely a suggestion, is back to its former glory. Since it's summer, the Philly area is dealing with its fourth heat wave, full of ninety degree plus days with outrageous humidity. Historically, my office does not cool well (aside from all of us being full of hot air).
Finally we got the building manager to make a rare stop and evaluate the situation. We figured he might be somewhat alarmed by the eighty degree temperatures oppressing the staff and perhaps he could come up with somewhat of a solution.
This is precisely why I hate optimists.
Our little Miracle Man jumped up with a solution: he was going to put in a few more fans. You know, fans, to blow the hot air around a bit. He swore that was the correct solution to our problem.
Undaunted, my boss suggested perhaps some air conditioners were in order. We used to have some of those huge room air conditioners that looked like the robot from Lost in Space ("DANGER, Will Robinson").
Alas, no. Building Man swore up and down that he was going to put some thermostats in the room to prove to us that air conditioners weren't going to cool the place down. Thermostats.
Had my department told people they were wrong, we are right and let us do what's best for you, we'd all be out, in near one hundred degree weather, looking for jobs.
Oddly enough, this morning I arrived to air conditioners. And no thermostats.
But wait... not only do you get British Babies and Tales of Distant Air Conditioners, you also get The Great Coffee Cup Dance!
We have some decent coffee machines at work. They grind the beans before serving you, which is pretty neat. This week we got new coffee cups too.
The cups are a strange form of paper. Most importantly, the cups are too small. When you push the BREW button, it fills up the cup, then overfills it. When you go to pick it up, you get the strong feel of incredibly hot, fresh-brewed coffee, burning your hand.
I let out a few choice obscenities.
I suspect our next corporate purchase will be water-soluble drinking cups (which dissolve when you put liquid in them).