I like it when they write television just for the two of us.

Just a couple of weeks ago, Adam and I were jawing over the law school/medical school decision that really should be off the table since 30 is looming, and Adam posed a very important question, one that could affect a potential career. "What kind of doctor would you be?"

"Oh," I said. "I wouldn't just be a doctor. I'd be a surgeon."

"Oh," he said, lifting the eyebrow.

I came back with, "And I wouldn't just be a surgeon, I'd be a ninja surgeon."

"OooooOOoooOOoooh!" Adam said. "With the cap and the mask and the scrubs! And throwing scalpels!"

Which was where we broke into a chorus of "Kung-Fu fighting."

(And for the record, there is absolutely no chance that I'll ever, ever be practicing medicine. Or the law. So, um, you're safe.)

And some readers might know that I've got an eye on finishing a very, very, very small, very, very short, very, very scary triathlon in May.

Last night's Scrubs was written just for us.

From the first bad ninja kick, we were clutching each other to keep from falling over and braining ourselves on the coffee table. And then JD ran the race I fear running, and Adam kept smacking my thigh shouting, "Hey! You'll do better than that!"

The second episode crossed over to meta with Ted smiling, Colonel Doctor, the longest "heeeuuuuuuuuulng!" ever, chest hands and Janitor's Jiggly Ball and we were still freaking out.

"They wrote it for us!" Adam shrieked. "They wrote it all just for us!"

"It's a hip-hop world, son."

He stopped laughing and did the eyebrow thing again. "It's tin foil hat time."

Hee!

(Adam would probably also like me to add the drug company on trial on Boston Legal was Devlin McGreggor, the same drug company in "The Fugitive." Awesome.)