Tell Cuddy I want Ketamine

Mum says I should keep trying to not become a curmudgeon.
I thought that was an interesting choice of words.
Who says 'curmudgeon'?
"I'm not a curmudgeon, Mum. I think one needs to be a bit older to get that title...Totally off topic, but I dyed my hair yesterday."
"Color?"
"Well, it was supposed to be brown."
"So, jet black."
"How did you know?"
"Oh, Kenz, I told you..."
"Yes, Mum, but I picked a color called 'medium brown.' How was I to know that would turn out to be jet black when applied to my hair."
"It will fade."
"Until then I'm just going to pretend I wanted my hair to be this color."
"Brunettes do have more fun."
"I've never thought so, and I've seen no proof, but it's easier to keep up."

The rest of the day? It was terribly exciting. Saw an old buddy today. There was this guy lived across the street from me the first year I lived here. He's about my parents' age-a Viet Nam vet (I know because I interviewed him for the Veterans' History Project). He moved away over a year ago-he and his old lady got a bigger place on the main road. Once, I had the flu, could barely walk, much less cook, he made homemade chicken soup and brought it over to me. That's the kind of neighbor he was. I hadn't seen him in ages.
I was walking the dog this morning. A white truck drove by and blew the horn. I waved-it's easier than trying to portray dismay. The truck took the turn-around.
"Wait a minute there, girl!" the driver shouted.
So I did. Because I'm trusting that way.
The truck pulled into the driveway and before he even got out I knew that it was my neighbor.
He got out of the truck (He didn't own a car when he lived here, so I knew he'd moved up) "I haven't even been down this street in so long, but I knew that was you! You're as beautiful as ever."
And I let him say that-cuz he's not an idiot-he knows I'll punch him if he tries anything.
We hugged, "I can't believe you recognized me." (After all, the dog has changed...)
A woman that wasn't his old lady was in the truck, she was singing to a song other than the one on the radio. She seemed a little more than a little crazy. "That's my brother's woman," he said.
Our chat was only a couple of minutes. He's doing good, buying a house. I'm out of grad school-that's something.
"This is Coupland, he's my little dog. He's mean as hell... Baxter passed on..."
"I'm sorry...Wow, he is vicious, isn't he?" I held Little Dude up for inspection. "I'm afraid."
It was just interesting. When I moved here I didn't know anyone and he was one of the few people that I've met that didn't seem like bastards. I know he's attracted to me, he's said so ("I like you more than I man should like a woman...") but he never thought it would be a good idea to act on the idea.
He took off and I doubt we'll see each other again.

The rest of the day was Vertigo and House. The disturbing fact that those two things blur rather neatly together. Struggling with the Holmesian impulse to overanalyze and now I'm watching Whose Line?

Back in another life I wrote a paper about this show and its fan culture. Fascinating.

No. Not at all.