Now in Haikus

Hello everyone.

In an effort to thank you for your time and attention I believe it is necessary to reward the reader (that's you). Sometimes rewards come in the form of large, fat cash payouts sometimes in the size of $20million (US). Sometimes the rewards can be less extravagant. I've decided to stop writing your checks for $20 (US) and am instead changing the format of today's moving / grad school journal. I am writing today's journal in haiku form. I think you'll find that these autobiographical haikus are worth more than your checks for $2 (US). I think it best to keep in the tradition of the haiku format specifically as they relate to philosophical musings about nature and hardships. The haiku format gives a spiritual compass for the intended subjects by painting words with a broad brush providing you with the opportunity to ponder the minutiae minutae minuatia mininininin of the moment.




I journal maker
The writing esta bueno
Welcome to hiakus

Dodge Jeep strong like bull
Transmission of demon spawn
Vroom-vroom crash, tear drop

Chicago road trips
Windy skies and snowy fields
….ummm...
Enjoy this haiku

Teach computer class
Grades like ice flower in sky
Why students exist?

Apartment so cold
Why landlord no fix heater?
Tiny spring flower

I watch Olberman
Heat bill three hundred dollars
Tiny flower wilts

Landlord is missing
I see though he did one thing
Weather stripped screen door

I write graphics code
Artist is now code monkey
Hoar frost grows in ears

It’s now 2 a.m.
Code shimmers, waves like mirage
Damn the blue screen death

Hello Lafayette
Why hast thou forsaken me?
Die pretty flower

Spring Break with Girlfriend
School Conference with Free Travel
Crap.

Stands tall with presence
Kendo practice good for soul
Students now half off

Drip drop ceiling wet
Landlord make roofing repair
Fix ceiling later

Ceiling now have holes
Frozen air pours from baseboards
Where is sealing foam?

Must make finance books
Desperate blackness eats soul
Small flower is broke

“Zak and Dakota”
Bring old project into school
Can I have money?

Crazy professor
“That’s hard like hell!” says teacher
Rose blossom on leaf


Homework due Friday
Dear God, will it ever end?
Needs more horsepower

Mutter’s Apple Pie
Her Gramma bakes a fine treat
Word to yer Mutter

Thank You,
Andrew Britton

2008: A Year in Review

It's often best to get right to the point, to get right to the heart of the matter. Today's journal will get right to the heart of the matter through clear obfuscation. In short: I am a Japanese Power Ranger.
The holidays, the previous summer, and the semester's end have brought many confusions: learning statistics (wait till I tell you my final grade... hello nervous anticipation), navigating safe passage through Love, a first semester at University, moving to the Midwest, living again in the Midwest, The impermanent and vaguely unattainable Hope of Straight A's, two dead cats, one irritating police officer, random rudeness and the mistaken identity as a vagrant, an ill-professor and his extra workload, travel, grading, test-writing, students who beg, ailing automobiles, ill-timed NSF deadlines, money, self-identity inquiries and I-65.

4.0...
It is over. The semester hath ended. With an extreme fury - like that of Zeus fathering a child who turned out to be the illegitimate lustful offspring between Cronos, Boetis (a famed she-goat known for her in-depth knowledge of manual transmissions and all things relating to horse-power) and Elmus (a lesser Muppoid of the house Sesamete) - the semester wrought great havoc upon my Life. Last semester Severely harshed my mellow man. Through the thick and thin of it all I managed a feat previously unattainable by my mortal hands... for the first time ever, dating as far back 42 bce, I earned the famed, the coveted, the oft-sought and rarely discovered, the pinnacle for the house of reformed slackerdom, the non-trivial proof that maturity has finally latched its spindly tentacles into my cerebrainium... Yes... I say clearly to all who read this (thanks mom), I have, on record, as documented by the school of Purdue University, through no coercion or subterfuge of my own, and achieved, while maintaining academic integrity, a 4.0 for the semester.
Thank You.

Two Dead Cats...
Lafayette will always be a bizarre place for me. I feel very much as an alien in visit. I observe, make judgements and generally avoid too much interaction. It's not as if I'm anti-social. No one around here would claim that of me. It's more that I hope to make this visit impermanent. Y'know, so it won't be permanent. Last semester greeted me with a plethora of surprises, some of those surprises were even welcome. Of the set of welcome surprises, the two dead cats are not included. The first little kitty I found in the dumpster behind my apartment. It lay motionless inside a plastic grocery bag. Angry and very upset, I called non-emergency police. I wanted to know about the legality of leaving a cat in a bag in a dumpster. This seemed illegal. After inquiring with the police operator I was informed that if the cat has passed then "What else is someone supposed to do with it?" To be fair, she did inquire with others to ascertain the legality of this practice. She also informed me that this is one way people get rid of their dead cats. It's very sad to think this is what's become of a cat. I was hoping that maybe the cat would be buried or taken to the vet.
A few months later, I found another cat. This one lay in the street. I pulled it out of the street and onto the curb to keep it from getting run over.

Money? Ha! I'm a grad student now...
Status report... The car: The transmission dies slowly. By the end of last semester it began slipping gears and starting in 2nd. $2200 to rebuild. Monthly electricity costs: November electric bill - $270, December electric bill - $370. The transmission rebuild is being stalled until such time as I can find $2200, not on credit. However, the power bills did have to be paid. What was the landlord's reaction to the electric bills? "That sucks man. I know how it feels. I have $400 in power bills at my house." Maybe, dear landlord, you'd like to look around and see what could be done? "Well, I really don't know what we can do. I guess we can put a piece of insulation that covers your side door." That will be better than nothing. At this time the doors are so poorly spaced from their frames that cold air pours into the apartment. In the beginning of February I'll investigate why my feet are cold when I'm in the office. I will also be amazed, in February, when my power bill for January will $330 while running 3 of 5 of the apartment's baseboard heaters. The bathroom and bedroom heaters will be turned off. By this time in December though, I am sleeping on the floor of my living room because the bedroom is too cold, even with the heater turned on.

Back to the Present Past of December 2008...
Christmas vacation ended. Mom was decorating the house with maroon swatches of fake flowers. In the final moments of said decoration, I jumped at the middle son's obligation to ally a 5 year old's obnoxious sense of humor with a mother's words misconstrued. She, telling the room that had her father fought for the Japanese during WWII (and not the Americans) AND had she been trained in flower arranging then she might have been a Japanese flower arranger. And Me, acting 26 years beneath my physical age and perhaps 2 less then my mental age, asking if my mom was a Japanese Power Ranger.

ps...
I got a 4.0 GPA last semester. That was awesome. And, to be clear... My mom would make an excellent Red Power Ranger. Her martial arts knowledge merging with her legal acumen would thereby produce her own style: Kung Sue.

Moving Journal Update... The Graceful Landing

I think it fair at this point to continue journaling until at least one of the following conditions is met:

* Memorable, share-worthy events stop happening
* People stop reading and everyone asks to be taken off the list
* I die

Because none of the above conditions have been met, I will continue to write. Please note though, that if your interest lay only in cross-country driving journals... then read no more. The following fare will bore you beyond lecture and bring tears more than yellow onions, mixed with lemons, being squirt in your eye in a hundred and twenty degree room.... with salt. I know, it sounds pretty bad.... we just wanted to warn you. And by 'we,' I mean I.

The Graceful Landing...
It is important to know at this point in the journey all national travel has stopped and I'm now driving around Lafayette, IN with a 14' U-Haul with a Jeep in tow. So, the economy is Loving me, especially OPEC and BP. For some reason, I chose BP. The only reasons I can give you are:

* I like the green and yellow flower logo
* I used them in FL
* They are well lit
* They are well kept

Oh sure... you may be wondering... "But Andrew? Where are your gasoline purchasing ethics? Why would you choose an international corporate entity peddling Gas to locals? Think Global. Act Local! Are you mad?"
Yes. I am mad. Mad mad mad. I payed those gas bills. I have yet to look fear directly in the face and calculate the total spent on gasoline. Check this box if you think I should total it up:
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The Apartment...
So, I found my apartment online via Craig's List. Graig's List. Where the online subsection of humanity still pulses with all the unbridled oddities and peculiarities as we were meant to have. Some sections, you keep away from your children. Some sections, you keep away from your parents. Other sections, you probably don't know about... like the joke section. If you need a good joke, look on Craig's List (This e-mail offers no warranty or guarantee on the quality of any joke found on Craig's List, heretoforeafter known as CL).
My new apartment is of the following address:
(You understand of course I had to remove this privacy reasons)

This apartment is beautiful. I have 12' ceiling. A marble fireplace with a 10'x10' mirror above both in my bedroom. The apartment has 4 doors: The front and back door are both keyed. The side door opens up to one of my porches. The fourth door opens to a 2 foot drop. The back door opens up to my second porch. Some downsides are: the carpet floors in all non-wet areas, no washer / dryer or dishwasher. However, the price for such a fine feast: less than $600/mo.

Would You be My Neighbor?...

It's a beautiful day in this neighborhood
A beautiful day for a neighbor
Would you be mine
Could you be mine

So the landlord and I finish up signing the lease. He used to work 10 years for the FBI, in surveillance. He of course thought it very funny to make the joke about his being a professional stalker. I laughed in politeness. Fear, of course, punched my aorta and ripples of anxious ice shot through my veins. I believe my ability to read a human is good. I decided long ago my skills in this area were strong enough to trust them. I trust Mike. He made a funny. I know this because he laughed. I trust Mike because of his actions. Upon our first meeting he drive me around Lafayette pointing out places of interest: BMV (Bureau of Motor Vehicles), The Hope Apartments (a halfway house for recovering addicts... right across the street from my place. And "No, we've never had any crime at this location. There's nothing to worry about."), the auto insurance building, the land his friend bought and renovated into a thriving business area. Mike puts great pride in his renovation of this property and mentions the thanks he's received from local home owners and the local constabulary. The apartment is quirky, bizarre, unique, fun, spacious with great possibility. I'm already picking out paint chips. So, after signing the lease and walking out to view my new street...

It's a neighborly day in this beauty wood
A neighborly day for a beauty
Would you be mine
Could you be mine

The lady and I sit together, peaceful, on the fender of the vehicle transport. The street is quiet. The apartment is completed. Tomorrow, the carpets will be cleaned to strip away the cigarette and wet-dog smell. I sigh, content. I'm taking the sights and smells and feeling minute fibers and tendons relaxing into place after many hard days of work culminate in many jobs done and some of them well. I have a friend at my side and we look at each other and nod approvingly. The air around Tippencanoe Street is sprinkled lovingly with the unmistakable and unforgettable smell of a pig farm. Just then I look to my right side and see sitting at the other shoulder is my friend, and yours, Murphy's Law. A black car pulls up to the front of the beautiful 1870's era duplex. Music thumps regularly and distractingly into the air and into the brain. Murphy's Law chuckles as he bows out from the scene. His eye cocked in irritatingly in that manner that says oh so sickly... "I told you so."

I've always wanted to have a neighbor just like you
I've always wanted to live in a neighborhood with you

I watch the black car stop. A young man walks out. His white t-shirt is 14 sizes too large for his tall, wiry frame. His hair, bleached and short as is the tradition of the gentleman whose name is on this young man's shirt. I say to my girlfriend: "Look. It's Eminem!" He walks to the other side of my duplex. As he nears the other front door, a woman inhabiting the first floor apartment shouts out:
"Who the f*ck that?!"
I figure of course with proclamations such as this there must be someone else in the car. Clearly this is a lover's quarrell so I have to see who the other girl is. All I can see through the tinted window is someone else's hand. I clearly haven't established the validity of this claim at all, in any way. I did not ask the passenger what his/her intentions were with the driver and if they were honorable. Nor did I ask Slim Shady if he was dating either of the other two parties involved. He climbed the few steps to the front door and replied back to the screamer, the agitated proclaimer...
"Shut Up!"

I say to myself... "Hello Neighbors!" And I think to myself... Not more than 10 minutes ago I signed this lease... Damn...
Of course... one can easily imagine the great conversations we'll have.
"Hey Shady! My name is Whitey McCracker. Would you like to come over and start a knitting circle? We could watch Friends while we knit. Oh... I noticed you have a particular slant to your walk, you should sit up straight when you drive. It's better for your posture you know. You don't want scoliosis. Well, I know you have to take off now and take care of business but maybe you'd like to get some double-mocha-grande-frappucinos sometime. They're super delicious."

Please won't you be my neighbor?

As I drove away, wondering if I'd made the right choice about my apartment, some new information about my neighborhood came to light. Somewhere just off Greenbush Ave, I saw shirtless men, about 18-22, fighting each other. One threw an elbow into the other's jaw. An old man watched with a beer in one hand and a nasty dog, on a leash, in the other.


Next time... the BMV and Social Security

With Love and Respect,
Andrew