Sayonara Haiku

Before I say goodbye to haiku, I would like to recognize two pivotal players in making this month's plogging happen: my index finger and thumb. They had to count about 33% more syllables than the other fingers, and they did so with the honor of a samurai master. Arigato, finger-san.

August's last poem:

My final Haiku
Shoes and ships and sealing wax,
Haiku'ed about lots.

Stay tuned for the announcement of September's poem type....

My Big Adventure

What a fine retrospective time it is for Poetic Jabberwocky.

First, I have made it to 200+ hits. I estimate that the percentage that are actually attributed to me is decreasing. Second, it is the end of a month and therefore the end of a certain kind of plogging.* That's right, haiku has had its time in the limelight and now it must retire to the area outside of Mendocino and do community theater to make way for newer, younger, more perky poetry.

Third, and most importantly, I got a blog-to-blog shout out from one of the funniest peeps I know. (Or don't know, if you are trying to figure out who I am, weird internet stalker.) I would like to cross-shout-out her blog so check it out: Smaller Adventure

I've made it! haiku:

Mentioned by the best,
Make her laugh and you're worthy.
She's a blog icon.

* Plogging = poetic blogging. I just made it up so put down that dictionary.

Wasp Attack

Ok now that I have publicly (via blog) claimed not to be obsessed with my dog (AKA The Monster) but I have something to confess. I actually rushed my dog to the emergency clinic yesterday with a wasp sting. It gets more ridiculous, the wasp sting was in her mouth.

Yes, IN her mouth. You see, The Monster likes to chase flying insects. I honestly I don't mind that little indiscretion because she keeps our home relatively fly-free and she spits them right out.

Well my nurturing of this habit apparently gave her the courage to take on bigger insects because while she was outside yesterday she tried to eat a wasp. Obviously they have a better defense mechanism than flies do and that is how she got stung.

I fed her a Benadryl, but she started to look groggy and stumble around so I took her in to the emergency vet.

It turns out The Monster was having a reaction to the sting and the Benadryl helped, but I did not even think twice about the possible price tag before taking her in for a probably small thing. So I guess I am a huge animal softy.

And now that I have that off my chest, I would also like to admit, sometimes I actually do try and reason with her.

Canine oral wasp sting haiku:

Wasp sting on her tongue.
Could effect getting kisses
If it starts to swell.

[Ed. note: A huge shout out to Jeanie who found a nearby clinic online and talked me through the whole ordeal even though she is a doctor for people, not dogs. Also it was a Sunday.]

It's Science Fiction, Dangit!

I'm not sure if anyone watches the SciFi channel except me and one of my friends, but you should. It has some great programs like Eureka and the Stargate series. They also have awesomely terrible movies like Mega Shark vs. Giant Octopus starring Debbie Gibson. I did not make that up, it showed on Saturday. I didn't see it but I have my money on the Octopus because you could get Lost in His Eyes. (Nerdy Debbie Gibson reference).

Anyway, I am absolutely tickled pink about their programming choices...until recently. They have really gone and done it now - the network executives have alienated (pun intended) their nerdy customer-base by changing their name to the SYFY channel. What the heck is that?

SyFy is stupid haiku:

Syfy. Looks like a
Dumb nickname for syphilis.
Don't erase your past.

Spam in a Can

Ok we are clearly in a recession. I just heard an ad on the radio for Spam. The ad claimed that cooking with Spam will "break the monotony." If a single color, textureless food out of a can is breaking the monotony for people, this country is much worse off than I thought.

Help us Obama!!

Spam haiku:

Spam, still seems traif,* though
It may not contain real ham.
Looks like food from space.

*For all you goys out there, traif = not kosher.

Note

Sorry world, my internet access has been messed up so I have not been able to post in the past week. I am going to make up for it before haiku month is over though, at least one haiku per day that I missed. I was writing some, but alas was unable to "publish."

And was it really haiku-ing about life if no one reads them?

Blog access denied
A tree falls in the forest.
No one hears the thought.

Non-Observer

Is it just me or is the Dallas Observer not worth the paper it's asking price?*

Someone [coughs while saying Schutze] has confused good investigative journalism with snarky, fact-indifferent articles about "the man" and his "minions." Plus the intros to news articles in the style of high school creative writing class are gag-inducing.

The concert info, restaurant, and movie reviews sections are still absolutely awesome, but this city (or possibly just me?) suffers greatly by not having middle-of-the-road coverage on local politics and events. God knows we can't trust the DMN for that.

You know how the Financial Times prints on pink paper? Well the Observer writing is so sensationalist that they should print feature articles on yellow paper so readers could immediately recognize the kind of journalism used. Zing!

Dallas Observer
I observe: arts sections - rock!
Feature stories - crap.

*Just in case you don't live in Dallas, are illiterate, or have never seen the lining of a local homeless person's push cart, I shall tell you this: the Dallas Observer is free.

Powerless

I have somehow misplaced the power cord to my laptop. This means I have to suffer through class without all of my electronic crutches. By electronic crutches, I mean my note taking software, but more disgustingly access to my email, chatting software, and funny blogs to read when enduring a painful case of boredom.

I also learned that my writing looks like a child's cursive lesson. But really, is good penmanship really such an important skill anymore?

And without the computer, I can't take notes in outline format like I usually do because I am too scared to commit to a structure in ink. Typing is just so much more temporary. Maybe my generation's commitment issues now extend to note taking. So sad.

Power haiku:

I have no power
to entertain myself when
I've no power cord.

[Ed. note: I edited this post about eleven times in six minutes and I still don't like the use of the word "I've" in the last line so I may edit it again. Commitment issues!]

Clutter

Here is another short haiku I wrote about how I feel after spending 2 months without most of my "stuff" and then coming home to a tiny but very full house.

Clutter
You own me.
Too much!

[Ed. note: I felt like Michelle Tanner, above, from Full House...get it...because of the show? She was on the show called Full..oh you did get it.]

Sense of Entitlement

Americans are know abroad for demanding things. All kinds of things, in fact. For example, loudly doubting that you were given the right change when you don't even know the value of any local coins is not so much shrewd traveling as it is being an a-hole.

A friend and I spent a day in England making fun of how Americans did this (by playing obnoxious American with each other) and it was quite liberating. I think acknowledging that bias and consciously expelling it was a personal improvement, until the other day when I had to wait in line at the school IT desk behind some first year students. Doesn't a mature student get to go to the front of the line?!? Stinkin' new folks.

Entitlement haiku:

Entitlement means
I get things I didn't earn
Or else I complain.

H[aiku]1N1

[Editor's note: I just found this one in my drafts, it is from when I was in England.]

Here is one thing I will not miss about England: talk of the swine flu. I think the constant discussion of basic mutated cold germs and how to avoid them is worse than getting the actual flu.

Germs hang in the air.
Suspect sneezers and the young.
Wash hands well. Swine flu.

Canine Bulemia

People worry so much about their pets these days that it can get a little ridiculous in my opinion. I cannot imagine a scenario where I would consider acupuncture or psychoanalysis for my dog, yet both of these services exist and seem to be thriving.

I don't refer to myself as the dog's mommy since I did not give birth to her and we are, in fact, completely different species. I don't reason with her or explain why I have told her no. I don't believe in dressing her in clothing and accessories.*

But in spite of my logical approach to dog rearing, I am suddenly worried. I think my dog has an eating disorder. First of all, when I put food in her bowl, she will not eat it until I have walked away. She just stares at me as if to say "Could I have a little privacy here?"

Second, she is doing a lot of vomiting lately. I am sorry for those that find this gross but you should be aware that this activity is voluntary for dogs. They can't digest grass, so they eat it when they want to yack up whatever is in their stomach. My dog as been on a steady diet of St. Augustine with occasional side of ryegrass.

Third, she has gotten quite thin lately. I thought it was because the people who took care of her while I was away walked her a lot, but now I am starting to wonder if there are unhealthy thoughts behind that physique.
I vaguely remember from some after school special that these signs indicate an eating disorder. I am not sure if I should be worried.

Canine eating disorder mantra haiku:
Don't eat while they watch,
Nibbles only past midnight
Chomp grass 'til you yack.

*Except one Halloween but that Yoda costume was too good to pass up. If you don't belive me, please see below.

Gilbert

This one goes out to a guy who makes anything seem possible.

My friend has a really cool story: When she was 18 she decided to take a European vacation. Because of a combination of random reasons, she ended up spending an unplanned night in Switzerland where she happened to meet a guy. He was cute, polite, and had a very exotic sounding name. He took his afternoon and evening to show her and her friends around. She only saw him that night and went on with her trip as planned.

When she got home, she found that he had written her a letter and from that day on they wrote each other every day. He was in Switzerland, she was in Texas but they kept writing and eventually...they married. That was over 13 years ago.

I really love their story, not just because they are both really neat people and deserve the greatest happiness, but because it is a great reminder that no matter what your plans in life, really incredible and unexpected things can happen when you very least expect it.

Haiku for Gilbert (the fellow formerly known as Zhil-bear):

He gave it his all,
Then gave it all up for love
Even the soft "T".

Time Zoning Out

Now that I am back state-side, I have had to switch all of my electronics back to Central Standard time. This should be the easiest thing in the world, really, because I am young-ish and therefore I know how to work most basic technology. Changing my blackberry time zone - no problem. Clock on my computer - total cinch.

But I never imagined the residual time and geography displacement issues resulting from operating technology in another country. For example, this blog kept thinking that I was still on English time and therefore was posting in the future. (Cue Twilight Zone music.) Also, I was trying to buy a plane ticket on the American Airlines site the other day and it kept telling me the price in British pounds. (It looks so much cheaper but it's not!)

Almost a week later, I think I have managed to convince blogspot that I am back in good ole Central Standard Time but I am apparently going to have to start flying Delta or United.

Using technology haiku:

Oh, technology
Communicating through you
But never with you.

Fake I-lashes

[Editor's note: I'm so vain. I probably think this post is about me, 'bout me, 'bout me.]

So there is a new phenomenon of women going to a salon to get fake eyelashes. The eyelashes aren't fake in the Miss Piggy/glue strip sense, they are added one by one using a special adhesive and they stay for on for weeks. The great thing about them is that you do not have to put on mascara. Ever.

After my stint abroad, my skin is looking its best (I think it was eating all fresh food) and so I could get away with fake eyelashes and moisturizer and not have to put on makeup most days. I find that kind of freedom and glamor totally intoxicating.

However the eyelashes are not cheap and these days I am very cheap so they are out of the question. I thought, "Perhaps I should buy a lottery ticket - all I would need is to win a few hundred dollars..." I'll bet I'd be the only lottery player ever chanting "Momma needs a new pair of eyelashes."

Eyelash haiku:

Oh fake eyelashes
Will they cause me to flirt when
I just mean to blink?

Feel free to weigh in: if you found yourself with an unassigned $500 windfall, how would you indulge?

Hai Ku-rrection

Technically, a haiku is supposed to be about nature so a good deal of mine would be disqualified by the ardent Japanese poetry fan. Luckily neither of the people who read this blog are known to be ardent fans of Japanese poetry. If I'm wrong about that just let me live in ignorance please. Arigato reader-san.

Even so, there are some artful kinds of haiku and I am using another (very short) cadence here that I think captures what wabi haiku is supposed to be. Wabi refers to an older generation of haiku that discuss "austere beauty and loneliness."

The rain this morning reminded me of the constant rain in Oxford. Oxford weather was a nice change to the crazy summer temperatures back home but there were one or two times that the rain really there got me down.

Wabi haiku about rain:

It rains
I am here
Alone.

[Ed. note: a shout out to my mom who accidentally took that picture when trying to photograph something through the window.]

Porters

I was thinking today about the Bobs, who were the porters at Oxford.

Porters are the coolest thing ever, they are like the love children of a concierge at a top New York hotel and one of those under the bridge trolls that prevents you from passing without paying a toll. They regulate the flow at front door of the college to make sure that all visitors pay admission (the colleges are so pretty that people pay to come to tour them) but that no unsavory characters come in.

The porters also have stamps, keys to meeting rooms and squash courts, and information about everything from DHL pickup schedules to buses. I wish my house came with a porter.

Of all the porters at University College, Bob with the tattoo was widely recognized to be the best. He was really adorable and if you told him how wonderful he was he would blush and go all quiet. He was pretty much perfect.

Porter haiku:

Bob with a tattoo
Glad our time was not shorter
You're the best porter.

Labor Day Plans

This Labor Day, I have the coolest plans. My friends are getting married and I will be bridesmaid-ing for the weekend.

I won't say where this will go down for the purposes of securing my identity and theirs, and because I don't want anyone showing up and drinking alcohol that rightly belongs in my stomach. But suffice it to say there will be seersucker, mint juleps, a blue flag with a crescent moon and palm tree...and it is probably a lot cooler* than where you are going to be.

There was no immediate point to telling you this now, other than to rub it in.

Long weekend nuptials haiku:
Labor day wedding,
An extra day of fun and
hangover healing.

* The awesomeness kind of cooler, but also maybe temperature cooler.

To Do

[Editor's note: This post was supposed to go up before I left Oxford, but it didn't. I suspect it didn't post because I never hit the "post" button, but I couldn't say for sure. I guess we'll never know.]

One hundred things on
my to do list but, just one
afternoon remains.

There are a long list of things I wanted to do while in England that I now won't have time to do before I leave. Somehow having a backlong of items on my suggested to do list makes me feel like I haven't had enough time here, like maybe I should just stay for a few more weeks. Here is a sample of the things I missed out on:

-Take a day trip to Stratford-Upon-Avon and seen a play by the Royal Shakespeare Company

-Eat sausage and mash at The Chequers

-Spend the night in Newcastle

-Go to Wales, just to say I had.

-Meet up with friends in Dublin

-Seen Jude Law play Hamlet in London

-Go punting again

But then I think of all the things I have done since I've been here and I would switch out any of those things for the items on my big paper of haven't-done:

-Had Sunday Roast at The Chequers

-Spend the night in Blackpool, the Atlantic City of England

-Go to Edinburgh and get a taste of Scotland

-Met new friends in pubs all over England

-Seen Sir Ian McKellen and Patrick Steward in Waiting for Godot

-Had one of the most eventful punting experiences ever

All in all, I am one very lucky person. And then again I have that one afternoon left...

Flying in the Rain

My domestic flight home out of O'Hare was kind of a charlie foxtrot if you know what I mean.* And for some reason I am always sitting in the middle of the plane where I can look straight down the wing while flying.

When it is dark and raining, it always reminds me of the last vignette from Twilight Zone: The Movie when John Lithgow (a nervous flier) looks out the airplane window to find some kind of flying zombie eating the engine. Of course, no one believes him, particularly because he is the only one that sees it because it is only visible when the lightning flashes.

The weird snot-covered plane eater is really tormenting Lithgow and causing the technical malfunctions on the flight (see above). After they land everyone else discovers Lithgow was right, but sadly has gone loony tunes by then. I always found that scene totally terrifying, mostly because if there is a jet engine chomping monster, I do NOT want to be the only one to see it. That is a lot of responsibility.

Luckily I promptly fell asleep on my O'Hare flight, so if there was a snot-covered plane eater it was someone else's problem.

Twilight Zone haiku:

Flying when it rains,
Lighting flash - please no monster,
Feeling like Lithgow.
* Military alphabet for C-F which stands for cluster something or other. You know.