Sven the Blue Rat

Sven the Blue Rat passed promptly and peacefully on Thursday, February 11, 2010 at his home in "East Mortington," IL.

Presumably born between October 1 and November 1, 2008 in Peoria and obtained from the PetSmart at Glen Hollow on Saturday, November 29, 2008. The lone blue rat in the store, Sven caught the eye of his "mother," Sparky, who has an affinity for all things the color blue. "He was the best $13 I ever spent..." Sparky was quoted as saying just after the burial ceremony, which took place this past Thursday afternoon.

Sven was an avid lover of cheese, potato oles, grapes, climbing, dancing, and sleeping. His favorite hobbies included redecorating his house, watching television with family members, and chewing on sticks. Sven also loved music; his favorite artists were Kings of Leon, My Morning Jacket, Shinedown, and Eric Clapton. A gentle creature, he never intentionally bit or scratched a family member or friend. While rather cautious in nature (he was only loose in the house once and voluntarily returned to his home soon after getting away), Sven did venture outdoors from time to time for convertible rides around the Peoria-area.

But Sven will be remembered most for his ability to listen and his animated demeanor. "You just expected him to jump up and start talking!" Mama Sparky, Sven's "grandmother," said when asked about the experience of living with Sven. "He was a good little guy," Papa Sparky added. "Living with him broadened our horizons."

"Judge me for not what I am but who I am," was Sven's motto. A pioneer in the Rat-Acceptance movement, Sven won over many a visitor, including those from regions historically afflicted with illness spread by rats. Sven loved all visitors he met and was especially fond of his Aunts Ames and Cher, as well as his aunt Ally, whom he never had the pleasure of meeting in person. Sven many times mentioned the great time he had during the week this past summer he stayed with his Aunt Kat and Uncle Todd in Dunlap. While never a visitor, through pictures and stories he was infamous among the 3rd shift operators and management team at Big Yellow in East Peoria.

Sven will be greatly missed, but he will be remembered fondly and shall always be forever grateful for his companionship, support, love, and mad rat belly dancing skills.

Sven was buried in a non-denominational ceremony under a new tree at the home he shared with his family. He is survived by his family and a legion of friends and admirers. Per his request, his home and furnishing were donated to the science class at a local school. Donations to animal-based causes can be made in Sven's honor.

Snow What?

I used to laugh at that scene in Fargo where William H. Macy is having a hissy fit while scraping his windshield. Well, that's kind of me now, sans actual fit but complete with vigorous scraping motion and weird cold-induced noises.

See, the trick is to bundle up really well and then just take a dash at your car. I'm slowed a bit by the turnstile gate at work, but if I can get some speed up, it keeps me from cussing (loudly) and warms me up a bit before I get to scraping. For the record, I miss Canyonero 2.0 because it had a remote starter and keyless entry, so I could start my car from a distance and not worry about my keys getting locked inside. I do love my Toyota, but all of the braking system/accelerator issues in the media are overshadowing the possessed power locks these cars tend to have. And I just don't even want to bother with risking getting locked out of my running car in a parking lot - especially at work.

Here are some tips for you who aren't fortunate enough to live in a tundra and thus aren't seasoned snow removers:

1. If you can, have your car running while you scrap. It's not 100% necessary but it really does help and it's efficient.
2. Get one of those long handled scrapers. They're great for us short girls and it gives you some mechanical advantage.
3. Wear gloves. Mittens work too. Just makes sure you have something covering the digits so you don't feel like you're going to snap one off.
4. If it's snowing/going to snow and you're going to be parked in place for a while, put the wiper blades up on your car. It eliminates the need to 'peel and pray' prior to scraping
5. Caught completely unprepared? Use a plastic (credit-type) card. Don't use an important one as there's decent chance of bending it up during use. Or, better yet, get a cute boy to scrape for you. Actually, any helpful boy will work just fine. If he won't help, that's what snowballs with pennies jammed in them are for
6. Frozen locks? I like key+lighter. Do not attempt if you just sprayed alcohol de-icer all over everything though - probably not the type of fun you want to have
7. If you do happen to run your wipers over the ice and find that they then won't contact the windshield well, pick 'em up and drop 'em back against the windshield a few times and they should start working better

While this seems pretty basic, I had to learn a few on that list the hard way. Unfortunately, "move to a warm climate" isn't a good avoidance plan because the whole country, it seems, has been locked in an icy death grip this winter. Being optimistic: at least it's good weather to chill a case in the trunk while at work all day.

Scotch and Sunday

After taking a weekend off from everything, I've decided to prepare for the upcoming week the best way I know how: drinking. A beer mug is the best I could find, but I filled it to the top line of the design with ice and then I filled the mug a quarter of the way with Chivas Regal. Finally, I topped it off to the ice line with water from the reverse-osmosis tap at the sink. Can't go muddying my tasty drink with that nasty Peoria-area water.

I guess I could say I'm celebrating tonight. I've decided that after a week of being, yet again, down with the sickness that I'm ready to be well again. Also, last week was one of those sweeps week-like in terms of things happening. You name it, it occurred. Reappearance of long lost hot guy? Check. Broken equipment. Check. I stopped shipments from multiple facilities. Basically, I bamf-ed it out. And I felt like hell and probably should have been at home in my jammies, but I toughed it out and went at it.

So raise a glass and here's to me. I rock. This week and then one more week after that and I'm off to Florida, potential future home of mine. I don't know when or how I'll end up there, but I'd like to think it's somewhat of a certainty. It's weird there and it's warm. Basically, it's my kind of place. I don't think my story here is over quite yet, but it's fun to drink my scotch and contemplate what's on the horizon.

What Would You Do if a Crazy Person Punched You?

As I'm presently home-bound, afflicted with (according to the doctor) 'probably H1N1,' I have a lot of time to catch up on my intellectual reading...TMZ, Perez Hilton. Fark, etc. One story that caught my attention was the crazy guy that punched Leona Lewis in the head during one of her book signings. Seeing as how being randomly accosted by strangers appears to be part of my going-out-routine, I can't help but a) thank my lucky stars that no one's actually punched me yet, and b) wonder what I would do in such a situation. Well, given how on this past Saturday night at Fourth Street, I had some drunken idiot-girl dressed as a ghoul run up and scream into my face and I responded (much to her surprise and dismay) by getting back into her face and screaming her down and away from me until she ran off, I think I probably would have punched the guy back. Thoughts?

PS - I blame ghoul-girl for infecting me with 'probably H1N1'

Where Were You 8 Years Ago This Morning?

I vividly recall lying in my bed, the radio alarm clock had been going off intermittently for the past half hour and at this point, I was fading in and out of consciousness while top 40 radio played in the background. It was almost 8 o'clock (central time) because at this point, as it did every morning, it had come for the news update. I closed my eyes and began to allow myself to drift back to sleep because I still had 90 minutes until it was time for financial accounting class to begin.

"A plane has flown into the World Trade Center..."

I opened my eyes at the sound of this news and pondered its implications. Small aircraft could become disoriented in thick fog. Perhaps it was foggy in New York City and not beautiful and clear like it was in Southern Illinois. I turned on the television, channel on NBC affiliate from last viewing, thinking I'd get a visual from the Today Show.

The image on the television was the utter antithesis of what I had expected. Yes, it's anticipated that an airplane crash will be bad but this was just shockingly awful. One deep, gaping hole with pattern of wings and opaque black smoke pouring into the crisp and clear New York morning. I sat upright in bed, transfixed, mouth agape and staring at the screen. My mind could not comprehend that this, the stuff of movies, could be happening in reality while I watched. At this point I had no concept of time, merely before and after what I would see next.

From the corner of the screen, I saw a white-silver streak scream across the screen and into the South Tower. I saw the building swallow the plane and then vomit flames out the side. I stared in horror at the building on the screen, bracing myself for the coming onslaught of projectiles to assault the tower. But they didn't come, it wasn't a missile, it wasn't a missile in the traditional sense but a plane used as such.

I called my Dad. I called my Mom. I called Ames. And then, I got in the shower, washed my hair, dried off, put on jeans, tshirt, flip flops, grabbed my backpack and I went to class. Driving up whatever road it was I took to class, I turned on the radio, but the stations were still playing music. I could have sworn that at one point a station was playing REM's "It's the End of the World as We Know It." As wrong as that would have been, I'm positive it did occur. I'm pretty sure at one point I cried while watching the towers burn while dressing to leave. It was the first time I can ever recall crying, or even reacting at all, over something I saw on the news.

"There's nothing we can do right now, let's have class" was the battle cry of my professor. Even now, nearly a decade later, I still don't think this was a callous statement, but I can't really, even now, put into words why. Classes ended early. I was walking to my car and met up with a group of students, huddled around a portable television. We all shook hands and introduced ourselves to each other and then silently watched as the south tower fell. Even on a six by six screen, it felt like that cloud of smoke, ash, bodies, and debris was surrounding us. We all just stood there and looked at each other. Someone choked out "God Bless America, donate blood!" and we all parted ways. I never saw any of these people again but I'm not sure that I could even have picked them out of a crowd after that. I stopped and bought gas on the way home, knowing that the price would go up. By the time I got home, the north tower had fallen.

September 11th is a very abstract thing to me. This year I'm pretty angry about it. Not so much that it happened but that no one's talking about it today. It's only been 8 years and our whole way of life has changed because of it in ways both obvious and subtle.

In the days following the attack, I was in awe of how quiet things were. When this happened, I was living in a flight path and would often hear planes and helicopters passing over. For nearly a week I heard nothing. Standing in the side yard, I stood at the sky and searched for signs of anything that flew but there was nothing, not even birds.

So yes, I remember where I was and what I was doing on the morning of September 11. And I also remember what I was that afternoon, evening and the days following.

Signs the World is Ending

I've been reading about the end of times lately. The latest theory is in the year 2012, when the Mayan calendar ends, the poles on the earth will reverse and the world will end in the process. There's little scientific support in such an event occurring, but I do think the end is in fact here, and see below for my reasons why:

1. Climate changes - they never bode well for any species, inevitably some species will die and others will emerge. Hence, our world, as we know it, at least, could end.
2. Increase in celebrity deaths. All of our entertainers will die and we in turn shall perish from boredom.
3. Proliferation of idiocy. The intelligent will be so busy working on bettering the world and academic pursuits that the intelligent will die off and the idiots shall reign supreme. Left to play with the toys devised by the intelligent, the world will inevitably end with a mighty bang preceded by a "hey y'all, watch this!"
4. Mr. Chevy Nova got engaged recently
5. Lately all the negative Nancies I know have been cheerful. If it wasn't said that some people get better just before it ends, I'd believe it based on seeing certain people actually crack wide, toothy smiles

Creative Funding

I read an article on cnn.com tonight stating that California is kicking around legalizing marijuana and putting a $50 tax per ounce in hopes to raise money to get out of its current cash-strapped condition. Estimated figures put revenue generated at $1billion. So, the question is this - if California legalizes (the sale of) pot, do you think they'll tack on a bunch of regulations about how it can be used once sold? Will it be legal to possess it? Or will it be like the radar detector - sure, you can buy it, but don't be caught owning it?

The article also mentioned that Kentucky is putting a tax on ring tones.

Given all the Hollywood-types and other "important" people with cell phones in California and that marijuana is unofficially one of the cash crops of Kentucky, I think things may be a bit backward.

Thoughts?