Originally published at Out of Sorts. Please leave any comments there.
In the middle of the quiet night, when I am asleep, my car travels through time.
Don’t look at me like that.
It is the only reason why the clock in the dash has been slowly gaining time.
Let me explain.
I was one of those people who set their clocks far ahead in a feeble attempt to make myself feel better.
I’d rush out of the house, look at the clock in the car, freak out a little that I was going to be late, only to have the delicate kernel of memory engage and remind me that I had set the clock fast, so that I would be happy that I wasn’t tardy.
What?
In an effort to curb the insanity and to practice my, “holy hell, get out of the house and get to where you’re going” management skills, I reset the clock in my CR-V to the correct time. This was about two months ago. It was working well. I was getting to be a master. That’s until today. I looked from the digital clock on the dash to the XM radio that hovers slightly above it, and instantly noticed the disparity.
My clock had gained 10 minutes! In the course of two months, this car had done the impossible. It had found a way to cross the rift between time and space. And as I drove today, I realized that with the shift my car completed over multiple jaunts through different dimensions, that I too had interesting foresight. Behind the wheel, those ten minutes belonged to me. I could see that far into the future.
I know, this doesn’t seem like a whole lot of minutes, but it’s enough to win a football game, get out of the way of a speeding bus, catch a train, save someone from drowning, remember the crucial ingredient at the super market which will make or break a culinary masterpiece, grant insight to curb the words from your mouth in order not to have to say you’re sorry later, anticipate an important phone call… see this list goes on and on.
So thank you, my truly awesome time travelling car which grants me powers to see the future. I will not be resetting the time again. I will let you gain minutes and perhaps one day, I’ll be able to see farther than I had ever imagined.
Yes, I know this post will make me look like I’ve finally lost the last screw holding in my brain.
I’ve seen it.
**Incidentally, there is some truth to this story. While I may not have the time travelling or future seer powers, my car does continue to gain time. It’s very odd.
Originally published at Out of Sorts. Please leave any comments there.
Big Mac: I thought you were doing Weight Watchers?
Me: Yep.
Big Mac: Don’t you know I’m like a hundred gazillion points?
Me: Yep.
Big Mac: So spill it, why are you indulging in the horror that is me?
Me: Bad day.
Big Mac: Ah, emotional eater. Babe, you’re not my first.
Me: Really? Are you trying to make me feel worse? Cause, congratulations, you’re succeeding.
Big Mac: Not a tough love kinda woman are you?
Me: Some days it works.
Big Mac: Think of the potential slamming body you could have if you just made one good choice after another?
Me: Who said you could talk? Suddenly, McDonald’s food gives lip with every value meal.
Big Mac: Just think, the obesity epidemic could be over if we talked Americans out of eating crap like us.
Me: Good point. I’m still hungry.
Big Mac: Fine. Indulge. Give in. I’m sure I’ll make a great accessory in the next tagged photo on facebook.
Me: You read my blog?
Big Mac: Yeah, we think you should bitch more.
Me: ….
Big Mac: Seriously, you’re totally funny.
Me: Now you are just mocking me. When did food get internet access?
Big Mac: Wifi, baby. Micky D’s installs it in every burger so it can track consumer trends.
Me: Eww.
Big Mac: What, it’s capitalism at it’s best. Rise of the corporation! Eat, eat, eat, buy , buy, buy!
Me: *sighs and puts head on table*
Big Mac: Oh. I can see why you’re depressed. If it feels better, go ahead and eat me. Don’t worry about the tracking device, I’ve removed it’s functionality.
—
The Big Mac and I have been staring uncomfortably at each other for awhile now. Don’t know what’s going to happen. Stay tuned.
Originally published at Out of Sorts. Please leave any comments there.
Dear Family, Friends, Acquaintances, and Co-workers,
I know you’ve been playing around on Facebook lately. I can see how many farm animals you’ve slaughtered on Farm Town and how many goblins you’ve slayed in D&D. I am truly intrigued by what car or war hero or female goddess or insane murderer matches your personality. I love wishing you a Happy Birthday and I most certainly love poking you back. It helps me get to know you, really, it does.
I do have one request though — please don’t tag me in photos.
Outlining my fat ass with a drawing tool and typing in my name to ‘tag’ me in a photo that you’re probably lucky to still be alive after taking, is really not the wisest choice. Especially in photos where you can’t really see my face, but an outline of what looks to be human, but is really indeterminable. Or I especially love the photos where I’m eating some sort of food, probably the one meal I’ve allowed myself for the day, which to the untrained eye, looks like I’m a hungry pig at a trough. Yah, avoiding that would be greeeaaat. At the very least, just use excellent judgement. If my bra is showing, or I’ve got something in my teeth…probably not the best idea to post the picture, let alone identify the jackass sporting the spinach on the pearly whites.
I love all of you. I truly do. (Well, except that ONE person who I friended out of pure and insane guilt.) Show me you love me by not broadcasting my double chin, wide arms and big booty all over the social networking site.
Think of the children you’re scaring. Think of the old high school friends I will never be able to get revenge upon, er, umm…I got nothing else.
Thanks so much for all your help in advance.
Sincerely,
Kate “I’ll eat your soul if you tag me in another photo” Baker
Originally published at Out of Sorts. Please leave any comments there.
This morning, the house is bustling with the sound of movement. It’s usually around the holidays when the nicer clothes are laid out as we run about, getting ready for a special day. Today, however it’s different.
Today, we bury my grandfather. If you ask me what I remember, I’d probably recall something like this:
I can remember walking through his massive garden of zinnias and watching tons of butterflies. People would stop and take pictures of his front yard, and ask if they could buy a bunch or two.
I remember calling him the night the Red Sox won the World Series. Such a fan, he couldn’t take it — he had gone to bed early, thinking they would blow this like they had every other chance.
I remember picking peas from his immense vegetable gardens, collecting them in the fold in my shirt, and breaking them with him to prepare for dinner.
I remember that he showed me the proper way to eat a tomato, straight out of the garden with a little bottle of salt.
I remember him as the last person every Christmas, to open his gifts. He’d gently shake each package, and try to guess. I was mystified when he’d get them right.
I remember a lot.
He was stubborn, caring, proud, and humble all at the same time and he loved his family. He served this country in World War II, and knew the value of a hard day of work. Together with his wife, they raised six beautiful children. It’s no surprise that my Aunts and Uncles are incredible people because of their guidance.
While today is a solemn and sad day by all accounts, I am happy I had time with him. Knowing him, made me a better person and for that, I am grateful.
He will be missed.
Zdislaw J. Zielonka
1923 – - 2009
Zdislaw “Jerry” John Zielonka, 86, of Chicopee, passed away on Thursday, August 13, 2009 in Wilbraham. Born in Poznan, Poland and a resident of Chicopee for most of his life, he was the son of the late Frank and Stella (Konarski) Zielonka.
Jerry was a retired employee of Combustion engineering. He possessed a vast background in X-Ray analytical testing and retired in 1985. Jerry also had a career in aircraft maintenance beginning with his Navy service in World War II as an aircraft mechanic. He continued that career path with the U. S. Government at Westover AFB and then at Kaman Aircraft Corp in Bloomfield, CT working as an experimental helicopter mechanic.
Jerry was a Navy veteran of World War II. An Aircraft Machinist Mate Second Class he served at NAS Whidbey Island, WA and was attached to several Air Transport Squadrons. Jerry was a communicant of St. Stanislaus Basilica in Chicopee.
He was a man who loved life. An avid gardener, flowers were his passion, especially zinnias. He enjoyed music, particularly classical and loved to polka dance. The Red Sox and Patriots were his favorite teams and a good day was well spent with a good cigar and a fine glass of wine. Jerry was a devoted husband, father and grandfather. He was predeceased by the love of his life, Madeline (Stadnicki) Zielonka in 1985 and by his siblings, Stanley Zielonka, Wanda Sayko, Frances Patterson and Kazmiera “Kazie” Gurka.
Jerry is survived by his children, Ellen Wittmer of Brooklyn, CT, Janice Zielonka of Seattle, WA, Carol Mann of Storrs, CT, Karen Beauchemin of Belchertown, Mark Zielonka of Prospect, CT, Lauren Howell of Chicopee; (8) grandchildren, Kathryn Baker of Enfield, CT, Evan Wittmer of Berlin, CT, Matthew Morrisson , Heather Morrisson and Samuel Morrisson all of Kent, WA, Sara Morrisson of Brooklyn, NY, Jessica Zielonka and Rebecca Zielonka both of Prospect, CT and (5) great grandchildren.
Funeral services will be on Monday, August 17, 2009 from the Lawrence A. Maziarz Mortuary 456 Front St., Chicopee at 9:00 a.m., followed by the Liturgy of Christian Burial in St. Stanislaus Basilica at 10:00 a.m. Burial will be in St. Stanislaus Cemetery, Chicopee. Calling hours will be held on Sunday, August 16, 2009 from 4 to 7 p.m. Memorial contributions in Jerry’s memory may be made to the American Cancer Society, 30 Speen Street, Framingham, MA 01701. For Guest Book: maziarzmortuary.com
Originally published at Out of Sorts. Please leave any comments there.
The video is pretty pointless. Common prescription for most dance videos. Sexy women getting undressed and hopping in some sort of fluid.
Oh, don’t look at me like that. Just listen.
When I first heard “Deep at Night”, I immediately thought of the montage in the movie Real Genius. It’s almost what the underlying synth would sound like in “I’m Falling” if updated. The Comsat Angels rock out with the song below.
“Was it a dream where you see yourself standing in sort of sun-god robes on a pyramid with a thousand naked women screaming and throwing little pickles at you?”
Originally published at Out of Sorts. Please leave any comments there.
Not my words, those came from the brilliant Peter Watts.
I woke up early on Saturday morning feeling absolutely fantastic. The birds were singing. The sky was blue. People waved hello as I crossed the busy streets of Montreal on what could most certainly have been a perfect day.
Fuck that. Who needs flawless and harmonious peace and love when you can have Peter Watts, John Scalzi and Jon Courtenay Grimwood? Mind raping, raucous, existential fun that reading was, oh yes. Deadly whips and chains and insolent Gods. Beheaded introspection (is that possible?) never sounded so, dark and scintillating.
So long perfect day. Now where did I put those razor blades? ;)
Originally published at Out of Sorts. Please leave any comments there.
I’m beginning to slowly realize that the title of this post is not necessarily the same as being a fan of science fiction. If recent comments in the blog-o-sphere are any indication, the two are vastly different. Take the recent hullabaloo with Adam Roberts’ assessment of this year’s Hugo nominations. There seems to be both agreement with his ideas and a growing dissent.
A current Hugo nominee, John Scalzi, has offered his thoughts on the issue as well. Instead of reacting in defense of his novel, he sides with the group that Roberts attacks in the first sentence of his perceived elitist manifesto; the Science Fiction Fandom.
Ultimately, I’d have to say that I agree with Scalzi. It’s perfectly okay to dislike something. However, I take issue with Roberts trying to convince the world that everyone else must be wrong and that as a group, fandom is grossly stunted in their ability to appreciate fine science fiction and fantasy literature.
Roberts’ argument is moot atleast to me, only because I am of the mind to judge a book by multiple facets. Did it move me? Did it make me laugh? Did it make me cry? Did I want more? For most of the novels up for consideration this year, I’d say yes to most of those questions.
No one ever wins this argument, and I would go as far to say that it is a rather meaningless quibble to be had. Instead, the science fiction community should be discussing ways to better incorporate all forms of appreciation into fandom. This year’s Hugo nominees more than help with this agenda.
Sure, I guess you could look at the current list of best novels as mediocre if they don’t fit a narrow category . OR you can start recognizing that authors like Doctorow, Scalzi, Gaiman, and Stross are helping to build the fan base from the roots much like Heinlein, Clarke, Harrison, Norton, L’Engle and others did when SF/F became it’s own niche. Those authors, much like the ones on the current ballot offered memorable stories to the demographic every genre should be after; children.
The definition of ‘literary’ is changing to mean something much more encompassing. It’s up to you to either embrace the fuller meaning or rant when your personal ideals are not met.
I ask you, both fans of science fiction and science fiction fandom, is it a reflection of the current state when a publishing panel at ReaderCon this year suggested that the difference between an event like DragonCon and Worldcon is that the latter has more men in wheelchairs?
Old habits die hard. People cling to the familiar. It’s never been just about what may or may not have literary merit when it comes to storytelling. I don’t think it’s a matter of survival at this point, but in order for the genre to grow, we must embrace all aspects of the writing. Literary, entertaining, amusing, excellent story telling. Some have all, some have most, some are specialized in the effort of grasping different readership. All are successful in one way or another.
Embrace this and the fandom it brings with it, or face the fact one day no one will care, and the youth of today will not be filling those wheel chairs at future cons.
Personally, I’d like to see the grandchildren starting to attend today. How do we do this? By celebrating authors like Gaiman, Stross, Doctorow and Scalzi and not complaining that their works don’t fit narrow ideals.
Originally published at Out of Sorts. Please leave any comments there.
Two years ago, I moved back to the town in which I grew up. I hadn’t really explored it for the five years I was gone, so there were many surprises as to what had changed in my absence. Store fronts had come and gone and new houses now stood where small patches of forests had been growing.
Last year, I took my kids to the Memorial Day and July 4th parades the town has had long since I could remember. It was nice to see people lining the street and waving to our local heroes and dancing to the music of marching bands. I was pleased in this case to see that Enfield still values community where it matters the most.
This year was the 25th anniversary celebrating the 4th on our town green. What started as a tiny ‘Taste of Enfield’ with a few local food booths followed by 10 minutes of cheesy fireworks, had grown into something I barely recognized. When I was a kid, relatively unknown cover bands would cram into the little gazebo throughout the weekend, while children ran around the green and danced to the beat.
This year, it was the Los Lonely Boys and the Hartford Symphony Orchestra playing. David Foster and the Mohegan Sun Band were also there on a large constructed stage usually seen at music festivals.
There were so many people there this year that it was a vast sea of chairs and blankets no matter where you directed your eyes. Don’t get me wrong, there was pretty good attendance when I was a kid, but this was beyond anything I had experienced in the past.
As the girls and I barely managed to walk past the stage, a good portion surrounding the platform was barricaded, only allowing the corporate sponsors a seat in that pristine area. Corporate sponsors.
I’m sure the town had gained small business support in years past, but this was different. While I could understand the need to seek bigger donations, it unnerved me that with securing that money, Enfield ultimately bowed down and licked the feet of the local privileged.
We celebrated the 4th each year on the town green as one community. Children danced on stage to classic rock and blues tunes. You had room to walk and when you did, you ran into someone you knew almost all the time.
Perhaps I’ve been gone too long, but there wasn’t one person I recognized from my past, but then again there were so many people, they could have passed me by and I would have never seen them.
Despite the crowd, it had to be the coldest mid July celebration we’ve ever had. Usually heat lightning streaks through the night sky, but the girls and I were huddled on our little patch of grass under a fleece blanket waiting for the fireworks.
The display, which was one of the only highlights of the night was incredible. There was one summer back in the 80’s where only two fireworks had gone off and some problem prohibited the rest of the show. This year, color exploded in the sky for a good part of 25 minutes. What I thought was a finale was followed by a smaller finale, then followed by the biggest show of light I’ve ever seen at a local show. It was almost like with each ear splitting boom, the volume of the crowd surged as well, the excitement growing in the air until the climax. I don’t think I’ve ever been that moved at a fireworks display before.
In that one moment as everyone, (privileged and not) stared up that sky in wonder, I was instantly transported back in time and remembered what it felt like to celebrate the birth of our country, and belong to a great community. Growing pains and all.
Originally published at Out of Sorts. Please leave any comments there.
Here is a new theme!
I liked the “Open Air” theme by Woo Themes, but it just felt too impersonal. I tried my hand at enhancing the design to add a little more Kate into the mix, but everything I did broke something else. Frustrating.
I particularly like this theme for a number of reasons.
1.) The header graphic. It’s insanely cute. It tells a story. It’s somewhat tailored to who I am. Not only is the animation stunning, but you can interpret it a number of ways. It could be that I am the little girl in the middle with her eyes closed, dreaming of conquests, monsters and giraffes. It’s got a fantasy/sci-fi feel to it. Or perhaps, I’m showing that playing games with my friends is the best feeling in the world. Because really, the action depicted in the scene can be anything from D20 RP to RPG and strategy video games. It’s totally me. The only thing this picture is missing is the red dragon of desire doom.
2.) Neon – Who doesn’t like neon colors? (Okay, maybe you don’t, but I do, so nyeh.)
3.) It’s clean. The font is perfect, the sidebar is perfect (with the exeption of popular posts– which I’m working on).
4.) It’s fun. The whole theme just says “play with me” and I feel that it reflects the type of person I am or aspire to be on most days.
Let me know what you think!
Originally published at Out of Sorts. Please leave any comments there.
Recently purchased on Etsy.com (I got the last one, neener), this lovely little piece of geekery arrived today.
Packaged in a yellow envelope, I was pleasantly surprised to find a bunch of yummy butterscotch candy packed in with the watch.
I love when people go the little extra distance to show they care about you as a patron/person. It’s been too long since I’ve had that warm and fuzzy feeling in the bottom of my belly.
So fellow geeks out there who know exactly what this means, be jealous that I’m being eaten by a grue. Be very jealous!

Here’s a musical interlude to help you out.
Originally published at Amnesia. Please leave any comments there.
This will be the cake I suggest to my new groom. ;)
Hope that sweetens the deal.
You can read about it here . Also, take a look at the AT-AT Cake. Sometimes I really love being a geek.
Originally published at Amnesia. Please leave any comments there.
While I used this in yet another podcast done for Lee Stephen, I originally wrote this piece for Tobias Cressen, the villain in Peter Hodges’ forthcoming novel entitled “The Alchemist”. It never saw light of day as Pete has been trying to fine tune the work for podcasting, but I thought I could use it when I read from Lee’s upcoming published novel, “Hero”. I went for mysterious, crazy strings and harp which left me with a “What will he do next?” feeling.
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Originally published at Amnesia. Please leave any comments there.
I put this together over the last few days. I have to figure out why it sounds so good on GarageBand and sounds so muddied on a PC. I’m wondering if it’s just at that precipice of volume and crystallized threshold.
Not my best work by far, but it makes me chair dance.
Let me know if you like it or hate it.
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</li>Originally published at Amnesia. Please leave any comments there.
Some of the best advice I’ve ever received in my life involved the dissemination of information. That which can be said in 15 minutes or less is usually the most effective. On a smaller scale of things, Twitter has basically killed any attempt at blogging for me the last few months. Why write out a lengthly post on how you debated having bacon with breakfast this morning, or have had internal discussions on whether or not to shower every day since starting to work from home? With Twitter, 140 characters can usually exclaim to your loyal followers that you have an ingrown toenail and that your daughter has vomited for the fourth time in one day.
Granted, with Twitter I often find myself deleting character overage, which forces me to be creative in some of my updates. There have been some times where I’ve started to sound like those mobile phone commercials.
OMG, hi 2 u! My BFF sez hi, 2!
I do realize that while I may just over 40 followers since I’ve last checked, that I’m not reaching the amount of people that stop by my blog on a daily basis looking for refreshing and mind blowing content. The sheer awesomeness of my writing ability is a major draw and I know with Twitter’s ease of use and brevity, some may disagree that like makeup on a teenage girl, less is more.
Regardless, I will try to continue my blogging. I do have to admit however, that with everything going on in my personal/professional life, writing a full length blog post is akin to having no spoons in the silverware drawer when all you wanted was a cup of instant chocolate pudding. Do you take the effort and search through the pile of dirty dishes only to reclaim and wash the utensil therefore negating any sort of brevity which initially drove your actions or do you just open the lid of the pudding and start licking it out like a cat with a tongue disorder?
Wait, we were talking about Twitter right? I have no idea where the pudding analogy came in. Forgive me. See, had I twittered this whole blog post, it would have simply been:
Blogging sucks these days, Twitter is the shizzawesome!!!!111!!I haz pudding.
Originally published at Amnesia. Please leave any comments there.
Books - A Meme
Stolen from various members of the UCF.
What was the last book you bought?
Backup by Jim Butcher (Haha! I got a LE 1st Print HC - Neeneer)
Name a book you have read MORE than once
I don’t read books more than once. It’s a pet peeve actually. I can usually remember the gist of the story if it’s a book I like and there are just so many out there that I need to read, that I can’t go giving books special treatment!
Has a book ever fundamentally changed the way you see life? If yes, what was it?
Changed the way I see life? I wouldn’t go that far. Given me another perspective on the way things are, could be, were? Sure. Forever War by Joe Haldeman and Citizen of the Galaxy by Heinlein are right up there in making me hope for a better future than the one they provide in their stories.
How do you choose a book?
(E.g. by cover design and summary, recommendations or reviews?)
If I don’t have reader recommendations from friends, and I’m just browsing in the book store, then cover actually plays a rather large part in my selection. I hate to say it, but had I never heard the rave reviews concerning Patrick Rothfuss‘, The Name of the Wind, I would never have picked up the first version of the HC. It looked pretty cheesy. I ended up picking it up though and it’s now a collectable. Go figure.
Do you prefer Fiction or Non-Fiction?
I think I may own like four non-fiction books. I suck like that. My fiction collection is outrageous.
What’s more important in a novel, beautiful writing or a gripping plot?
Both. A gripping plot will not forgive crappy craft but beautiful writing doesn’t matter if I don’t give a shit about the characters. (I’m gonna steal Janiece’s answer)
Most loved/memorable character (character/book)
Auri (Name of the Wind), Kvothe (Name of the Wind), Aragorn (The Lord of the Rings), Harry Dresden (The Dresden Files), Lasciel (The Dresden Files), John Perry (Old Man’s War Trilogy), Tobias Cressen (The Alchemist), Ned Stark (A Game of Thrones)… Ahhh. I can’t possibly name them all.
Which book or books can be found on your nightstand at the moment?
The Lies of Locke Lamora by Scott Lynch, Agent to the Stars by John “No Comment” Scalzi, Sly Mongoose by Tobias Buckell
What was the last book you’ve read, and when was it?
A Decade of Whatever (Honestly, I skipped all the entries that were done since I started reading the blog back in early 2007), but it was nice to go back and see the stuff I had missed. Good mix of humor, politics and catassery on the part of John Scalzi.
Have you ever given up on a book half way in?
I really try not to, but I had to throw out my first book just about a year ago. The Story of O was just awful. I was hoping for a nice erotic fantasy read, but got rather sick to my stomach.
Originally published at Amnesia. Please leave any comments there.
Are you the type of person who after finding your way to the bottom of a bag of salted pretzels starts to eat the salt that has accumulated in the corner?
No? Well, uh, me neither…err.
God, I am so weird. Add this to the list of searching every kernel of popcorn at the bottom of the bowl for slight deviations in the shell; therefore assuming the kernel can be eaten because the shell has lost its structural integrity and is chewed easier than perfectly complete corn kernels.
Originally published at Amnesia. Please leave any comments there.
…type of gal I really am, watch this video below. I don’t know if because I actually had one of these things at some point in my life and had to watch Elmo shake his thang a million times a day, but I laughed so hard I was crying when I saw it.
I originally saw this on SplodeTV. Go there!
Originally published at Amnesia. Please leave any comments there.
Yeah, I got sucked into doing another group story. (Actually I volunteered.)
I posted my chapter yesterday. (Tom actually posted the story for me, because apparently I’m too incompetent on formats other than Wordpress to accomplish anything.)
I worked very long and hard on the piece. (I pumped it out in 8 hours, after I got the writing bug.)
I hate doing research. It’s such a pain in the ass to find things that aren’t wiki-related. Couple that with research on women in the 1940’s during WW2, and I was starving for information. (Actually, I found some very intriguing articles about the war movement. There are some very neat, authentic videos on Youtube by the US War Department in relation to women doing their part. )
I am too lazy for real punctuation in this post. (Yeah, what she said.)
Enjoy the story. (Or I will cry buckets of salty tears that will overflow and drown small helpless kittens.)
Think of the kittens. (I meant it about the crying.)
Let me know what you think! (Unless it’s bad.)










