Out of Sorts

…consisted of two minor things.

We got a car wash. There is nothing quite like three kids in the back of a silver CR-V as the automatic machine went to town, set to the music of the opening sequence of Star Wars. We all totally hammed it up. What was even more fun, was when the dryer started, it looked like we were navigating a field of stars at warp speed.

The second most awesome thing was coming home from a Girl Scout meeting. Lexie, Allyson and I all practiced our “evil” laughs. Presumably to get people to buy more Girl Scout cookies.

Aw jea, peeps. It’s cookie time.

The small little segue aside, most times, I really love being a geek mom.

I’ve been on a mashup/remix kick a bit, I know. But I love how people experiment with music. It makes it all the more fun.

Have some “Celebrity Skin” by Hole

…and a more classic mash-up featuring The Police’s “Every Breath You Take” and Leona Lewis’, “Bleeding Love”.

Then way old-school with a little Aretha, The Beatles, and Elton John

This is why, no matter how old I am, I still love the muppets.

I’m even hormonal enough to note that the last line of the song, brought a little tear to my eye. :)

Thought you might enjoy this one. Allyson put on her Tinkerbell Halloween costume and grabbed her microphone. I never realized how much I listened to this song, until she started grooving and singing!

On a related note, I put this up last Thursday. By Friday, it had over 10K hits on youtube and was rated five stars. Apparently, someone linked it to Felicia Day who then posted it on The Guild’s facebook page along with others.

If you’re not a fan of The Guild — it’s some funny stuff. Take it from a recovering WoW player.

When I was a child, my mother started a very cool tradition. Every year, my brother and I along with my parents would select new Christmas tree ornaments. One for each of us. It could be something that represented you, a piece of pop-culture that you liked or something pretty.

Being the wicked cool mom that I am, I’ve decided to pass that tradition on to my children. This year as we perused the aisles of Target, an ornament caught my eye.

I liked it because it was kinda cute. Who wouldn’t love a portly, pink pig with cow spots, carrying a heart? To top it off, it’s wearing a crown and glittery angel wings.

Wait, wha?

It’s a loving, fairy princess cow pig. That’s totally friggen awesome.

To get the deeper meaning though, I initially took it as a referral to the mantra “When pigs fly.” That makes the whole thing even funnier because if you’ll notice at the top, it says “Sentimental Memories Collection”. So I guess my question is, for whom would you buy this and why? I bought it cause it’s a mystery, kinda like me.

But ultimately, if you’re buying it for someone else, what exactly are you telling them? Cue imaginary conversation in my head:

Me: I thought of you when I bought this ornament.

You: *Looks quizzically at ornament.*

Me: Yeah, it’s a loving fairy princess cow pig.

You: Are you saying I remind you of a loving fairy princess cow pig?

Me: Um, no. I wasn’t implying…um, okay, how about thinking of it as a statement? “Pigs have finally flown!”

You: Just what are you saying? How could you be that cruel? I said I was eventually going to stop having dream sex with Mike Rowe!

Me: Nevermind. *smash smash smash* Ow, my eye!

Conversations aside, the loving fairy cow pig is going on my damn tree.

Props to Ed. :)

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.

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.

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

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