I am so glad I don’t have a real social life. This allows me to indulge in science fiction and fantasy shows and for the last few weekends, it’s been heaven. Fringe Fridays, Doctor Who Saturdays and Game of Throne Sundays.

Unfortunately, this past Friday marked the end of the season for Fringe so I guess I’ll have to do something else that night now.

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Spoilers Ahead
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So lets start with the season finale of Fringe. From what I’ve read on the intarweebs, this was to be a series finale had it not been renewed for season four. Had it been the former, I would have broken all the glass items in my living room, including my TV. I’ve never been so upset with an ending since the Twin Peaks series or the false earth episode of BSG. Those two masterpieces illicited an amazing emotional response. Fringe was the same.

Losing Peter to an inter-dimensional abyss on the premise that he never existed made my blood boil. “He served his purpose.” What? I can possibly understand him disappearing after connecting the two worlds, but to never have existed doesn’t make any sense. It creates the ultimate paradox. Granted, I know it’s a TV show, but really, I spent my three years with this show only to be told the entire product was a lie? There was no payoff. If Peter had never been born, how did Walter start the events that lead them to where they are today? Is the season opener in September going to show Fauxlivia, Walternate, Walter and Olivia staring at each other witnessing the very first fringe event? If Peter never existed, how did Walternate start the machine if he and Fauxlivia’s baby never existed. Not to mention why bother having the observers prepare Walter to let go of a son he would never remember. It’s so messed up.

Stupid.

The only thing that could possibly make sense is a really interesting theory that states we create yet another world when we time travel. An off-shoot of the multiverse theory, every choice leads to a time line branch. No paradox is created because we start each world with a blank slate. So while Peter is erased from these two worlds, perhaps he exists in another.

What I would probably guess is that we’ll be spending a lot of time in the future with our cast, possibly with a Peter who still exists but who is not Peter. Hello, mind games. Regardless, I am very curious as to how they’ll solve this one.

Massive world-changing plot holes aside, John Noble needs an Oscar. I know, they don’t have Oscars for television, but he still deserves one. At the very least, he should get an Emmy and a Golden Globe for best ensemble cast. He plays what, six versions of himself now? The range of that man is incredible. We also saw very strong performances from Joshua Jackson, Anna Torv and Jasika Nicole. although, I will confess I was a bit taken aback at the aging. Joshua pulled off an older Peter, but the believability factor was just not there with Anna as almost 50 year old Olivia. Unless of course, there is just fantastic Oil of Olay products in 2021.

One of the more interesting questions the episode was whether or not I would procreate in the face of certain death. My initial answer was that if I knew the world was ending in my lifetime, I would not have children. It would weigh too heavily on my heart to know they would not have a full life and it would constantly be tinged with fear and imminent danger. Yet, this morning as I write this, I think my mind has changed.

A lot of the world complained we were offering so much media coverage of the Royal wedding a week ago. Even I rolled my eyes, but as I watched the union of two people who actually look as though they love each other, it softened the horrible things that have been plaguing the news headlines of late. It actually brought a happy tear to my eye. I’m not saying we should forget or push tragedy under the carpet, but its in those moments of happiness and joy that hope springs forth and propels us to continue.

Having children in the future world of Fringe would be a comfort and a continual driving force to try to change the future for their benefit. It also makes the strong point that as bad as we think this real world is right now, things can be exponentially worse. We create fear and are a fatalistic race of beasts. Imagine if there was certain proof that world was to actually end in our lifetimes.

Regardless, I will be tuning in come September to see where JJ and the crew decide to take me.

As most of you have seen, I’ve sold my first short story. I’ve always had a question as to what I should call myself should I ever get published and now, I need your help in deciding.

I originally thought going with Kate Baker would be the best, only because I’ve been using that name over at Clarkesworld Magazine for all the podcasts I’ve done. However, and its a good point — more than one person has commented how close the name is to the late Kage Baker. The last thing I would want to do is create confusion or look like I’m attempting to ride on such a wonderful author’s reputation.

So below — I’ve created a poll. These are the names I’m considering.

Choice 1 – Kate Baker (Again — name I’ve been using for CW Podcasts but nothing writing related.)
Choice 2 – Kathryn E. Baker – This is the name I legally sign
Choice 3 – Kathryn Nerys Baker – A name I came up with to sound like a writer
Choice 4 – Kathryn N. Baker – A variation of the writerly name
Choice 5 – Kathryn E. Wittmer – My maiden name
Choice 6 – Kathryn Baker (Suggested a few times, decided to add it)

If you have a choice that may sound better (serious names only, please) leave them in the comments.

Did you know you can paint in a chair? While I was sidelined with smashed ankle and couldn’t attend either

 LunaCon or PAXEast, I decided to give my living room a little makeover. With the generous help from dad and my son, we transformed my living room into something warm and inviting.

The picture to the right is how the walls looked when we first moved in about two and a half years ago. Unfortunately, those aren’t my couches, but the curtains stayed.

We left the room alone and felt bored with the whole thing. We stopped spending time in there. It was an “apartment” type feel. So we added a splash of color to the walls, brought up some lonely furniture from the basement and decorated with a few new things.

As we pulled down the curtains, we noticed gorgeous windows beneath. We decided against putting them back up.

Here’s the gallery of what now is the living room.

…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.