Look Who's Talking

I'm about to admit something very random. I hate it when real babies and animals talk with adult voices in movies.

• Bruce Willis as the baby in "Look Who's Talking" - absolutely creepy. Babies aren't middle aged, balding men. Horrible.

• Those e-greetings that got sent around online a couple months ago with the baby singing about what goes on in his diapers... adult voice again. Unforgivable.

Now, I don't mind animated characters having adult voices, because there's no option for them to use their "real voice," with one exception:

• Garfield's voice when the cartoon got animated. Very Ben Stein sounding. Ruined Garfield for life. Who's with me?

There are a million other examples of this nightmarish practice. Personally, I think babies and animals should just use their own voices. So what if it's not English?

Moving right along... Santa Barbara was fun! And hot! I'm consistently amazed every time I visit that kids at UCSB get anything done. Both Friday and Saturday nights I slept through about a dozen house parties coming from our block. Long live earplugs. The nice thing about looking young, though, is that I fit in with the masses fine. It's like I can relive college parties again without seeming like that lame older kid who can't move on and get a job. I can probably keep this up till I'm 35 (yeah that's a little too lame).

The weeks are peeling away until my big vacay! I've decided to leave my fabulous Nikon SLR at home, and instead pack light. The last time I was in Europe my Nikon really weighed me down, even though the pics it took were amazing. So, I'm leaving all the lenses at home and going digital! Still have yet to figure out which cool, new camera I'll bring along, but I'll certainly put it to the test, and let you know how it held up.

The garbage men woke me up at 4:45 am this morning, like they do every Monday morning. I'm convinced they're trying to upset me. It's working, guys! Two thumbs up!

I also have 2 baby pigeons living in a nest in a little corner of the roof right outside my bedroom window. Pigeon babies don't look anything like adult pigeons. Really fuzzy and sweet. I was really annoyed when I discovered the nest, because I don't need any more feathered friends hanging out at Casa Lane. But I can't say no to those little beaks. Sigh. Let's hope they learn to fly out of the city and make a nice home in the redwoods.

I've always blamed my parents for my poor fashion sense as a child. My mom always says, "You wouldn't let us dress you so we just let you wear whatever you wanted." I like the Run-DMC sweats, but I'm pretty sure I didn't pick this haircut.

Happy week!

I love nVidia.

I love nVidia because they sponsor our LAN parties and provide us with great graphics cards. But when we're very, very good, once in a while they take us to Blowfish: Sushi to Die For!

Blowfish is one of the BEST sushi restaurants in the city. Fresh fish, intriguing menu, anime playing on TV screens around the tables. I know, I know, I hate anime. But I appreciate their effort.

I'm sitting in the nook right now, wondering if Dan was lying to me when he told me he ate a salad for lunch today. This is the same guy who refuses to eat tuna because it comes in a can that looks like cat food.

Prager keeps trying to steal this computer every time I walk to the printer.

Heather just walked by complaining of terrible vertigo that was brought on by a game of Wolfenstein: Enemy Territory. She can barely keep her eyes open.

Sausages and Apple Sauce: A Winning Combo

Actually, I'm a vegetarian so I don't eat sausages. But Boca meatless sausages will convert any link lover (get the Italian flavor), and the apple sauce sort of cuts down the salt. Thanks to the nice lady at the Whole Foods sample booth who let me eat three because I was really hungry that day. It's the best snack since mangoes and cottage cheese!

Just got back from an awesome, relaxing weekend in Santa Cruz, where I stayed in a little cottage on a secluded cove. Santa Cruz is one of my favorite weekend getaway spots in Norcal. It's full of beach freaks and varying degrees of overindulgence, but you gotta love that funky surf town vibe! And we lucked out with the weather, too.

I refuse to visit SC without at least one ride on the Giant Dipper at the Boardwalk. It's not the scariest, fastest, or newest rollercoaster, but it's still my absolute fave. The tunnel has a certain smell- always reminds me of the first time I mustered up the courage to ride.

A car just passed my window, its entire left side adorned with strips of duct tape that spelled "GET OFF THE PHONE AND DRIVE." I love San Francisco. But I also talk and drive, so actually it's me they're angry with.

Does it bother you when sentences are ended in prepositions? With regards to the previous paragraph, I believe correct form is "so actually it's me with whom they're angry." But that just doesn't sound like something I'd say.

Do you have word peeves? I do. Here are my top 5:

1. All usage of the word "ain't"

2. When "anyway" is made plural to "anyways"

3. The pronunciation of "Illinois" with a not-silent S

4. The phrase "Alls I know is..."

5. Catsup

But I am by no means off the hook! Here are 5 common peeves others say about my own language grasp:

1. "Dude" as an exclamation

2. Overuse of "like." I try, but it keeps coming out before every sentence.

3. "Stoked." I find this to be a perfectly suitable expression for being psyched, but people point and laugh at me.

4. Shortening of words for no reason: fabulous/fab, usual/us, difference/diff

5. Slurring perfectly delightful words like "probably" into "prolly" and spelling them that way on IM

Different strokes, different strokes. Variety makes me happy.

You know those pictures they try to sell you after you get off a rollercoaster that snapped you as you were coming around that big turn, hair straight up and mouth wide? We bought ours. It was $10 for two photo magnets. The nice man behind the counter threw in a photo keychain for free. I suspect he had really just accidentally printed three photographs, but we thanked him all the same.

My fridge is now running out of room for magnets. The fridge itself is completely hidden behind a mess of photos, clippings, recipes, stickers, and postcards. It gives so much color and life to my kitchen. Every time a new pic worthy of display comes around, I carefully rearrange the fridge to accommodate the new addition. There's a complicated pecking order regarding which pics deserve "above the line" status and which get stuck below freezer level.

If you were going to Ireland, would you be curious to visit N. Ireland? There's some concern about safety in those parts, but that's part of the intrigue for me. I'm going to be all over the UK in a few weeks, so post your best suggestions! I'm looking for those hidden gems not overrun by tourists, which is a tall order in the summer, but I know they exist.

When Breathing Strikes Back.

Here's an interesting problem: I'm having trouble breathing. It's not like asthma, where inhaling air itself is difficult, and it's not like a chest cold, where my breathing is haggard. Nope, I'm just forgetting to breathe.

I'll estimate that this has been going on for about a week or two. And it's very troublesome, because who forgets to breathe? I seem to be going for periods of 20 seconds or so, then realizing that I'm holding my breath, then trying to take deep breaths and getting lightheaded. I have no idea what's going on.

I did a little research on health message boards and surprisingly, my problem isn't that uncommon. Which eases my nerves a little. Although many people who have described the same symptoms as me are now being treated for panic attacks and/or anxiety disorders. Oh dear. I really don't think I have those. Do I?

I can't help but wonder if my performance anxiety is at least partly to blame. It's not easy to throw yourself into the gig I've got (and still keep your other job, too). While I'll admit the conscious stage fright left me after a few tries, the overall stress and desire to perform well certainly stayed. Everyone I work with who's on-air-been-there-done-that tells me that this too shall pass. I hope so, because I miss my oxygen. Work, stupid lungs!

On a somewhat related note, I learned this from my dictionary.com newsletter today:

stertorous \STUR-tuh-ruhs\, adjective:
   Characterized  by  a  heavy snoring or gasping sound; hoarsely
   breathing.

I don't think I snore. But I do sleepwalk. In another entry I'll tell you about my adventure at the Bellagio in Vegas. It's better than fiction.

And if things weren't strange enough, I had a dream last night that I was trying to sleep in my cube but forgot my favorite pillow. Wait, it gets better. The next day, my boss announced they were promoting me to work on Martin's show, Unscrewed. He said I got a big raise, but wouldn't tell me how much. I kept wandering around, wondering what my new hours were.

Somebody needs a vacation. Bad.
Seven weeks till Europe!

A Swarm of Bees.

Did you know that my colleague Martin Sargent's greatest fear is killer bees? I'm not talking about a little fright here and there. The man is terrified of bee swarms, and carefully follows news on killer bee attacks around the world.

I personally have no problem with bees. I've been stung here and there throughout my life, and while they're really annoying and itchy while they heal, I have bigger issues with mosquitoes.

Which brings me to my gripe of the week: I'm having a mosquito problem in my house. IN SAN FRANCISCO! There are no mosquitoes here! Or so I thought until recently. I got sucked pretty bad by a bloodthirsty vampire not too long ago, and I wrote it off as an unfortunate fluke for my shoulder. But then one morning last week I woke up to find 7 bites scattered across my body! WTF? I didn't even hear the little buggers buzzing around my ear. Oooo, doesn't it just make your skin crawl thinking of that little buzz? Anyway, I can't for the life of me figure out where they're coming from. I've been keeping my windows closed around dusk, but again this morning I saw a little guy fly past my eyes, so I know they continue to cohabitate with me. I hate them all and want to evict them. Be gone, horrid insects!

Today's pic gives me that fuzzy yesteryear feeling. Patrick had the cubecam, and we couldn't stay away! I wonder if Annabella will inherit Megan's bubble skills?