In the midst of all of this graduation-related (and, okay, a few other things-related) nostalgia, it's weirdly nice to be reminded of how glad I am that I'm no longer ten years old.

Harry Potter post, huh? It's been a while.

Well, dressing up is always fun, especially when it involves really curly hair and an enormous amount of cleavage and pointy boots. (I was Madam Rosmerta, a character I chose solely for those three attributes.) And being fannish again was fun, as I haven't done anything remotely like it since...going to see Andrew Wilder in junior year, I think, and even that's not really the same feeling. It was just fun.

That said, the movie? Awesome. I absolutely hated the book, and I think the movie's my favorite. Go figure.

(Drop me a line on AIM and I'll gush in person. I'll be happy to gush in lj comments tomorrow.)

I have mastered recursion! I AM FUCKING INVINCIBLE!

*

Okay, it was only one program, and the first and easiest one, at that. Whatever. I made a method call itself. It is possible that I do not completely fail at learning to program.

Many people have been shot in Iran in the past few days. One of those shootings--that of a woman named Neda--was captured on video.



Yeah.

Read more about Neda here and here, and lots of other places, if your Google is working right.

Conversation between my mother and me in the car:*

MOM: Want to hear what I got Kiera for her kindergarten graduation?

ME: Sure.

MOM: One of those stuffed animals with a code on the tag, and then if you go online and enter the code, they name a star after you.

ME: A real star?

MOM: Yeah. Isn't that cool?

ME: What if, in a thousand years, when humans are colonizing other planets, the first habitable one we find is around "Kiera"?

MOM: [laughs] There would be Kiera-rises and Kiera-sets.

ME: "You are my Kiera-shine, my only Kiera-shine..."

MOM: You'd better wear some Kiera-block, or you'll get Kiera-burned.

ME: And instead of naming their kids "Sunny," people will just name them "Kiera."


*Conversation may be edited for cutting out of digressions.

So, about two hours ago, I decided to try out a banana bread that I got from my host mother in Costa Rica. (Yeah, I'm aware it's two am. My sleep schedule's screwed.)

Now, this was a family recipe, and I was working with slightly different ingredients (North American bananas just aren't Costa Rican bananas) so I was prepared for a few hiccups, but I'm actually generally all right at baking. So an hour and a half ago, I pop the bread into the oven at the temperature Marta gave me: 175 degrees.

Now, to be fair, I did stop and think, "Hey, that's kind of low." But it had been in her family for at least two generations! I'd seen it in action! Clearly, the temperature couldn't be a mistake.

An hour and a half later, it's still not baked through. I must be doing something wrong. So I go online to check out other banana bread recipes, and...

Oh. Fuck. Celcius. 175 degrees Celcius.

Needless to say, the oven has been turned up. I'll report on the eventual banana bread tomorrow.

(Also! I got a phone call today from my friend Maria Fernanda from Costa Rica! Not only can I somehow still speak Spanish, I can speak Spanish over a very shaky cell phone connection. And also...I'd been missing her and everyone else, so it was really good to talk to her.)

UPDATE: The bread is...not quite the consistency I was looking for, but actually not bad. I'll have to try it again on the right temperature.

So, as I'm officially going to CMU next fall (in the school of computer science), I thought it would be a good idea to, um. Learn programming. Some of you may remember that I took an independent study in Java two years ago. Unfortunately, that class is part of a black hole in my memory, so I'm now working through a Java book with the help of a friend of my father's.

After two chapters and 29 practice programs, I can now:

* average three numbers together
* figure out the number of seconds in a given timeslot
* draw the Big Dipper
* make a pie chart

I am INVINCIBLE.

(Ten chapters left!)

I am working about thirty hours this week. Flaky coworkers and death in my boss's family have conspired to give me hours every day except Thursday.

Huh. I remember when this was going to be a part-time job. If I'd gotten that job at the summer camp, I don't know what they would have done. They just don't have anyone else to take some of these hours.

On the other hand, working in a gift shop is kind of ridiculously easy after a few months of trying to get five-year-olds to do their coloring at high noon in 90-degree weather in an un-air-conditioned classroom. Also, it pays better. *g*

And now, on to Java practice!

ETA: Speaking of which, my boss is just about the nicest person ever, so if your thoughts could be with him and his family, I'd appreciate it.

Happy Mother's Day, guys.

Now I'm going to bed.

Okay, guys. I'm a little embarrassed about this, because it's indicative of a level of obsession I didn't realize I had, but you know what? It amused me, and it may amuse some of you.

( Cut for the longest post I have ever made )

My president does believe in atheists. He does, he does!

Pittsburgh's going to the Superbowl!

Again!

(Okay, I know almost none of you are football fans, let alone Steelers fans. But, y'know. Hometown pride, and all that.)

Not usually a big poster of memes on this journal, but I did this one for fun and it turned out well.

It's the fifth sentence meme--pick the book nearest you, turn to page 56, and copy down the fifth sentence on that page. Most recently taken from cristalia.

Sentence 5, page 56 of The Riddle of Scheherazade by Raymond Smullyan.

"And so she began:"

*

Today I bought new glasses (I don't have them yet). Then they dilated my pupils to check my retinas, which meant I got to wear those disposable sunglasses that slip behind your real glasses for the next few hours, to prevent a blinding headaches. I may have looked like a dork, but I felt like Emily Prentiss.

In other news...when did I lose my depth perception? I don't know, but I did terribly on that part of the eye exam.

My last day of high school has been cancelled. Well.

Thank God.

Time served.

Or something like that?


ETA: And it's official. I have my diploma. They can't take it away from me.

Last night was not a great night for my sleep cycle. I went to bed at three am, and it was past four in the morning by the time I actually fell asleep.

Which is a long time to toss and turn. So to pass the time amusingly, I figured out ways that Criminal Minds would get rid of each character, should that actor try to leave. It's like counting sheep, only depressing!

( Disclaimer: I do not actually want these things to happen. I am not tempting fate. )

And there you have it. My 4 am thoughts on Criminal Minds.

I just finished my last piano recital (which wasn't exactly a recital, it was me and my teacher playing and then a tiny party). I had my last lesson on Friday.

Is it sad that I'm way more torn and melancholy about leaving this than I am about high school? Or just obvious?

Well, the old computer is dead. Its hard drive wore out, and thus it is unrevivable. It fought the good fight, though, and I mourn it greatly, despite the fact that, towards the end, it didn't work very well when I went downstairs, or when it was anything other than exactly parallel to the ground, or when I left the screensaver on too long. And also it was on its second battery. And its second power cord.

Anyway, there is a new computer in my life now. It's the first laptop I've ever had (well, I guess I've only had one, but I'm counting my parents' and my siblings' as well) which is not an IBM. It doesn't quite feel like mine. I greatly miss the little red mouse button. But! I'm grateful to have it. (I'd kind of forgotten what it was like to have a computer that runs like it's supposed to.)

It doesn't have a name yet, though. Does anyone have suggestions? I think it's a girl.

Well, my computer is dead. :(

I don't know exactly what's wrong with it, but it's unusable. We're going to try to get it fixed, but I'm going to be fairly computerless for a little while. (I'm typing this on my mom's computer.)

Luckily, I'd just backed up my most important files (the novel I'm working on, some fairly time-consuming homework for English class).

Anyway, if you don't hear from me much for a while, that's why.

Boris is sick. We're taking him to the vet/rescue hospital as soon as we can.

I have neither the time nor the inclination to talk about this more; I just thought you guys should know.

Because Boris (the cat has been named) doubled in size during the ten days I was away, I thought I'd take pictures for posterity, for when he's outgrown the dogs. So, without further ado...

( Boris the Somewhat Sleepy Giant )