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My brain and I are not on speaking terms, right now. I may invite it back into the fold when it starts working sanely again.

Edit: Maybe my brain is loved again. I don't know. I'll get back to you guys on that. *g*
My friend Jack turned his room into a giant pinhole camera. You can stand in it and watch the projected image materialize on paper (not photograph paper, yet). It's one of the coolest things I've ever seen.

It's also one of the best arguments I've heard for singles being better than doubles.

And in other news, I'm sick. I'm coughing, my nose is stuffed, and my ear wants to pop. It's a good thing that I have a billion school-dollars left on my student ID to buy Kleenex.

And we'll all float on anyway.

Tonight was the Battle of the Rock Band Bands at CMU. A few of my friends and I--Jack on bass, Paul on guitar, Sara singing, me on drums--signed up as The Steam Tunnel Project. We got decked out in rock star clothes, dragged pretty much our entire floor along as groupies (there were signs, and a gogo dancer) and rocked out.

We lost by a lot. But it was awesome fun, and we were the definite crowd favorites. And there are pictures, which is definitely a good thing, considering some of the antics our "fans" got up to. Plus, y'know, I definitely want a record of Jack jumping on furniture.

Goth20 -- a Retrospective

Or, how Bea failed to go to her first goth clubCollapse )

And that is the story of how I didn't go to my first goth club! Oh, yeah. I forgot to mention the best part. Most of what I just told you? We have it on film. *g*
So, college. First week of classes. O.O

Well, Concepts of Mathematics is going to be hard. Fascinating, but hard. Calc, I don't know yet. Programming should be something of a challenge, I think. Provided I manage to stay in the slightly more advanced class I talked my way into. And my Humanities Scholars course -- "The Social Impact of War" -- will be awesome if for no other reasons than that it's my only humanities course, and it comes pre-stocked with people I know and like. (All the HSP kids live on the same floor.)

I hadn't realized there was so much to do in college. And not just clubs. Just...so many cool people to hang out with, that there's always a group who can go out to dinner, or take a bus into Squirrel Hill to go grocery shopping together. It's awesome. Distracting, but awesome.

Also, my roommate is great. She's a singer, and there is much impromptu harmonizing in our room.

And with that, I go off to do homework. Lots and lots of homework.
It's official! I've moved in to college. I've got a week of orientation activities, and then classes start on the 25th.

My roommate is from California, and I ate dinner with her family tonight -- I got to choose the restaurant, because of course they didn't know any, and it was all very fun. Unfortunately, all of the orientation activities look a little bit...boring? Well, to give you an idea, we have a two hour lecture on drugs, and another one on "being part of the campus community." But I guess I'll just use the opportunity to meet people.

They gave us paper wristbands, and they expect us to keep them all week. I guess they like their freshmen unshowered. *g*
Anyone looking for a short, handy definition of "bittersweet"?

Packing for college.

I did five loads of laundry the other day, and didn't dry a couple of them well enough, so my mother keeps finding damp shirts and tsking and taking them out to run through the dryer again. Meanwhile, Boris is crawling through everything trying to make my clothes smell like cat. And as we sort, I occasionally come across some shirt or skirt or something that I had thought I'd lost forever, and my mom and I tell each other stories about it.

Three more days, you guys. I move into the dorm on Sunday.
I am so, so tired, and I can't sleep.

I'm going to go beat my head against something, now.

You know.

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.

No title today.

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.

Moments of baking brilliance

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.

Burning questions must be answered

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 madeCollapse )
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.)

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