pseydtonne: Behold the Operator, speaking into a 1930s headset with its large mouthpiece. (Default)
My roommate and I were watching the 1972 version of Solaris this evening. I liked seeing a messy space station because it made sense. My roommate pointed out that, unlike Mir or other real space stations, Solaris did not have any mildew. The air in a space station is a moist mess -- oh, and it's noisy as hell because there is nowhere for sound to dissipate.

I have decided to confess this as plainly as possible: I conquered my childhood obsessive-compulsive disorder by becoming a subtle slob. Warning: some dirty words under here. Also, you may not agree with everything I say here. I seek your responses. Please read on. )

I guess it's a balancing act: I seek a certain level of disorder. When one of my stacks can no longer keep balance, I sort it out and it's clean. Then it can build up again. I cut my hair a little too close so that I'll have time for it to grow out. I won't join an organized religion for fear it will take my choices from me but I enjoy creating ceremonial events.

-physical challenge, Ps/d

August 2016

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