I don’t “like” topics. I obsess over them like a raccoon with a shiny object and no supervision. Same energy. Different decade.
Geocaching? That’s my version of therapy. No couch. No awkward eye contact. Just me, a GPS, and the creeping realization that I’m climbing over questionable terrain for a soggy Tupperware container someone hid in 2007. And somehow… it’s perfect. It’s treasure hunting without the pirates. Or the treasure. Or the dignity. Still counts.
Then there’s geohashing. Because apparently normal coordinates weren’t chaotic enough. Nothing like letting a math formula decide where I’m going today. Could be a scenic hill. Could be a drainage ditch behind a Walmart. The universe shrugs, I go anyway. There’s something weirdly comforting about surrendering control to randomness. Like life, but with more mosquitoes.
Munzee? Same idea, less hiking, more digital scavenger hunt meets caffeine addiction. It’s like Pokémon Go for people who never fully trusted Pokémon. I’m out there scanning codes like a deranged grocery clerk with no store and no boss. Just vibes.
Now sci-fi. The real stuff. 80s and 90s. Before everything got polished and emotionally complicated. Back when lasers solved problems and nobody stopped mid-battle to unpack childhood trauma. Give me practical effects, synth soundtracks, and plots that barely hold together under duct tape and confidence. That era knew exactly what it was doing. Entertain first. Make sense later. Maybe.
FOSS? Yeah, I’m that person. I like my software the way I like my freedom: open, slightly unstable, and maintained by someone who may or may not be fueled entirely by spite. There’s something deeply satisfying about using tools built by people who just refused to accept how things “should” work. It’s messy. It’s brilliant. It’s occasionally broken at the worst possible time. Feels human.
And dogs. Obviously. The only creatures on this list that actually make sense. No hidden coordinates. No outdated firmware. No existential nonsense. Just loyalty, chaos, and the occasional decision to sprint full speed into something invisible. They’re the baseline. Everything else is just me trying to keep up.
So yeah, those are my topics. Dirt, code, old sci-fi, and animals that probably have better priorities than I do. It’s not a lifestyle. It’s more like a collection of controlled obsessions that somehow keep me functional.
Runs on caffeine, mild irritation, and a borderline unhealthy dependence on tech, automations, and anything that saves time or brainpower. Would rather be camping or geocaching with GPS in hand than dealing with people, but still shows up, optimizes the chaos, and keeps everything running like a system that somehow never crashes.