Andy Weir

So what__ the point of it all?___eriously?_ I asked. __eriously? You__e asking me for the meaning of life? Isn__ that a little stereotypical?___ell it__ a reasonable question,_ you persisted.

I'm calling it the Watney Triangle because after what I've been through, shit on Mars should be named after me.

Actually, I was the very lowest ranked member of the crew. I would only be __n command_ if I were the only remaining person.__hat do you know? I__ in command

If ruining the only religious icon I have leaves me vulnerable to Martian vampires, I'll have to risk it.

As with most of life's problems, this one can be solved by a box of pure radiation.

Turns out even NASA can't improve on duct tape.

WATNEY: Look! A pair of boobs! -> (.Y.).

Problem is (follow me closely here, the science is pretty complicated), if I cut a hole in the Hab, the air won't stay inside anymore.

How did I end up in this situation? I'm the district sales manager of a napkin factor. Why is my daughter in space?

Log Entry: SOL 118My conversation with NASA about the Water Reclaimer was boring and riddled with technical details. So I'll paraphrase for you:Me: "This is obviously a clog. How about I take it apart and check the internal tubing?"NASA: (After about 5 hours of deliberation) "No. You'll fuck it up and die."So I took it apart.

Back in the days of Apollo, sending humans to the moon was the only viable way to get the scientific data we wanted. But now, with our computer and robotics technology, there's very little an astronaut can do on Mars that a well-designed rover can't.

If someone offered me a free trip to the International Space Station, I would decline. I like Earth. I like the internet. I like Diet Coke. I have cats. I write about brave people - I'm not one of them.

Designing a station with artificial gravity would undoubtedly be a daunting task. Space agencies would have to re-examine many reliable technologies under the light of the new forces these tools would have to endure. Space flight would have to take several steps back before moving forward again.

One thing I have in abundance here are bags. They're not much different than kitchen trash bags, though I'm sure they cost $50,000 because of NASA.

Mars is not Earth. It doesn't have a thick atmosphere to bend light and carry particles that reflect light around corners. It's damn near a vacuum here. Once the sun isn't visible, I'm in the dark. Phobos gives me some moonlight, but not enough to work with. Deimos is a little piece of crap that's no good to anyone.

If I could have anything, it would be a radio to ask NASA the safe path down the Ramp. Well, if I could have anything, it would be for the green-skinned yet beautiful Queen of Mars to rescue me so she can learn more about this Earth thing called __ovemaking.

Also, I'll lose half a liter of water per day to breathing until the humidity in the Hab reaches its maximum and water starts condensing on every surface. Then I'll be licking the walls. Yay.

I stumbled up the hill back toward the Hab. As I crested the rise, I saw something that made me very happy and something that made me very sad: The Hab was intact (yay!) and the MAV was gone (boo!).