Ну, well well.. As usual, I've had the semi-constant urge to put something down here. And following the usual response to that urge, it's slipped away here and there when opportunity comes around. I've felt an (admittedly, sickenly pop-culture, Californication-inspired) increased drive to write more. The next step is logically figuring out something to write about.. a requirement which causes most sense I have to scatter. I suppose sitting down and going at it with no intended purpose is a sufficient alternative, probably one with better results less tinged in the rise and fade of immediate emotion surrounding other whims. I digress.Today hails the six-week-and-counting mark! Incredibly stoked for the return to Minneapolis, and another start at sorting things out for the next few years. The GRE and FSOT await me within a month or two of arrival, and the LSAT if I become bored enough to slog through the preparations (I also fear becoming distracted on my way through Barnes & Noble towards the prep guides). It's exciting in the way that I'm motivated to become motivated. For now, at least.. though it will be something constant that I can resultingly restimulate with a combination of caffeine and alcohol!
Sensing the rerelocation drawing near, I'm also, in theory, taking to seeing and imbibing what's around much more. The pictures on the last post were from the Tallinn Soviet-era prison (which shut down just six years ago.. not sure in which era the conditions were worse) that I'd heard about and had this long-running ambition to scour through. At the entrance, only announced by the massive metal door being open and a small sign out of easy view stating the hours (and the fact that hours change faster than McCain's attempts at insults), a small shack appears which is the ticket booth, at the end of a winding gravel road with no apparent direction. You drop the old (Estonian) ticket lady 30 kroon, and she tells you to check out the execution room on the right and then do everything on the left. That's where the museum guidance ends. Creepy and sort of thrilling experience! The only thing stopping you from going too far (whatever that could mean) is the fact that the particular iron door or bars are welded shut. Random shit is lying around everywhere, old newspapers still stuck to the walls, clothing, books, drawings, dripping ceilings, surgical equipment.. just about everything minus glass cases, lighted rooms (ha ha.. really), and a reassuring atmosphere. One of those unique things that within a year or two will be either replicated high-cost apartments or shut out and left to disintegrate.
The other adventure of late (urges for which also stem from boredom, loneliness and a growing aversion to the near-daily routine of pointless 'work' alternated with making rice) was a spontaneous camping trip to somewhere south of Pärnu, in south-western Eesti. Nothing like starting out the morning with an 80 kroon (around $8.. note the stunning use of detail in the set-up instructions at left) tent purchase from the supermarket, spending the day on a bus and hiking for hours down the coast, almost getting swallowed by mystery death swamp ponds, and finishing out the day with a Baltic Sea (Läänemere - lit. 'West-Sea') view and sausages! Correctly, as my Estonian coworkers pointed out, somewhat crazy and lonely going it alone, though its the only option I really have here along with the fact that doing it that way was satisfying in its own right. My rule is that if you aren't eaten by wild boars or Latvians while doing it solo, bring it on! I'll see how applying that one works out in other life situations as they present 
themselves..I'm holding my fists tight and repeating 'comeonnnn' over and over in anticipation of scoring a car to borrow for a good six days, and driving to the top of the European world in late August on a similar sort of seiklus. Sort of thing that would be really amazing with one or several friends, though central Europe and ocean(s) sort of come in the way of that for now.. which all contributes towards reinforcing the validity of my decision to make it back to the Cities for a very prolonged time!
I feel that I'm reporting a bit too much and edging closer to underlying moaning about this and that.. Probably hamper myself with doggedly sticking to only Eesti keel in developing friendly relations with locals. You would think that taking it on like this would actually turn over more promising experiences and root you more into the scene, though it often is met with an ironic dismissal of you just
being any other person then.. which most likely detracts from chances of a quick-start relationship in an already closed-up culture. I realize, though, that I didn't move here to make friends, and definitely did not uproot in order to be used as a convenient English tutor dropped unexpectedly into locals' lives. The tiring, resounding majority of foreigners living here also make it more of a challenge to break the expat stereotype.. not making an effort at the language, combined with fundamental goals of getting some hot foreign ass (yes, respectable in itself, though the approach usually taken can be somewhat refined..). I'm a bit proud and relieved to be tagged moreso with the 'local' and not 'foreigner' status in comparison, even if it means culturally being brushed aside. Definitely somewhat of a stretch to compare the trend to those of migration (urbanization compared to rural life, or moving to the West compared to the choices here) or marriage (women look resoundingly for contextually old
er men or ones with more opportunities to offer).. though from what I've perceived, many people regard foreigners and most relationships in general in an incredibly opportunistic sense. People make a core group of old school-friends and relationships they stick with and value, and close off afterwards, holding new contacts in the sidelines as they see fit. Again, this is all more or less and sweepingly general, though pervasive. In that sort of light, most is simply what's to be expected given the circumstances.. unfortunate, and probably more difficult in some respects than would be in various other cultures and locations, though the reason for moving here was to take in exactly that as well. Just makes daily ins and outs a bit tiring, as in a way it's the non-stop linguistic business.. at least this time around. Could be the city, could be not tapping into the right scene, could be the language of focus, could be not having enough wine for the evening as of yet. All in all just continues 
to be interesting in its own interpretation, as you delve deeper and search out the variations. Поехали..With semi-constancy in applying myself to writing, I'll hopefully get farther away from the reporting and moaning in following posts here! Though the words probably ring in emptiness as I raise a pint and my condolences to those who have for whatever reason even made it this far in me bantering blandly and pressingly this round.. Еще вино! More Dosh!
Axx.. Soon into refreshing scenes, dark pints and Minnesota skies.. Boardgames and lakes, friends, skylines and a possibility for mixing work with exploration of multilingual Slavic undercurrents of the Cities!! I'll expand on that spicy one in short time..
Edasi.. Вперёд..
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