There are places to live, and places to be. I've never been the best at being able to tell the difference. Assuming that there is a definite, definitive answer to that question. Doubtful, as most things. Like bagged dairy products. Why, Eesti, why?
In any case, the question is ever-expanding. Each new place that is visited presents itself as a possible place for further visits, for inhabitation, or for staying the fuck clear of which. Minneapolis, Minnesota overall is a place to
live. Estonia in general is a place to
live. Tallinn is definitely livable. Russia... visits with long intermediate periods for recovery and restoring your faith in humanity. Sweden, Finland, and other countries along the Baltic are places to visit, but short trial living periods is a fun fantasy. Can I call that a "funtasy"? Sounds dirty enough. I think I will.
And then things become more complicated, like playing Scrabble with a person that is overly intelligent and insufficiently intoxicated (despite your continued attempts to spike his or her drink with increasing potency, enough to flip the balance of their blood-alcohol ratio and make them inhumanly immune to any diseases). Haapsalu, or Hiiumaa, for example. Those places within generally livable Eesti also appear to be well worthy of residence and a round of free beer. Unless you try something, you never know, and will probably regret it later if you don't, and will spend the majority of your week drowning your self-doubt in Smirnoff Ice and cocoa-cream-filled cookies. I know, sounds like a blast.
So, what the hell? Oh, right – complications and the realities of having and building a life. Trends towards lesser mobility (i.e. nesting, or whatever it's called) get in the f'ng way of greater mobility (which, I should mention, is what makes my USB 3G Internet stick (
netipulk) my new favorite inanimate pet). I, for example, now own a refrigerator. It is quiet, energy-efficient, and I spent a hell of a long hour successfully switching the side, from which it opens.
Then, there are people. As I mentioned earlier, Minneapolis is a place to live. The people there are nearly without exception the most open, friendly, loyal, funny, ridiculous, and fantasticulous that I have met in the world (where I've been, by the way). Moving away from that was, and still is no easy thing. Visits back are one thing, but the ability to just
be there with and for those cherished, gooey-love-vomit friends.. yeah, that be another.
Had I the fiscal resources and more mobility (which is generally achieved through the presence of said monetary bling), I'd likely rove extensively. With more fixed destinations, constant returns to certain locations, and undetermined periods of time for each.. all depending on the trade winds of my soul (yeah, man, you know? Like.. yeah..). There are people that I love in Minnesota, in Tallinn, and elsewhere, and physical proximity is a must for.. well, for all of them, but how to elevate one above others? What right and what basis do I have for that? And what about the other possible livables, which always hold possibilities for as-yet undeveloped facets of living? And question mark, question mark – question? Mark? Whenever at a loss, the answer is five. Always. Make the answer form and redefine the question to your whims. Suck it, Trebeck.
Suppose it's precariously organizing a list of places to live and places to be, which constantly enriches and complicates life. Could be worse.
Next up: a rambling (roving?) recount of 300 kilometers by bike with Tuuliki to and entirely around stunning and majorly badass Hiiumaa. It's going to blow your mind, so get nice and liquored up for the read. Also set some coffee brewing, because you'll probably pass out halfway through it, and will need a pick-me-up when you finally scoop your face off of the monitor. That's my style.
FUNTASY.
Edasi..
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