My last post was long enough already, so I'll talk about my experience in the new place here.

Photographs would be in place here, but I'm not in the mood to make them. You'll see everything in a #russiabynatives post I'm planning for this week, a bit of guide around Tomsk.

My new apartment is as old-fashioned as the last one. The furniture is not the same but is equally old: sturdy enough but retro for about forty years. I like it that way. It's quite comfortable, even though it has some quirks. It's not overstuffed, though I would rather get a place with less stuff, other things being equal. It's also outfitted with a giant-ass cast iron radiator which, the owners promise, will make my winter very, very warm. It's right by my bed. I'm moving the bed before the early winter kicks in.

It has a cool wide table where a lot of things fit, like: laptop, wide mousepad, watch, notebook, lamp, external HDD and several plates, and there's still space left. The table itself has two mirrors of different size by the wall; I see myself as I write this. A couple of years ago I would've taken them away because they'd make me look at myself, and that, for me back then, was a cringe-worthy sight. Now, though, I catch a glimpse of myself quite often there, especially when I do some silly dance over whatever's playing in the headphones. I like having the mirrors. They let me look at myself and see that I'm fine, which is much better than the things I used to think of my appearance before. I see that I look alright, and it makes me all the more confident.

I took the TV away at the first opportunity: it took a lot of space (which I repurposed for the printer/scanner) and would've seen no use from me. As soon as I get my tools, I'll start optimizing the place's physical performance.

The previous apartment's windows looked right over one of two of Tomsk's main vehicular arteries. It was noisy by day and almost quite by night. I liked it that way: it's very urban. I thought I'd miss it, the new apartment being a couple dozen meters away from the road now, but I turns out I'm fine. I do miss the Sun lighting up the apartment the way it did before, though. It was beautiful and energizing.

The stadium I used to run at is now a bit more of a walk, which, in head, turns into a big block when I wake up early enough to do the run. The White Lake, a good spot to run, is undergoing reconstruction until next study year. Bummer. So, I barely run these days: feels like I have no place for it, now, even though the stadium is just fifty more meters away. Silly how that goes.

Mosquitos are a menace here: my arms are all red from the bites. Not sexy. I take some common medicine to counter the itch, but I still have to keep the windows closed at night, which may contribute to groggy mornings. I don't like that, having come here with the desire to change things, but either that or I'm as ugly as a hunchback - a bloody one, considering that I'm a masochist to a degree. Thinking of employing some anti-mosquito radiator.

Funny bit: my windows overlook the parking of a Russian car dealership. It's quiet and, to a degree, industrial. Oh, and the giant radio relay tower - it's now in my sights, day and night. Man it's huge.

Things are slowly moving better. Thinking about it inspires me to do more change. It's good to have Pubski to verbalize this stuff. Helps me find that things are good.