in transit, nyc tonight (IN SHA LLAH!)

well, i'm at the istanbul airport at some god awful time in the morning. this is the first leg of my trip back home to see family, etc. i love this airport. for me, the istanbul airport is super futuristic: they have WIFI, cold beer on tap, and salads that don't use mayonaise as a dressing. yes, i'm now living it up, but woah and behold...this is merely the airport. i couldn't be more excited to go home, but i know i'm going to be in culture shock for a bit. i don't know what that is going to look and feel like. part of the culture shock, inevitably, is going to stem from my being a volunteer for 2 years. in other words, part of the PC experience is being poor. In nyc people have money. a lot of money. and they spend it all the time on a lot of things. i remember the normalcy of it....and it is normal. its just....well, i'm going to be comparing prices in my head. hard to avoid.
but clothes will be cheaper! yes!
chris, my boyfriend pcv i've never spoken about on this blog before (ahem...clearing throat), is coming with me and i'm really greatful for this. because chris will be there, i won't be experiencing all the culture clash alone. pcvs are warned time and time again that when we go home we need to expect people to have very litte interest in what we've done the past 2 years. well, if we can't talk about the last two years of our life, then what can we talk about? that sort of frustration will be softed by having someone there who understands. but chris is flying through dubai right now.
anyways. what a ramble. i lost my camera back in georgia so i'll be buying one in the US. also, i wrote an article about making art for an Azerbaijani publication. I'll post that too.
on a side note, airports are crazy. you can watch worlds collide for hours at a time. its interesting seeing western women feeling comfortable in their own skin. i noticed this and then realized this was noticable to me because i have NOT felt comfortable in my western skin for so long. as a westerner i always stick and i'm always doing something inappropriate as a woman. the oppressive force of that feeling has actually changed me and now allows me to notice woman being free as a opposed to afraid to show a bra strap. oh america, i'm ready. here i come. but i know in america i'll probably be shocked by half naked teenagers running around from bar to bar. whatever, a change is good.