It looks like a fist.

But it's not.

For the past week or so, I haven't been counting days--I've been counting classes.  The advantage is that on Mondays and Wednesdays, I'm able to count down two instead of just one.
The disadvantage, of course, is that I spent five days staring at three fingers.
But no longer!  That fist is one of victory, and also indicates I don't have any more classes.  I fly home early Friday morning (6:00 early), and I'm not planning on going to bed at all Thursday night.  Consider it a preemptive strike against jet lag.

Things I will miss about Istanbul
-The baklava.  Both walnut and pistachio.
-Having a few hours free and going to see the Archeology Museum, or something equally cool.
-The Ayasofya.
-People watching.
-The fruit.
-Çai.
-Nargele.
-The cats in the garden.
-Pilaf.
-Public transportation.
-Sultanahmet Camii.
-Reading a placard that says "1750" and thinking "that's not old."
-The call to prayer.
-Simit.
-FETA.
-Stained glass windows.
-Seeing Istiklal lit up at night.
-The domes and minarets.
-Painted tiles.
-Three-story Starbucks.
-Mosaics.
-Seeing the Theodosian walls on my way to school.
-The architecture in general.

Things I will not miss about Istanbul
-Spending an hour one way to get to school.
-Not being able to differentiate between 5 and 10 kuruş coins.
-The lack of English bookstores.
-Having a window that looks out on the street...when the street is at the level of my shoulders.
-The notorious lack of answered email.
-Public transportation.
-10-hour time difference.
-Unreliable water pressure, water heat, and water.
-Not having to struggle to understand basic signs.
-Creepy come-ons in the Grand Bazaar.
-Red tape.
-The ants in the kitchen.  No matter what I do, they keep coming back.


I've also been doing a lot of last-minute sightseeing, since that gets put on the back shelf when you think you're going to be in the same place for a year.  I'll put the photos up soon.  There are lots (surprise).

m.

Gusses

I suppose what makes all of this so strange--and all the more terrifying--is that, in a sense, I've done it before.

Okay, not exactly.

But in some ways, it's the same.

I go away every year to school--and in some ways, Iowa is a foreign country. Every year about this time, I leave most of what's familiar behind for four months.

Yeah. Sounds about right.

I guess this is the time when I'm supposed to say "it's official" or something along those lines, but it's been official for months now. I committed myself to this about 3.62 minutes after I first heard about it from Abby. So there isn't any of that; none of it would be fair to say. There's just excitement and terror.

My old high school, Tacoma School of the Arts (more affectionately and commonly known as SOTA), started classes this week, so I went back to see some of my old teachers. I think this may have something to do with overwhelming preemptive nostalgia I'm feeling. I miss SOTA. I know that's a strange thing to say about my high school, but it was a unique place. Today, I heard part of Savage's lecture on the link between mortality and moderation, Shepherd's class discussing the origins of the Greek gods, and sat in on Mary explaining six-word-autobiogaphys. Like I said, unique.

As much as I love Coe and as much of a new situation it's forced me into, I have to be honest: SOTA was first.

m.