didn't even touch nyc...

and that's a damn shame.
As my year of a nomad comes to an end, it's easy to reflect and say.. wow, amazing; however, it's also easy to say that it wasn't easy. Language barriers, culture clashes, the suicide of a friend across the globe, low funding, missed opportunities, a couple bad grades, an apartment break in, lost friends... I discussed with a close friend after my return from europe the inevitable event of people asking you "how it was." As any person who has ever studied abroad or even simply traveled can tell you, it's damn near impossible to tell anyone How It Was. You're asking me to summarize the past four months of my life in the time that your attention will be paid to me. That's impossible. How do I describe the feeling of the terra cotta tiles or the dusty plaster paint in my italian apartment, how can I summarize the countless endless conversations with my roommate on the stoop, the smells, the heat, the taste of the water, the sounds, the comfort of the people who went as friends, and came back as family. Sounds so terribly cliché, but it's impossible to describe.
As I traveled around the globe, I gained parts of me I didn't know I needed, I lost parts of me I thought I'd never shake, I smelled things I'd hoped never to smell, I touched garments that cost more than cars, I brushed shoulders with people most can't dream of. At times I felt as though I didn't deserve to be doing what I was: I didn't always recognize the designers, or the celebrities, I felt guilt that my parents footed the bill; but the amount that I changed can't be quantified.
I have a different understanding, one that is completely unique, unrivaled, even by my fellow "year abroad"-ers, who each also have unique, beautiful changes. We bond in our differences.
When you know that you won't have a permanent Home for a year, you have to make every place you go Home. Where ever I'm sleeping that night is my home. I'm able to feel At Home anywhere, give me a blanket and a pillow, fresh undies and a glass of wine and I'll sleep anywhere. The ability to live your life a liquid, to fill whatever space you're given, is a feat. (Some might take that the wrong way- you should always try to be more than what you're given, you should always try to expand, I mean this to not be so rigid that you can't see the shape of different containers. It may also be metaphorically interesting to note that liquids do tend to leak out of their containers from time to time...)

xo