It's been a roller-coaster of a week, I'll say. I have gone through what probably is the widest range of emotions someone could have in just a week! You guys must be exhausted just reading about me (and you don't know some of the things I didn't report!). I feel overwhelmed. To add to the situation, whenever I get really sad, I start getting nostalgic and homesick for Tehran. Bia o dorostesh kon! I wander its streets and roads in my daydreams, and dream about being in Tehran in my sleep. This is Modarres Freeway or Parkway in Tehran. It starts in Haft-e-Tir Square in Central Tehran and runs all the way to Northern Tehran. It is the second oldest freeway in Tehran, so the shrubbery and the trees lining it are mature and lush and gorgeous. It is a road I used to take home from work everyday. On smug-free days like the one in the picture, you can see the mountains located to the North of Tehran. I miss my Tehran today, on top of all the other things going on around me. Right now, all I want to do is to take this freeway South and go down to Jomhouri Avenue, get lost in the crowds and the loud traffic of it, find my way to Pirashki Khosravi, have a pirashki (or two) with a bitter turkish coffee, the like of which no one else makes in the world. The store is now owned by an Armenian family, though there are pictures inside of the man named "Khosravi" and his Armenian staff in the 1950's and 1960's. There are no chairs for you to sit at Pirashki Khosravi. You must eat standing up and leave, though no one ever rushes you to leave. You can stay if you want and watch the hundreds of different people who come in every hour. I have done this so many times--just standing there in that small shop, watching people come and go. I miss it today, my city.