If you follow me on social media, than you probably already know that I am going out for the Sports Illustrated Swimsuit Edition this year. This decision is pretty random for me. Until Beyonce was on the cover, there were very few curvy women associated with the magazine. Following Beyonce, we had the Ashley Graham cover, and since then, Sports Illustrated completely shifted their usual type to include all shapes, sizes, and colors. My good friend from Russia, Katya Zharkova

It calls to me like a scorned lover. Every time I see it's silhouette, my heart stretches with a deep longing, and pangs with a sense of weakness. The city is a companion to the lonely, a lover to the loveless. It is oxygen and blood, grit and glue. It sticks to the marrow and seeps into the dark places where you hide from yourself. It knows your deepest desires, ones that you've hidden even from yourself. The city twists and tantalizes, constantly evolving to rise up and mee

I can almost hear the mosques singing the call to prayer now. To anyone who wasn't raised in a muslim country, the sound is at first disarming, as I'm sure church bells banging around is to people from those countries. In every movie about the Middle East, you hear this song. It is a passionate cry, ringing out from delicate minarets perched high above the city. It is frightening at first. You can almost feel soldier's boots drumming on the streets outside, but Istanbul is no