I know that you guys are thinking, "But this blog title makes no sense! Missy can't run, she has asthma and is really lazy." Guys...seriously. "Running" doesn't always involve marathon training and heavy breathing. I mean that.
So, every once in a while I get an itch. A really bad one. And I realize, suddenly, that I can't stand where I am and that I have to get out--pronto. Such itching has sparked spontaneous trips to Zion, California, Salt Lake, and my studio. I can't stand itches. They make me run away to places I don't plan on visiting and do things I never thought i would. In retrospect running is fun, but it is habit-forming and sometimes causes bad results (ex: me running away from countless relationships/potential relationships with no reason at all and never talking to people again). Oh well.
So...to make a really awkward transition, I just want to mention that I ran away the past two summers and I'm doing it again. But before I (don't really) tell you where I'm going I'm going to share pictures from the past two summers...
I ran away from Mr. McFriggity in Florence after he showed me about twenty pictures he had taken OF ME throughout the night...
After lots and lots of painting we ran away to this little village that one of our professors' wives found in Vogue. Utterly romantic (he only has one wife, that looks weird to me).
We ran all around Venice. And I ran to the bathroom when the nice gelato man gave me Tirimasu gelato instead of Nocciola...
We ran home after "swimming" in the Mediterranean...Krista had a bunch of sea urchins stuck in her foot so we did a collaborative surgery on her for a few hours that night.
I wanted to run away to Italy forever after this night in Florence (and coincidentally decided not to stay for the job in Milan a few days later...)
I ran down about 1,000 stairs after taking this picture on top of the Duomo.
(I actually did RUN past the Arno many mornings, thankyouverymuch.)
Robyn and I ran all over Florence this day and were late to class because we got soooo lost.
I ran over Cesar (I told him I would step on his feet if we did the Tango). Does anyone recognize that skirt?
I ran around la casa de la familia Cervantes Cardenas the whole time we were in Obregon.
I wanted to run away with these children but since they were already in an orphanage I decided to spare them more psychological damage.
I ran around la casa de la familia Cervantes Cardenas with these children. Some of the sweetest I have ever met, and their baby Spanish is one of the most beautiful things I have ever heard.
And now I'm running away again (no, not from a relationship).
Does anyone know what city this is?