Itchy feet.

what a term. when your feet really itch, do they want to move? no, more likely your hands will want to move down to soothe them. but no matter. Point is: lately i have been experiencing the itchy feet that make you want to tiptoe around the world and back again. Or just sprint. Whatever pace, you want to go go go go.

I suppose it's all deeply rooted in my psyche, or some such garbage -- because i grew up abroad. And now I'm just a broad.
Living in Toronto and seemingly stuck here forever and ever amen. During my childhood it was totally normal to experience the exotic - and of course i took it for granted, large and in charge.

Passed Gorky park every day on my way to school. Prom pictures in Red Square. Weekend school trips to Vienna and Geneva. Ah, the tough life of a diplo-brat.

now i just watch everyone i know book trips and ships and airplanes. it's time to take these itchy feet somewhere.

ideally, we'd start in Helsinki. a deliciously cool city full of un-bottled blondes in black. Then the night train would whisk (or chug chug chug) us to St petersburg, where we'd touch down for days of fun running across little canals and staring at magnificent buildings and gazing in awe at the wonders in the Russian museum. But ultimately ultimately ultimately, we'd give in to the pull of the real destination - Moscow moscou Mockba.



And there we would drink five dollar champagnesky in the park, smoke Opal cigarettes, wander through the markets, dilly dally in the metros, buy pirated cds from shady street vendors, dance at crappy and vaguely threatening bars, chit chat with ex-pats, hit the old Tretyakov, the new Tretyakov, the Pushkin, the everything.

And now with my new appreciation, Red Square would be magnificent, not a backdrop to my adolescent formal wear.

Now, the question is, can these itchy feet keep me walking away from every store in town so i can save the money to go?