By Laura Hinkle If you had asked me about this expression a year ago, I would have laughed and told you that I might go to Rome for some ritzy weekend in my 20’s, but that’d definitely be it. However, through an incredibly unexpected (and now that it’s behind me, sad but also so crazy it strikes me as funny) turn of events, I needed to leave the Italian family I was au pairing for this summer in Milan. What was supposed to have been a three-month gig ended with me booking a train ticket to Rome after a mere nine days, frantically packing up my belongings in the middle of the night, and running through crowded streets with my pink and purple suitcase, muttering desperate prayers under my breath that the parents wouldn’t catch me or come after me. I barely caught my train out of the city in time, and almost missed my layover because I had to switch platforms last minute. Honestly, it’s a miracle that I, lacking street smarts and having little experience with public transportat...
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