so heaven, it seems, is in west virginia.

three of my girlfriends and i embarked on a weekend away in a cabin in the west virginia wilderness, not too far from where i grew up. it’s a five hour drive from central new jersey to west virginia and generally this would make for one heck of a long trip for less than two days of vacation, but truly, when you get there, time melts away, one’s mind clears, and it’s just…heaven.

some highlights if you’re interested in what heaven’s like before you get there:

it’s not a sure bet that you’ll start a grill with ease. you can spend, oh, a good hour at least trying to light moist charcoal in a grill. and it may take not only lighter fluid and quick-light charcoal, but also chanting and circling the fire asking for help from the fire gods, to get the fire started. but by golly, by gosh, you’ll got that sucker going, and two or more hours later you too can eat like kings and queens.

you can start a campfire without a match or even a flame. just dump hot coals into woodpile, and blow like the dickens. yes, you may nearly pass out, but it will feel like you’ve invented the concept of fire when the deed’s been done.

bananagrams can become the most competitive sport you’ve ever played. especially without a dictionary or internet access to back you up on some words. like in the case of a friend, “avon” (so totally not a regular noun), and in the case of oneself, “em” (as in the letter ‘m’. totally in the dictionary). heaven should really get wifi. or a dictionary.

you can break your toe. strange right? heaven shouldn’t allow this sort of thing. but i think they let it happen because it’s so nice there, you don’t even notice.

when leaving heaven, strange notices are given to people. like this one at a gas pump. i can’t even begin to understand the lawsuit, or really the ridiculous lawyer that took AND THEN WON THE CASE, that deemed this sign necessary.

gas sign

i can’t wait to go back.