West Virginia, Wild and Wonderful

I spent the weekend in Morgantown, West Virginia hanging out with several Peace Corps friends and spouses, and it was a fantastic time. We fell quickly back into old patterns: staying up late, playing (or listening to, in my case) music, drinking, smoking(not all of us), telling stories about diarrhea, and laughing, but this time around, we added a little Appalachian flair. We only left the house once. Here are the photos.

I picked up my friend Dan in New York City, and we stopped for lunch at this diner somewhere in central Pennsylvania. Chicken Lickin'!

The evening's entertainment:

A late-night photo of the Nicaragua Five:

On Saturday, our host Jeff gave us a little lesson in local culture by teaching us a new game, Nails. All you need is a tree stump, some nails, and a hammer. And beer. Everyone sticks their designated nail into the stump, and the object is to hammer other people's nails flush into the wood. You earn one whack by flipping the hammer in the air and catching it, two by tossing it under a leg, and three by throwing it behind your back. The tricky part is that you're not allowed to line up- you have to start your swing with the hammer raised above your shoulder. Oh, and you have to have a beer in your hand both during the hammer toss and the swing. Some action photos:

Here are pictures from our big excursion to Mario's Fishbowl (which was awesome, so if you're ever in Morgantown, check it out):

After drinking a fishbowl, I made a very unwise decision. You know how in certain townie bars, there's a jar of pickled eggs sitting on the counter? And every time you see it, you wonder what kind of idiot would actually eat something from that jar? Well, now you know. My friend John dared me to eat one. Then, he double dog dared me, and said that he would eat one, too. I couldn't refuse. My womanhood was a stake (okay not really). The worst part was that he insisted that we eat the eggs in one single bite. Here's the photo series (Not Safe For The Faint of Stomach). I mean, just look at that jar; isn't it inviting? I love how an egg costs $0.65. No, not $0.50, or $0.75; these puppies go for exactly 65. And you ask why they are pink? Two words: beet juice.

In that last shot I am definitely on the verge of vomit.

After the Fishbowl, we headed back to the homestead, where a festival of meat awaited us. A fellow Peace Corps volunteer from our group who was featured on NPR this year shipped us a bunch of products from his farm in Illinois.

In the end, I had a fantastic time relaxing and catching up with old friends. I learned two things this weekend. 1. Traffic the Sunday after Thanksgiving is as bad as they say, and 2. If there's ever a contest for Best Song Lyric Ever, they might as well change it to Second Best Song Lyric Ever, because "I'd sure like to check you for ticks." already won first place.