ragged on the edges girl...

I heart you New York, but some weekends there's nothing I crave more than a city break.

This holiday weekend I traded up for the wide open spaces of Central Pennsylvania. A friend invited me to a hunting cabin tucked deep into the PA backwoods- five hours away from New York where cell phones, Internet, television and all reminders of my buzzing city life cease to exist. Riding up the mountain we hung our heads out the windows of the car like dogs sucking in the fresh air we didnt realize we missed.

Our plans for three days: throwin' horseshoes, shootin' guns, ridin' four wheelers and grillin' steaks...all set to the honky croons of Toby Keith, Kenny Chesney and company (songs I've memorized by osmosis growing up in Florida). I wore jorts, sipped Miller Lites and let my legs get muddy, a world away from my fancy pants day job.

At night, huddled around a fire, the sky burst with stars I never get to see. Leaned back in camp chairs with leg rests and cup holders, we counted shooting stars (I wished on two) as the moon rose over the trees.

I forgot the day and time, the Blackberry and bridezillas (it's turkey hunting season at the cabin but wedding season back at work).

Back in the city Monday nothing was still. At night, I couldn't count a single star. I still heart you New York and your hustle and bustle, but sometimes you're just a little too much.