>Ah, the Poconos. Not too much has changed there since the 1970s. It's good times.

Steph and I cruised around randomly for awhile after I checked out her cute little house in the woods and my eyes nearly fell out of my head after her cat stuck his face in mine. We decided to stop at Bushkill Falls, billed as "The Niagara of Pennsylvania." (I picture the park owners puffing up with pride when they say this.) Turns out that after you escape the parking lot full of fudge shops, Indian trinkets, and crap souvenirs, there are wonderful hiking trails around the waterfalls and in the forest. Thanks to the impromptu nature of our visit, we had neither proper shoes (well, I had gym shoes) or socks, insect spray, or sunscreen.

Steph glided over the rocks and the tree trunks in her flip flops, while I tripped over every single object. I was glad that I wasn't wearing my clogs or I definitely would have broken my ankle and/or fallen into the waterfall and cracked my skull open. Regardless, we had a great time trekking and will definitely go back another time.

That mostly sums up my trip to the Poconos, minus the gross overeating and stopping at sad little shops in the area. Husband, on the other hand, spent the weekend on the Jersey shore in a boarding house for a lame bachelor "party" that included a guido bar and an "antiseptic" (his word) strip club that didn't have a liquor license. Oh, I laugh and laugh.
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On another note, thanks for all the bathing suit support and commiseration.

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