No more roadtrips, please.

It is becoming a family tradition that one of my relatives will comment on the people who are from the country that I am going to. Let us not forget my uncle's post-Christmas question: "What will you do when you get back from India, Sara? Open a 7Eleven?"

My grandmother's sister asked where I was going. I said, "Korea," and she said "That's why her toes are yellow." Because, apparently, the Korean people are yellow and so I must have coordinated my nailpolish.

I can't go anywhere in State College without running into someone with whom I graduated; it's odd. Nevertheless, I had a good time hanging out with people I haven't seen in three years, getting caught up on gossip–who converted to Islam and developed a persecution complex, who's getting married, who hasn't changed a bit (aside from increased alcohol consumption) and is just as much fun to hang out with as in high school.

Went to my mother's cousin's surprise wedding shower. She recieved chocolate syrup, a massaging shower head, and a dozen pairs of underpants that had been sewed together so that when she pulled them out of the bag they were like the never-ending magicians scarves only with size seven panties.

Also, despite our years apart, Jack still loves me.

jacklove.jpg

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