counting the cars on the new jersey turnpike, they've all gone to look for america. if i were to search for america, i would look in the glove compartment. in addition to america, i would find ketchup packets and napkins stolen and folded into purses in any fast food restaurant any member of my family has ever frequented. this, of course, excludes my father. he doesn't have a purse into which to fold napkins. he does, however, have a priest collar and an addiction to risk, the board game, as opposed to risk the threat of danger. although he might have that too. he runs the risk of making a pun in nearly every sentence he speaks.

it's my sister's birthday today. she's in china, and none of her friends there know it's her birthday. this makes me mad. nobody should be subjected to lonely chopsticks on their birthday.

it's my other sister's birthday tomorrow. she's four years older than rachel. it's lucky that their birthdays are so close. this increases the chance that my wallet will be lighter this week. phew. i hate heavy wallets.