Monday, January 23, 2012


As previously mentioned, I went to Provo last Saturday.

Tell me how you REALLY feel.

I was sitting calmly on the 830, contemplating the lugubrious scene before me (not that Provo is naturally lugubrious, except during finals week at BYU; it was snowing and raining all day).  We went around the corner of 700 North and 400 East.  I used to live very near there, so I looked around, in the hope of kindling a fond memory or two.

Instead, I saw puddles.  Massive, huge, cold, unforgiving, student-hating puddles.  Every place where sidewalk met street was a huge puddle.  A huge puddle that covered the whole sidewalk, and a decent portion of the street.  A huge puddle that even the most able-bodied of busninjas would not be able to skirt around without climbing up the side of a house or sharing a lane of traffic with cars (neither of which I recommend unless you're mentally prepared for it).  There was one on every single corner.

And my tears of joy mingled with the rain, for I no longer live in Provo.

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