Hot springs

So pretty much every minute of spare time in the week is spent studying, reading, reviewing and studying. Between class and work I rarely even have time to eat. The cumulative effects of such a schedule transform you into a robotic zombie with bloodshot eyes and a constant humming in the back of your mind. It really helps you appreciate the weekend so much more.

Two weekends ago I was determined to spend my time in productive endeavors. Friday night we went to P.F. Chang's with the intention of only purchasing the delectable lettuce wraps, the appetizer that P.F.Chang's exists to serve. We were also enticed by the chocolate wall of cake, which proved to be much more than we were prepared to consume. Our crew was a pretty random assortment of people. One of the best coincidences was the awkward discovery that the half-British girl's brother served in Ukraine with me and Fisher, and he happened to be the most loathed missionary there. Of course we didn't tell her that.

After P.F. Chang's we spent a good 2 hours driving up and down Provo Canyon in search of the mystical Homestead hot springs. After flipping at least 6 U-turns we finally chanced upon the right turn and found ourselves driving through a Midvale suburbian hell. We found the hot springs encircled by a growing subdivision and pulled off onto the dirt road. It was pretty dark outside so we kinda just followed the sounds of giggling and banter until we arrived at the legendary pond. Our hot springs were occupied with other college students but they were more than willing to share the space in the natural jacuzzi. They were even kind enough to explain where the dangerously hot parts were located and directed us to where we could sit down on submerged concrete slabs.

We spent an hour or so discussing important matters like "the Office" and the ratio of sulphur to animal feces in the pond sediment. After a lot of immature splashing and an enormous group of newcomers we decided it was time to go and hit the road. We went back to my place and put on V is for Vendetta, but it was already much too late and soon it was 5 a.m. and Andrew was waking me up so he could sleep on the couch.`