What I’ll miss: Late night dance parties
Scene: Sunday night/early Monday morning. It’s past midnight, so it’s no longer the Sabbath. Someone plugs in an iPod and the opening piano chords to Journey’s “Don’t Stop Believin'” drive the beat, and all of a sudden everyone knows it’s time for a singalong dance party. We bust out the Wii guitars and airjam like it’s the 80s, when the men had way bigger hair than the women and didn’t care about the consequences of way-too-tight pants. I, too, have taken the midnight train going anywhere. The streetlight people knowingly nod. They understand.

Then, if that doesn’t convince you, that’s because you need a better sense of who you are. Did you forget your name? Did someone else? Convenient that the Ting Tings’s “That’s Not My Name” is the very next song. It’s late at night. We might be a little delirious, but still a lot hyper (some more than others), and if you’re not singing along, or even dancing? You’re dead inside. And I feel sorry for you.

These won’t be as fun in Provo. I have a feeling.

What I won’t miss: Drag racers and jackhammers
The drag racers usually come after midnight. The jackhammers tend to start around 7am. I don’t sleep very well to begin with, but I figure the rest of the city could use some decent sleep. Seriously.