What a crazy few days it's been. Friday, after being exhausted from our graduation celebration, Bobby insisted that we go to one of the stages for the Tour of Utah. It actually turned out to be a lot of fun, seeing as how I managed to squirm away with a cowbell and motivation to get on my bike more (um, the pros manage 30+ mph for over an hour on a flat, and I'm lucky to keep my average speed at 15), but the coolest part was definitely meeting this guy:
Yeah, he definitely told me in French that I have a pretty smile. This was after he almost swore in French and I mentioned that I took a few classes in that language. Unfortunately, they don't teach us swear words (even at KU), so I wouldn't have had the slightest clue that he was being profane. Bobby got a picture with him, and it was neat being able to put a person to the book Bobby's been reading (Tour de Life).
Saturday morning we got our butts out of bed long before I would have enjoyed (since graduation, I've decided to catch up on all the sleep I didn't get in the past four years) to bike up Sundance. I whined a lot, because we sold my mountain bike because I had decided biking up mountains wasn't fun. What the devil was I biking up this one for? Well, Bobby wanted to watch the fourth stage of the Tour of Utah, which was a climbing stage, and the further up the mountain we were, the better idea we could get of who was going to be King of the Mountain. I whined, and I cried, begging Bobby to please stop before we got to the Sundance sign, and after yelling at each other for a bit, I saw the sign and took off in a sprint. I went from going 4 mph to 12, which was pretty awesome on my part, especially since it means I smoked Bobby. He then yelled at me and accused me of faking being tired. I'm a sprinter, suckah.
Last evening, I received a text from our dog trainer suggesting an impromptu puppy play date. I never turn those down, especially since Peli loves playing with other dogs so much, and I thoroughly enjoy our trainer. After playing for a while, I started talking with Stacie (trainer extraordinaire) about how I was contemplating becoming a dog trainer at Petsmart. She complains constantly about the other trainers who are constantly getting fired or quitting without notice, and I joked about how I should just apply there instead of continuing the dreaded job hunt I've been on since the week prior to graduation (I know, a week and a half, wah me). She told me to apply, and that I would only have to work evenings, and that since she's the one doing the interviews, I'd be hired. This is fantastic because once we move back to Kansas, I need a job I can work that doesn't conflict with classes and internship during the day. Dog training is a few hours in the evening, and will contribute to the money we're going to give to Bobby's mom for food and for putting up with us. I hope it works out.
Today, Bobby again stirred my sleeping body earlier than I would have liked to go on a bike ride. We were going to bike around West Mountain and back, which totals to a little over sixty miles. I was pumped and ready to go, chatting away with Bobby, when about seven miles into the ride, I had a blow out. Not a big deal, since Bobby had a tube and a CO2 cartridge, but he voiced some concerns with it being that early in the ride, and we were left with no tube in case of a flat. The next twenty miles were pretty uneventful, until we were attacked by a plague of grasshoppers. I've discovered that I do not enjoy bugs touching me, and when we're biking at 15-20 mph, it's unbelievably unbearable. At about 30 miles into the ride, where we were so far from civilization that I had no service on my cell phone, Bobby discovered his tire was flat. We saw another cyclist shortly after, and while he had an extra tube to give us (cyclists are so nice!), we had no means for putting air into it. Fortunately, we had rolled far enough along to get cell phone service again, and our landlord was prompted to call us to see if he could go with us to Seven Peaks water park later that day. We were out in the middle of no-where, Payson, Utah, and he hopped into his truck and drove out, found us on a total whim, and rescued us from our flattened fate. He's pretty much the superhero of the day.
Life post-graduation is pretty splendid, what with all the additional sleeping and minimal responsibilities, but finding a job is a lot more stressful than I anticipated. I've had two job interviews so far, and the first one was terrible (they thrust me into a room full of eight people with clipboards, staring at me, asking the WEIRDEST questions) and I understood why I didn't get the job (it was at a mental hospital, and I'm sure they were contemplating admitting me instead). The second one, though, was at my internship, and they gave it to someone who deserved the job a lot more than I did. He'd worked there for a while as a human service worker, which included working the hours of 4 pm to midnight full time at a little over $9/hour. I was offered his position instead. I would feel a little weird about taking a job like that when I was a case manager there just a couple weeks ago, so I've opted to continue my search elsewhere. Fortunately, through my addiction to craigslist, I found a posting for a position at a domestic violence shelter looking for an aftercare social service worker. I don't know what the hours are or what the pay is, but I loved being at WTCS for a year and would feel good about helping survivors of domestic violence again.
So... wish me luck. If this doesn't go through, maybe I can sell an ovary or something. And in case you were wondering, Peli has her click-a-trick graduation on Wednesday, so feel free to send congratulation cards to her for all of her adorable accomplishments.
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