The Void and Neztra

I am playing catch up. Can you tell? Watch, after this post, there will be no new ones for another month. Hopefully though, I'll have something interesting to tell you in a couple of days.

So, I bought an elliptical machine. Yes, that's right,

I...voluntarily...bought....a.....torture....device.

Why you ask? Well, anyone who knows me personally would never, ever ask that question. One glance at my rapidly expanding ass (sort of like how the universe is constantly expanding...only my ass is expanding on a more exponential level than even the great universe) is enough said.

I'm 30! I have got to get myself in shape. Now is the time in a person's life when the doctor starts to say things like "cholesterol too high" and "blood pressure to high" and "bottom not high enough". Or maybe my best friends are saying that last one. Anyway, I value their opinion as much as a doctor, so, it is worth stating.

So, I buy this elliptical machine. Nordic Trac, $750. Yes, I paid out my huge bum for this thing. So I had better use it I suppose.

The first night, I put it together with the help of my father. Or maybe he put it together with my help. Eh, he's not writing this blog, so I'll state it my way. See the first sentence in this paragraph. Anyway, they should have said in the instructions, "Putting this big beast together is equal to your first work out in the amount of muscle pain and stubbed toes it will cause you to experience."

The next morning, I awoke to watch the sun rise, glinting off the cold black steel frame and I had to repress a terrified shudder. Oh no! Now I had to actually use it. This sucks.

And it did. It sucked for a whole ten minutes. No really, that's about all I could do the first day. I'll just wait while you finish with your hyena-like laughs, and are able to gasp in some actual usable air again. OK, you done?

Yes, ten whole minutes. I dismounted from the Sadistic Stallion of Shame on wobbly knees and ankles and huffed my way into the kitchen for a nice, cold glass of Riesling. Uh huh, seriously.

The next day was better. I lasted fifteen minutes!

The day after that, I gave my screeching calves and bum a rest.

The next day, I rode the Smug Steed for fifteen minutes at level 5 resistance. Woohoo! I'm doing better!

Today, I was able to get through fifteen real minutes of working out without feeling like I was going to have a coronary right there on the machine. Oh happy day.

Maybe next week I will have worked my way up to a truly staggering twenty minutes.

On another note, I have more good news. I know! Can you stand it? I am really on cloud nine right now.

I finally, after two months of job hunting all over the greater Dallas area, was hired by an excellent company right here in Duncanville.

There must be something I am missing. The people are incredibly nice, down-to-earth and fun to be around. The work is interesting and challenging, in a good way. The salary is great, and my commute to work is exactly 1.52 miles. On back roads no less!

I really think sometimes God just takes a spiritual brick and smacks a big 'ol cosmic crater into the center of your forehead to make you stand up and pay attention to Him guiding our lives. I knew, from the moment I left that office on the day of my interview, that it was the perfect job for me.

It took two weeks for them to call me back. I was on pins and needles, and a neurotic mess. After they called to tell me that they wanted to hire me, I was elated and all that worrying just slipped away. I wish I had the faith then to give my worrying up to Him. I'm just woefully flawed. I know I say that all the time, but honestly, it is the truth. I am an incredibly flawed human being, but apparently, still worth looking after, which is a bit of a relief.

Reading back over my last post, it is hard to believe I was ever in such a sorry emotional state. Life has truly taken a turn for the better.

My mother's situation is by far the best blessing my family and I have experienced this month. The tests they ran on the lump that they removed from her breast a month ago were all best case scenario for her. They got all of the malignancy and she will not have to have chemotherapy. She will have to do seven weeks of radiation therapy and will be on hormone inhibitors for a very long time to ensure that the cancer does not come back. But that's OK. Taking a few pills every day is nothing compared to what millions of cancer patients face each day.

I have a new-found appreciation for the plight of people suffering from terminal illness, specifically cancers. I've especially cleared out a space in my heart for their loved ones who have to face the certainty that their heart will been torn in two in due time when their friend, wife, lover, mother, father, brother or sister passes from this world. It is my fervent hope that I will be able to help these people in some small way. I'm not sure how yet, but when the idea hits me, I'll know it.

As for mom, I think she has a new lease on life and she realizes that she is a much stronger person than she ever thought she was. I am truly proud of her quiet strength and faith in God throughout this entire ordeal. Mom has always been my hero, but now, she's legend.

At some point, I'll have something more uplifting to post about, but for now, I'm living in a shadow of the good life. I'm in a dank and musty cave, buried in the gloom of the rocks around me, looking out on the dappled golden sunlight, dancing on the surface of fair waters, just out of my reach.

The latest news, my mom has breast cancer. I found out a few weeks ago and simply haven't been able to collect my thoughts enough to write about it. I am sure there are many, many people out there who know exactly how I am feeling right now. There is the shock of the news. The unbelief. The denial. And the age old question, "how could this happen to us?"

I don't think it truly hit me with all the gusto of a hurricane until Monday night at 11:00. My mom had just gotten out of surgery to remove the lump and two of her lymph nodes and lay in a hospital bed at the southern medical hospital. My mom is 5'10. She is an amazon. She's always a presence in the room, but that night, she was like a dusky green-dried out shell of herself. Her skin and bone structure seemed to droop, only kept in place by the coarse cotton sheet she lay on.

It was dark, cold and quiet in that room and only the sound of the machines she was hooked up to broke the silence. My dad sat in a chair by her bed, holding her hand, his shoulders making an upside down U under his rumpled shirt. The picture of sadness. It was a dark time for us. A very real look at what could be the future of all of us.

The positive news is that they caught my mom's cancer very early on and the doctors seem to be confident about her chances of making a full recovery, although, the robots that they are, no one will come out and say it. She'll have to undergo seven weeks of radiation treatment at best, chemo if necessary, but we are hoping that won't be the case.

She's back home now, surrounded by a garden of flowers and plants from friends and loved ones. Her color is coming back and the desperation of Monday night is slowly receding into our memories. Somehow though, I hope it doesn't disappear completely. It is a great reminder of the fragility of each of our lives and good to remember, even when we venture out from our gloomy caves and turn our faces up into that shower of amber sunlight beyond.

Well, I didn't get the job I wanted. They hired someone else who was willing to take 10,000 a year less than my salary requirement. In part, I am not upset about this because I wouldn't want to work for a company not willing to pay their talent what they are worth. On the other hand, I really need a job.

I am trying to be patient and believe that the right job is out there waiting for me.

But I've come to believe that waiting is the hardest game to play.

I recently moved from Atlanta, where I had an incredible job with a company who shall remain nameless, in Marketing. I was there for six years. I established incredible friendships and working relationships, and was promoted three times without even seeking to be promoted. My work spoke for itself and people needed me.

So why am I having such a hard time finding a good job here in Dallas? I ended up taking a five month contract position because I wasn't able to find anything permanent and now I am on the job hunt again. I've been on three interviews in the past two weeks and no call backs. One interview went incredibly well and the hiring manager really seemed to like me. I was there on Thursday, now it is Tuesday. Is it too early to be worried that I haven't heard anything back? I am starting to become a neurotic mess! I need a job! It isn't a money issue right now, but more of a, I need to find my place issue.

I am such a mental mess right now...

How important is it to you to have a personal soundtrack? For some, perhaps it isn't even a point that has been pondered once in their existence. For me, my soundtrack changes daily, but their are songs that have been running in the background of my personal film for many, many years. Here is a list of constants in my soundtrack song list:

• Roads by Portishead
• To Wish Impossible Things by the Cure
• The Other Side by Morphine
• Riders on the Storm by the Doors
• Bedshaped by Keane
• Piece of my Heart by Janis Joplin
• Next Lover by James
• Never is a Promise by Fiona Apple
• Novocaine for the Soul by the Eels
• World of Two by Cake
• My Lover's Gone by Dido
• 'Til the End of Time by Delerium
• I Can't Be With You by the Cranberries
• The Wind Cries Mary by Jimi Hendrix

There are others, but these are the ones that stand out the most for me. I had no idea I had such a sad soundtrack. It is very interesting to discover. Try this for yourself. See what you come up with. For me, I am a little scared of myself.