Last day of 2003 (for some of us)

Some of us have already rang in the new years -- primarily those people who live on the other side of the world.

I have nothing profound to say today. I say that in anticipation that no one reads my blog on this day searching for something profound. Not that I ever have much profound to say, but I do at times think that I do have profound things to say. If that sounds egotistical--sorry--it wasn't meant to be.

Food and Friendship

I had lunch with my friend Chris today. It was very nice. He has very, very blue eyes. I noticed his eye color even more today. No, I am not gay. But I do think he is a good looking man with nice eyes. Okay, maybe that does sound gay.

Last night I had dinner with my friend Alan. It was a sobering but delightful time. Alan seemed very real to me last night. Not that he is a fake other times, its just, I felt like I connected with him last night. I felt his humanness and that was nice. I too felt human. I felt normal.

Illegal Aliens

Seven of my family members from Mexico are in town. They arrived yesterday.

Yup, the stereo type of a whole family of Mexicans fitting into a car rings true with my family. All seven of them piled into a twin cab Chevy truck and made the trek from Cd. Juarez, Mexico, to Las Vegas. That's a 12-hour drive. Cd. Juarez is across the border from El Paso, Texas.

They want to hang out with me tonight. Part of me is reluctant because most likely they will want to hangout on the Strip. I like them, but the Strip sucks!

You Should shave

My Mom really knows how to get my goat. She told me jokingly this morning, "you really should shave....you look like one of them Al Queda people."

Thanks, Mom!

Life. Ramon's Life.

"My Jesus has been marred," is the thought that ran through my head last during dinner.

I think the thought is poetic. Read it again.

MY JESUS HAS BEEN MARRED.

Is Jesus really marred?

No.

Is my view of Jesus marred?

Yes.

Is there redemption for it?

Yes and No.

There were so many things that I knew about Jesus and His people. Many of those things have perished.

Most of those things need no resurrection.

Some of those things need CPR. Some need a transplant. Others need vitamins.

What I need

I need for people to ask how I am doing. I need for people to ask my dad how he is doing. I need people to ask my mom how she is doing. And then, I need you to listen. Nothing more. Maybe a prayer.

Semi-Random thoughts

Incident: During the music billboard awards a commercial came on introducing some new show along with some new actress. She was very, very skinny.

Reaction: Why does our society tout the blonde hair anorexic woman as the epitome of beauty?

I think sir mixalot makes an interesting case. Although, I don't buy into his complete message either.

Incident: I was thinking about the people at my house church.

Reaction: Those thoughts made me happy.

Thankful?

Hmm....

How is one supposed to act when attending a thanksgiving dinner where you know full well that you are handing out with a bunch of damn liars and hypocrites?

I'm pretty sure its not the way I acted last night.

Last night I hungout at a dinner party where most the people were family members of mine. There were many recognizable faces. Some were very old faces, some were mid-aged faces, some were young faces.

Then there was the semi-recognizable face. The woman who I've meet once and seen many times. The same women who is a full-blown alcoholic and who is wealthy enough that she is able to gamble 16 hours a day if she chooses. And most days, she chooses to do that.

Looking back at last night I think she was the most real person there. With maybe the exception of my father.

Last night should have went better. This morning I realized that.

This Morning

A story that Joe recently told was brought to mind. The story of Jesus hanging out with the pharisee having dinner. The same story where the prostitute cries at Jesus' feet. And then she precedes to wipe his feet with her hair.

After being reminded of the story, I re-read it. I found something interesting. I saw my situation. I saw Jesus hanging out with a bunch of damn liars and hypocrites. I saw Jesus hanging out with the full blown alcoholic and loving her. The same people Jesus hungout with I too hungout with. The same story? No!

What's the difference?

Jesus VS Ramon

Jesus reclined at the table, partaking in the conversation.

Ramon reluctantly reclined at the table, scoffing at the the Damn liars and Hypocrites.

Jesus interacted with the pharisee.

Ramon remained quiet.

Jesus called-out the pharisee on his judgmental attitude towards the prostitute.

Ramon feed his judgmental attitude all night with placards of how hypocritical and how devious these damn liars were.

Jesus allowed the prostitute to warm up to him. He allowed her to touch him. She bathed him.

Ramon, too caught up in the hypocrites and liars, missed the moments where the full-blown alcoholic women verbally expressed her life with us. She said very little, but she said enough.

Jesus would have respected his mother.

Ramon disrespected his.

Am I thankful?

My mother and I had a chat this morning. It started off with my mom sharing her feelings about the dinner party. It then went from there with me saying "mom, I'm mad at you...and here is the reason why."

She consented that what she did was hurtful.

Later today, she and I spoke again. She again apologized for hurting my feelings.

I too apologized for acting the way I acted. I reassured her that what she did wasn't that big of a deal. It really wasn't. But it was at the time because emotional things had been piling on top of one another.

We ended our conversation like this: Mom, I forgive you. But what all three of us (mom, dad and me) need is to treat each other better.

We both agreed.

So, yes, I am thankful.

To My Hubbard Family:

WOW!

¡Felicidades!

Glasses

"Mr. Avendano, we're really sorry, but uhm...your rush order that was supposed to go in 6 weeks ago didn't go in until two minutes ago."

When they call you by your last name that is when you know something just ain't right.

Here's the story

On September 6, 2003, I ordered two pair of glasses. I was told that the first pair would arrive in a week. To my surprise, the first pair arrived in three days. The second pair, I was told would arrive in two weeks. To my dismay, my rush order pair was placed 10 minutes ago.

Assuming the worse (I imagined they were expecting) they offered me a free pair of prescription sunglasses. I accepted their apology and obliged to the free pair. But now, I am feeling uneasy about accepting the free pair.

Do I really need a free pair of sunglasses to console me? No. But had they not offered me a free pair would I have been hurt and pissed that they did not go the extra mile to soothe the situation? Yes.

What to do?

I will take them....but what if I asked them to donate the cost of the sunglasses to charity, would they do so? Probably not. But I will ask.

If you see me wearing sunglasses you will then have their answer.

Apex site
Crap. Doug found the new site.

It ain't done yet, but we are almost there. So, if you by chance find the new site too, please keep in mind that it ain't done yet. Thanks!

P.S. No, I ain't giving the address to the site...like I said, it ain't done yet :-)

P.S.S. it's cool that you found it, Doug! :-)

Update

A friend told me that she had e-mailed me through one of the provided links below, but I never got the message. Hmm....

If by chance others have e-mailed me, but haven't had a response from me, please let me know.

I may have coded something wrong. So, for assurance, please copy and paste the following e-mail address:

razor7132@cox.net


Wanted

Anyone to assist my family by being a friend to my dad.

Felix Avendano is low maintenance, cost-free, and a very fun guy to be around.

He likes parks, long walks, movies, beer, food, loves people of all walks of life, and is extremely kind to babies and young kids.

If anyone is interested in hanging out with my dad, please hang with him. He would benefit much from your love, care and involvement as a friend, and I believe you too will benefit as well. I know I have!

Please send all inquiries through me. I can be contacted in person or through my cell (401-8506) or e-mail me: razor7132@cox.net.

Ramon

Blog quotes that make me laugh

The cat is on the hit list...

--Gene Reinert

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My cat just took a violent terd in the litter box and it stinks.

--Tommy Peterson

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Right now its name is X297. I gave it that name until it is born. That way i dont get to attached if anything happens.

I love my little X297.

--Tommy Peterson

I have decided to create a new blog look. My old look was just too damn scary and I was getting bored with the edgy black thing. So, I dug around for some free blog skins and found this one. I did some modifications and bingo, the new me. Blogalicious! [bolded emphasis mine]

--Gregg Stokes

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Questions. I can’t think of any. Shit!

--Andy Harshman

Hurt. Hatred.

Why can't I just accept you as you are?

The glazed look in your eyes remind me of what has been stolen. The confused look tells me what remains. The childish glances hurt me and give me hope.

What remains stirs up hate—hate for the culprit who has robbed you. I know many times I lash out at that thief, but in the process I end up hurting you.

Pops, I'm sorry for hurting you. I forget that it’s not your fault. I forget that it is not you who are responsible for your condition. Forgive me for misdirecting my anger.

Los Juanes
A Dios Le Pido

These lyrics sum of my life at this moment:


Que mis ojos se despierten con la luz de tu mirada yo
a Dios le pido

Que mi madre no se muera y que mi padre me recuerde
a Dios le pido

Que te quedes a mi lado y que mas nunca te me vayas mi vida
a Dios le pido

Que mi alma no descanse cuando de amarte se trate mi cielo
a Dios le pido


Por los días que me quedan y las noches que aún no llegan yo
a Dios le pido

Por los hijos de mis hijos y los hijos de tus hijos
a Dios le pido

Que mi pueblo no derrame tanta sangre y se levante mi gente
a Dios le pido

Que mi alma no descanse cuando de amarte se trate mi cielo
a Dios le pido


Un segundo más de vida para darte y mi corazón entero entregarte

Un segundo más de vida para darte y a tu lado para siempre yo quedarme

Un segundo más de vida yo a Dios le pido
Y que si me muero sea de amor
y si me enamoro sea de vos
y que de tu voz sea este corazón todos los días a Dios le pido
Y que si me muero sea de amor
y si me enamoro sea de vos
y que de tu voz sea este corazón todos los días a Dios le pido

A Dios le pido

Exhaustion

---

How does one resolve the emotional entanglement of the death of a loved one?

Today at the cemetery I mumbled the following prayer: "My pobre mensa".

The hurt and the pain you caused, so unfair. But, how can I hold that against you when you yourself were in such turmoil. Your hurt, your pain, your anger, your selfishness, blinded you.

What you worked so hard for brought you your demise. But you had no other choice. You were wrongly accused, wrongly ridiculed, wrongly pursued. All works of the devil.

Those who called themselves Christians were the first to pick up the stones. They were the first to pass over their sins and judge you with such intense disgust; they hailed those rocks at your head. They killed your heart.

I can't blame you entirely, sis. How I miss you. This should not have happened. It is not fair--all I get are memories.

Your memories are not enough. How can one stand on a righteous soapbox and proclaim: you have memories to hold onto. I rather not waste my time in cursing such maladies.

I hate the 80's. Especially those evangelical 80's Christians. You know the ones...

But what good does my hate do? None. No good at all. My hate is really not hate. What I have is hurt, hurt, hurt.

If I weren’t a little kid at the time I would have protected you. I would have stuck up for you. I would have shielded you. What they did was wrong. Yes, you made mistakes, but where was the grace?

They used you. They made you their escape goat. Their pretty boy got away. I don't blame him, but I blame the leadership. I blame those who pranced around on the stage with their bibles proclaiming God's goodness and love. But in the meanwhile they slaughter you for divorce. They slandered you. They ridiculed you. He got away.

What of their sins? Yes, their sins. Their sins eventually caused division in the church. Their sins split the church. But they were forgiven. And they too got away.

They are still alive. You, My sister, are dead.

Am I anger for what they did? Yes. Do I want retribution? No.

What I do want is for them to acknowledge their wrongs.

Some are still preachers. Some are still worship leaders. Do what's right.

Maybe what I ask them to do is retribution. If that is the case, then I do want retribution!

This is not an open letter. These are my emotions.

The Fruits of Our Labor

This morning we launched the official espanol version of VEGAS.com -- pronounced: VEGAS punto com.

Here is the direct link to the to the official espanol site: http://espanol.vegas.com

Also, there is the link to the official english site: http://www.vegas.com

Both sites have a top nav graphic that link to its counter-language part. One says English and the other says.......En Espanol, of course :-)

On a unrelated note: Off to the cementary. Today is my sister's birthday. It’s a mexican thing.

Ramon

Perchlorate Lake Mead

Just got home from our sailing trip.

We stopped and ate dinner at Milo's (something....something place) -- I don't remember the full name. Nonetheless, it is in downtown Boulder city.

Today I had some moments of feeling like a kid again--unfortunately it did not last long. My friend, me and Jeff Stoddard set anchor at this nice alcove that faced in the direction of the Dam.

The three of us swam, laughed and played with our noodles (floating devices). We laughed about the concept of magical brown floating noodles and pondered why the water seemed warmer--at times--waist high. Typical guy stuff. But it was fun.

There was a moment where childhood memories rushed through my mind -- those memories were sad ones -- memories of when my friend used to tease me and pick on me. There was a moment where I held my breathe in anticipation of him picking on me.

To my surprise and relief, he did not. On the contrary, with a sincere heart I felt that he was looking out for my best interest, doing his best to keep me out of harms way. A small, clumsy, powerful moment was experienced (had).

I'm dead beat. Time for bed.

One last thing, we did stick with tradition--A dairy Queens run was had prior to heading back to Vegas.

Scene II, Act 1 or Act 1, Scene II

Which on is it?

We had a spiritual/roommate/life pow-wow this morning.

Our derailed freight train is back on course. Life is a little better.

Jeff, me and my friend are off sailing this afternoon at the perchlorite infested Lake Mead. I anticipate a time of talking about life and God.

Pray for us.

Ramon

How I feel right now

I was a fool to say "may I sit back and enjoy the show." What a fool I am ... and what a foolish thing to say.

Things are not going as I planned. Things are more hairy than I anticipated.

I am happy though to be experimenting with my emotions and with issues, rather than going through a mental spiritual checklist, checking off items where I have offended or have not offended.

Although it is difficult, and in some sick way--even as drained as it makes me, I am some what okay with going through what I am going through with my friend.

Please pray for him, me, my dad and my mom. We have lots of things to hash out.

What a fool I am!

On with the show....

Life and Death

I hate cancer.

Joe and Debbie...I'm sorry. I love you guys and am praying for you and your family.

Love,

Ramon

Work

I'm at work--working late again.

We have a new product coming out and I have to work late. Part of me doesn't mind, part of me does. Going through HTML files and flagging them for translation requires a Communications degree. :-)

Should only be here for another hour; it might be two if I keep goofing off!

Unexpected Visitor, Unexpected Circumstances

A childhood friend recently came back into my life in a full way. My friend is now living with me and parents. I don't know how that happened.

Please pray for him and his circumstances. God knows what's in store...may I sit back and enjoy the show.

Doug...thanks :-) And I'll tell my friend that you like his bas--ass tattoos :-)

To My Friend

I want to reach out and touch you; I want to say hello again.

I don't fully understand you, nor do you fully understand me.

It seems so much better to have open dialogue than to have closed lips.

I see you from a distance, I wonder about many things.

The look on you face is both revealing and deceiving.

Revealing the joy I see in you--deceiving me 'cause I am unable to share in that joy with you.

Some may say, "bury the hatchet." But I ask, "what hatchet is there to bury?". For we are not in arms against each other; that barrier does not exist.

For us, another barrier exists.

Our barrier is invisible. Its manifestations are unknown to others, but very real to us.

I pray that barrier would desist. I pray that we both work on the areas we have acknowledged.

May our relationship move away from mere psuedo glances.

May we not run from each other--looking for a place to hide.

Sense of Loss

This morning I awoke with a sense of loss in my heart, mind and soul.

I am sadden by the Palmer's whole ordeal. I was unaware of Jennifer's passing until last night.

Mark, I am so sorry. I feel my words have no true comfort for you--because quite frankly, they probably don't. If I could do or say something to fix or help out, I would. But I can't. So I pray and will continue to pray.

Thank you for being honest and real. Rather, you are honest and real...so, in actuality, thank you for sharing and allowing us to share in your lives.

Ramon

I am off to another wedding in California

Two California trips in one month is very tiring. Although, I thank God this trip is closer in distance than the last.

Me and three off my college friends (I hate that term)...let use, instead, ... (InterVarsity rejects)...are off to an InterVarsity Wedding.

An InterVarsity wedding is not some "single A" college basketball team ceremony. "InterVarsity", short for "InterVarsity Christian Fellowship," is a group that found me while I was a student at the fabulous University of Nevada Las Vegas. Okay, Okay, maybe its not fabulous, but there were days that I pretended it was. And now, having gotten me an edumacation, I now know the truth about my alma mater...it sucks as much as I do. My educational experience was a difficult one. There are days that I believe that my education has only served me in one way: meeting my future boss, Danny Greenspun.

Nonetheless, that is neither here or there. Back to the wedding.

My friend Jeff Hamilton is getting married tomorrow. He is a former staff worker for Intervarsity and is marrying Rachel, who happens to also be a former InterVarsity staff worker. Funny how those things work out. But come to think of it, how come I never hooked up? Well, in all seriousness, I think I know why. And God knows too. And so do some of you.

I am happy for Jeff and Rachel.

Jeff if fortunate to be marrying a "real" girl. A real girl who knows knows about the joys and pains of life. I happy that he did not succmb to the temptation to marry just anyone, or worse, to marry a girl 'cause she is "hot", "fine", "phat", "gorgeous", etc... Jeff could have fallen into the trap of "me man--you woman" let's get married syndrome; but he did not.

Instead, he involved his community on his decision of marriage. To the extent that he involved them, I am unaware of. But, knowing the type of community he comes from, I know he involved them quite a bit. And furthermore, I know that he was open to much counsel from those who have gone before him.

I anticipate our trip to be fun. With that said, Father God, may we have fun and may we not do stupid things to hurt ourselves nor may stupid or careless things be done to us. Me, superstitous? Nah...Okay, maybe a little...

My three companions for tomorrow are Paul Weiland (former roomate of two years and interVarsity reject), Josh Krage (friend and InterVarsity reject), and Erick Hutchinson, whom we call "Hutch" (friend, former accountability partner and InterVarsity reject).

We are scheduled to leave at 7 a.m. That's kinda early, but not really. I hoping this will be a fun and relaxing trip to hang out and truly be ourselves and laugh all the way there and all the way back.

I just got a call Josh...last minute planning details to hash out. I am now really excited 'cause he's bringing some ambience elecronica music. Think of slow techno accompanied with visual stimulants, and that is kinda what ambience electronica music is. He is bringing one of my favorite cd's of all time: Little Buddha Cafe.

Well, I'm out for now. Must clean room, pack and chill before the trip.

Peace!

Our Trip has come to an end

Here is a synoptical itemize list of what we have done in the last four days:

- Drove to los banos and crashed for a few hours at my sister's.

- Drove to San Francisco and walked Pier 39. Has a clam chowder bread bowl. Alan had my crackers, nothing more. He doesn't like seafood.

- Drove to Newark, CA and crashed for a few hours at our hotel.

- Drove to the wedding and interacted with many different people. Ate some very, very, very, very good Pak-Indian food.

- Drove to hotel and went to bed.

- Drove to San Jose and visited an art museum, kinkos for internet access, an independent movie house and had drinks at their coffee bar, walked downtown San Jose.

- Drove to my sister's house. On the way we stopped at Casa De Fruta (House of Fruit), it's a former hacienda that has been converted into a tourist trap that sell every type of fruit product imaginable.

- Drove to my sister's house and cooked dinner and ate it.

- Visited my sister's neighbor's. An elderly couple. The husband is a retired pastor who is suffering from cancer. Meet all the other neighbor's.

- Slept.

- Woke up early and drove home.

- Talked with mom, alan, dad and then went and hung with community.

That's the synopsis.

My sister's house

Alan...I mean, Allan and I made it to her house (Los Banos, CA). We listened to two John Piper sermons on the way down to my sister's house.

We had a good time in San Jose. Alan's desire to visit an art museum showed me a new aspect about my Barrio. After leaving the art museum, I spent a half hour looking for internet acces. All the while, Allan soaked his feet in the fountains in the heart of Downtonw San Jose.

Upon finding my cherished internet access, I went to look for Allan. Allan was to be found soaking his feet, taking in the scenery (kids and others jumping, weaving in-n-out of the water pillars), and thinking comlentative thoughts.

Kinkos was our internet "dealer" for the afternoon. Fininshing our fix, we headed over to an independent movie house where they served up nicely brewed coffee. I ordered a Chai tea Latte and Allan had steamed milked with a shot of Irish cream. Allan, the inquisitive man he is, asked me if I liked my drink. "Well, Alan, its like drinking an expected coca-cola when in reality you're drinking a diet coke....it leaves a bad taste in your mouth." Apparently, the counter-cultered chick behind the counter mistook my longing for an all natural starbuck's chai tea latte, and served me up a discounted cup of soy milk chai latte tea. I must admit, it was a decent drink--but, even more decent was the price. A $1.75 is what I paid. Starbucks would have charge me double!

Here's Allan:

hey allan, it your turn to write. In a whiny, alan voice, he laments "I don't want to write anything." Pha! What a putz! My niece Melissa chimes in, "Uncle Ramon, your like a big 12 year old." Whatever, Melissa. But I still love ya Mija.

Saturday of our trip

We are sitiing at Kinko's in downtown San Jose (my home town).

We're approachning three o'clock and have been laid back today with out time and our destination. We're having dinner with my sister, her family and my dad. Should be fun.

I am being charged 20 cents a minute. Me being the simpled minded math guys asks the counter-boy/man, "how much is that for an hour"? His response, "12 dollars an hour." I guess I could have taken the time to figured it out but I didn't. Let's see...there's 60 minutes in one hour, 12 incriments on a clock, one dollar for each incriment, 12 incriments multipled by one dollar; that inded does make 12 dollars for an hour.

It's kinda nice chillin' in my home town with Alan. But, it would be a whole different scenario if he were my wife...you know what I mean. If instead of him being here, I could have my wife here. Alan just finish reading the newspaper and now is reading what I am typing. I should hurry up and clarify the wife thing before either a) he gets insulted b) you (the reader) misunderstand or c) Alan helped me with the "b" portion--he suggested it and d) there is no "d".

Alan versus my imaginative wife:

"Alan is a man--that's it" Alan chimes in. We both laugh :-)

Alan is my friend and my brother. He has accompanied me on this trip which has been a good one. He cares for me and I care for him. Alan, do you love me? "Yes he does, even though I spell his name wrong all the time" Allan spouts off.

If Allan were my wife, i could intimately share with him my home town. That doesn't mean that I can't intimately share with him my home town and that he would appreciate it or like it.

If Allan were my wife I could show him my home town and that would be another link in our bond as husband/wife. But Allan is not my wife, neither is Alan.

So, what's point? Stop day-dreaming about my imiginative wife, and continue enjoying Allan's company and enjoying Alan's company as well. Allan chimes in, "even though Allan is tired and cranky."

I will now turn it over to Allan or is it Alan?

Ramon didn't mention that last night we spent from 8pm - 1am at a Pakistani wedding. It was fun, even though there wasn't any dancing. The main thought that was going through my head was: Wow, Pakstani women are beautiful! And I mean it, they really are. Their clothes were really beautiful too and that is something you would never hear me say about clothes. It was also a Muslim wedding, that was very interesting too. It seems as though almost everyone there was affluent and I wondered about the Islamic teaching regarding the rich and wealth. At the wedding, I didn't actually meet any Pakstani people, but we sat at the White person table and I didn't feel outgoing, although I felt totally comfortable, being not outgoing. All and all, the experience was a worthwhile one and I learned a lot about myself and a different culture.

I'm tired and that is all I have to say.

I just finish writing my thoughts our day at frisco and stupid Mac crappy system doesn't work -- maybe it is user error.

Here is Allan:

Allan is pretty sure it was user ignorance. "Use the Apple key, Ramon." Jim, what are we gonna do with these Ibm junkies. so yea, we are in frisco at this internet cafe and I have 5 minutes to write, because it costs 4 freakin dollars per 15 minutes. In Ramon's thoughts he proposed that I am cheap and I would have to agree with that proposition. We thought about going to China town, but I dont wanna pay for the trolley... and we don't have time to walk there... so we didn't go. But that is ok with me, because... I value my money more than I should.

In Other news, I started playing Star Wars and I actually considered buying a freakin new computer just to play this game... I mean that I actually started to price stuff out at Jim's, but my cheapness has won and also, I feel like the game is somewhat vampiric. I am sure it could be a joy to some people, but it just sucks me dry, even though I enjoy (in a wierd way) the self-destruction.

Ramon is telling me to hurry up when we have about 1.5 minutes left... How freakin long does it take to click twice... i do have to ask you that Ramon... and I tell you to Stop and DESIST you anxious crazy person.

Ok, now I really should get off... Peace out my brothers... 30 secs to go
!!!!!!!!

San Francisco Trip

Alan, my dad and I are off to Frisco. We are leaving right now!

My dad will stay with my sister and his grand kids. Alan and I will hit frisco first for a bowl of clam chowder. Then we are off to fremont, ca for a wedding.

Will post blogs through trip.

Peace!

Father -

help me to stop being a legalist.

I confess that I choose legalism on a constant basis.

I confess that I do not truly know how to live in your love.

I confess that discipline seems more holy than submission to your love.

I am stuck in bondage once again and don't know how to get out. I am afraid to get out. I am afraid to live.

I find myself once again as the apostle paul cired out -- I do what I do not want to do...and the very thing I do not want to do I do. And the very thing I hate I do. What I want to do I do not do.

Latinos and their Queen of Salsa

Celia Cruz died today.

I did not personally know her. But I knew her music.

Her death is a big ordeal for the Latino community and many others around the world.

Here is a link a to a news article. I choose this article because of its vast information, but also, the article offers six 30 second snippets of her music.

If you never heard her stuff, please take a listen. Particularly, listen to "Guantanamera" and "Vida es un Carnaval"

One thing to note: to hear the music you must have real player. If you don't have it, click here to download a free copy.

Thanks.

LIFE

"Life is a mystery, everyone must stand alone
I hear you call my name
And it feels like home"

-- Madonna

These are the thoughts that ran through my head early one morning not too long ago. I found some comfort and solace in it. But my Christian upbringing say's "don't listen to what she says -- its the work of the devil...."

Quite frankly, I don't want to care much for some of the things that I have been taught.

I have been taught that "a Christian does this or a Christian does that...." I get so angry with the crap that I believe at times.

The things that my culture tells me about Christ and who he is just plain freakin' wrong at times. And then at other times it is completely right.

But here's the kicker...I think I am more mad at myself for being to sheepish, to afraid or just plain gluttonous with my thoughts.

Why the heck do I believe the lies that I believe? What not take the same energy and time and dedicate myself to believing in the truth?

For the last six months or so, I have had the following thought run through my head "if Drew Carey can find mental peace with who he is and can come to enjoy life and enjoy himself, why can't I?"

That probably makes no sense to any of you -- so I will try and explain. And after I explain and it still doesn't make sense, well then, maybe one day I can better explain it in person.

Here I go:

One day I heard about this dramatic story of how Drew Carey found healing from severe depression (Just for the record, i don't think I suffer from severe depression. I may, however, suffer with a mild to a medium case of depression -- who knows!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?).

Anywho, the story I heard on TV was all about how Drew Carey found solace and contentment in life through self-help books. Apparently, Drew Carey became a healed man! Whoopi freakin' do! You go boy!

Okay, aside from my sarcasm, I did eventually come to a point where I questioned "how" Drew Carey found healing. Drew Carey found healing through self help books. He found healing by thinking better thoughts about himself. He found healing by believing he was a better man. He found healing by believing that his belief was a good belief which lead him to believe that his belief would work for him.

What's my point? Here, we have a man who believed himself to health. For all I know, he could be believing that ... it doesn't matter what he believes. What matters is that he had the ability to believe.

I believe in Jesus. I do my best to live for Jesus. I am probably harder on myself than Jesus is on my me. Apparently, Jesus has a better understanding of a thing called "Grace". And Ramon has very little understanding of "Grace".

Belief is a big thing. And although I don't care what Drew Carey believes -- I really do care what he believes. I care because what he believed ain't Jesus. Maybe it is and I have no clue what I am talking about.

But the fact of the matter is, Drew Carey had the ability to believe in something.

Jesus, whom I believe in is more powerful than what Drew Carey believes in. Unless, of course, he believes in Jesus. Then, who knows what happens from there, maybe the two cancel each other out. BLAH!!!!!!!

Drew Carey is a better man than I am. Not because of his riches or his fame, but because he evidently has the ability to believe. Unless he is just faking it. And if he is faking it then I am the better man because I am trying to believe.

Forgetfulness

I seriously don't know why, but for the last two weeks I keep forgetting to put on deodorant. Some days I put it on, some days I plain forget. Like this morning. I specifically made a mental not in my head to put it on, but then I plum forgot. What gives? Is this a manifestation of some emotional state that I'm in? Argh!!!!

Father Maloney AKA George A. Maloney, S.J.

About a year ago I went to a monastery. While there, I rummaged through the monastery's book store. I came across a book called:

Jesus, Set me Free!
Inner Freedom Through Contemplation

Up until this week I hadn't pick up the book. On Monday I read the introduction. It goes as follows:

You and I are more slaves than freed persons. Part of our slavery consists in having forgotten what true freedom means as children of God. We often are content to live in the narrow confines of our slavery, mainly because everyone else is in the same prison. Blindness is not so great a suffering if all human begins were born blind and never could know any other possibility. But blindness would become unbearable if there were among all the blind persons one man who really could see!
The way we perceive ourselves, God and the world is fairly much the same way others perceives the same relationships. That precisely is part of our slavery. But Jesus Christ came among us with the eyes of God. He was "the true light that enlightens all men" (Jn 1:9). That light shines in our darkness and cannot be overpowered by our darkness (Jn 1:5).

I wanted share this 'cause it reminds me of the Matrix and the study we are doing at Apex.

I can't recommend this book per se cause I haven't read it. But when I'm finished, I'll pass along my thumbs up or thumbs down.

My Sister

Each time I encounter my sister I learn from her. Thank you, Heidi.

Spinach in my teeth

Today I have spilt three different things on my shirt in six different places.

1. Coffee on my shirt this morning.

2. Barbecue sauce on 4 different places.

3. And lastly, a peice of honking lettuce on the middle of my shirt which I didn't notice until a co-wroker pointed out.

God loves me :-)

And on a related note, God has shown me his love through this incident. Just earlier today I said to myself "self" all your blogs are about hard, hurting, depressing issues, when you you gonna write about something funny? I didn't plan it folks. Hopefully you found it funny. I did. And I laughed too!

I think I'm finally figuing out this HiLo LoHi safe mode stuff with blogger

I was reading my friend's Blog today (Meghann Kathleen Peterson). She wrote about her childhood. Interesting story. As she told her story, she recounted what she recalls as her first memory (Christmas 1982: Puppy in a box).

I read her story with curiosity and then began to wonder about my first memory. I'm sad to say that my first memory is of fear. Fear of my mother dying, a fear that still consumes me to this day. How I hate fear. I fear just about everythig. And then again, there are times I don't fear at all.

Every so ofetn I get into these stages of my life where there is much chaos and heart-ache. I find myself in such a place now. Part of it is due to not understanding God and the things he's doing in my life. Part of it is me being selfish. Part of it is based in pain. And part of it is just confusion.

Please pray that God would speak to me and to people in my community. Pray that I and my community are able to clearly identify his voice. Pray for confirmation on things.

Thanks.

Prayer

There are days when I FEEL prayer.

There are days when I feel like not praying.

There are days when I am afraid to pray.

There are days when I am ashamed to pray.

There are days when I WANT to pray.

There are days when I ought to pray.

There are days when I wish I could pray.

There are days when I can't pray.

There are days when I don't know how to pray.

There are days when I just wanna pray.

This morning I laid my hand on my Father and prayed for him. I felt all the apparent negative from the list. God still provided amidst my feelings.

What am I to learn from this?

It is 6:41 p.m.. It is Thursday, May 29, 2003. I'm sitting in my work chair looking out of my window. It's a little breezy outside. I'm waiting for my brother to call me. I'm supposed to check out his step-son perform and receive an award at some sort of function this evening. His step-son's name is Anthony.

The event is to be held at an outdoor auditorium. It's one of those places where you sit outside and watch people on stage. I was looking forward to this event, but now I'm waiting to hear if there is an available ticket. The phone just rang....looks like I'm headed off to see a performance.

Later.

Sadness

Certain areas of the city bring sadness and despair to my heart--quite possibly a mild depression. In what people may see as life, I see death. The inner city is where life is for me...Green Valley is death for me. I see loneliness and despair masked by nice buildings, fancy cars and chic looking restaurants. I'm having lunch at a chic restaurant today. The only plus is that it is family owned and operated...which means there should be lots of people and many kids running around. Thank God for big Italian families.

This is my first real blog.

Although, this is not my first blog account.

Back in August 2002, I created an account with the title name of "La Calle Catorce."

14th street, I thought, was to be an experience in my life unparalleled to any other. I along with a friend (Alan) moved into an apartment in the barrio, which happened to be on 14th and Mesquite. Alan and I had planned to live there for one year. My stay lasted 2 moths.

Usually when people find out that I only lasted 2 months in the barrio, I typically receive a half-cocked smile, maybe a wince--as if somehow they were feeling my pain of defeat. Usually, in my opinion, their wince, half-cocked smile is out of sympathy because an assumption is made. That assumption goes something like this: "the barrio chewed you up and spit you out, that's tough bro...[pat, pat on my back] you'll do better next time."

If that were only the case.

Truth of the matter, as I reflect back, I think it was totally in God's plan for me to move into an apartment for only two months. Regardless of all the planning, prayer and preparation that went into the decision of moving into the barrio. I think God allowed it that way--which quite frankly, has served me well.

For those of you who don't know my story and this whole barrio thing makes no sense, let me explain.

I'm a schmuck. And I have a problem with controlling myself in many ways. But even more truthful, I don't know who I am. Well, I think I have a better idea of who I am now, than I did back then. Back then was August 2002 and the 25 years before that.

My friend Alan and I moved into the barrio with a specific goal: to love people, have a good time, experience community and in the end, if a house church birth through this process, then we were cool with that.

I left our goals. And I left the barrio, too.

I no longer live in a 2 bedroom, cockroach infested, no air-conditioned apartment. I now live in a 3 bedroom/2 bath home with a front and backyard. However, I still have the roaches. I think my parents are still peeved about me bringing my roaches to their home. But, I'm quite positive that it is the last thing on their minds. Especially my father's.

My father has brain cancer.

And that is why I left the barrio.