I'm Back.

"Damn you Triple George, Damn you and your sourdough bread."

--Ramon Avendano

All it took was one sit down meal and two loaves of sourdough bread and my eating plan was shot.

7 months ago, give or take a few days, I ate lunch at Triple George. Since that day, I have barely worked out, have been extremely inconsistent with my eating plan and have gained 5 pounds.

"I hate you, Triple George. I hate you and your sourdough bread. Truth be told, your bread ain't even that good."

-- Ramon Avendano

Now that I have recused myself from Triple George, I am here to publicly state that I am back on my eating plan and exercising consistently.

Here's one obstacle though, I know myself -- I am a good starter of things, but fail to maintain them over the long haul.

I really want to do better. And in the words of Dana Owens (aka Queen Latifa), I want to be "one size healthier."

But even more that one size healthier, my once goal of being 30 pounds lighter has crept up now to being 50 pounds lighter.

I need help. You can pray for me, if you'd like. Oh, and feel free to periodically check out my daily plate profile:

http://www.thedailyplate.com/diary/who/razor7132

... and yes, you can ask me about my progress.

Enjoy!

I love the song. And the video is still one of the best ever!

Work

I have never been a fan of talking about work online. Previously, when I worked at VEGAS.com, I specifically stayed away from chatting about the musing of day-to-day things, primarily because when you work for an internet company, everybody tends to know what you say online. It was just part of the culture.

Now that I work for the county and am a Public Employee, I am even more cautious as to not write about day-to-day things. I have nothing bad or slanderous or juicy to say, but since I have always heard of people being fired due to exposing some company secret that got out onto a personal blog, I figure it is best practice to mind one's p's and q's about work online.

I say all this because I have friends wishing to work for the county and tend to struggle in following through with the application (it is quite lengthy) or think they shouldn’t apply because they might not qualify or think they will never get in because they have no connections.

From personal experience, I offer the following bits of advice and encouragement.

It is true, as in all of life, it helps to know some one. Knowing someone, however, doesn't necessarily mean to have 'juice'. Rather, do you know someone? Really, anyone, for that matter will do. If you know someone, even if briefly, and you strike upon them that you are a good, hardworking person, who is cordial and willing to bust your hump when called to do so, then you have a foot in the door. And the more people 'you know' and the more people who 'know you', all the better.

Now, do understand that you must be qualified for which ever position you apply for. But that should not limit you in applying for positions that you are partially qualified for. Even if you have even the smallest experience with a position, apply for it.

In regards to the online application, here are things to keep in mind:

* The key is to provide as much relevant data to pass the first round which is the scrutiny of HR. After that, your application would go to the actual department that is hiring.

* There are two parts to all county applications: the application itself and then the supplemental questions (most positions have supplementals).

* For the application and the supplemental questions, look at the job description and break it apart into quantifiable sections/categories.

* Regarding each section/category, write down all experiences you have from classes and/or other working positions. There is no need to down-grade your experience by annotating that your experience comes from classes. You need to ‘up-yourself’ by adding that you have taken such classes. In other words, don't think or say, "I only have classroom experience." If there is something that you did in class that matches the section/category, you say so on the app or the supplemental questions.

* Use appropriate profession-jargon under the appropriate areas. Where jargon is not needed, don't put it.

* Pay close attention to the language that is used in describing the position you are applying for. Be sure to mirror the same language in your application appropriately.

* Finally, above all else, be honest! Lying will not help you get and maintain a job. what is said as a blatant falsehood is “open scandal in heaven”. And because of that, the truth will come out.

I’m sure there are a lot of other pointers out there on how to successfully apply for a county job, but this all I can think of at the moment.

A clever way to express observation. Next up, introspection.

So Much ...

Life has been a whirlwind tale of ups and downs, no different than any other person's life. But I suppose that the greatest difference is that it is my life and, my life alone to live. All responsibilities in my life are on my shoulders. However, that does not exclude the acceptance of asking for and receiving help from others.

The last four months have gone by so fast. I remember as kid I used to dislike the thrall of slow days, supposing that I would never reach a certain age, do certain things. But how great was it to revel in placid, long days. Most of my days as a kid were just that way.

MaryAnn and I have put our house up for rent. We are currently residing with my mom, although these days I just call her mom as opposed of the possessive "my mom". Being married has done that to me. Even though I have siblings who are much older than me, I have always referred to my mother as "my mom". It interesting though, because these days I refer to her in third person as "mom". I do so purposefully as a means of including MaryAnn into to the family dynamics, I don't want her to ever feel like she is excluded. But then again, I don't think I could ever make her feel excluded from the Avendano family, her and mom have a very good relationship -- it is a true mother, daughter friendship.

About six months ago mom got really sick. She had an infection in her kidney that became septic. It was a huge deal since it caused her two have two seizures and other related issues. Mom only has one kidney, the other was removed about 15 years ago after being diagnosed with a malignant tumor. Doctors removed her kidney along with a six and a half pound tumor.

Since mom's health has been up and down, but progressively up, MaryAnn and I decided to move in with her. Our utmost intention is to remodel and add an addition to her house, increasing square footage to 1700. We want to do this soon, but due to the sub prime mortgage crisis, lenders are weary in doling out loans to people who don't have a financial vested interest in a property. In order to qualify for a loan, we need to live in the residence for six months and then file a loan application.

Making mom's residence our new home has been exhausting. So much work has gone into down-sizing her belongings. Initially it was a battle to convince her of getting rid of many items. Part of the issue is that many of her belongings have a huge sentimental value, especially those items that remind her of my father or sister. The good news is we have made tremendous progress in this effort. We have not done it alone though. We've had the help of a family friend name Ines. She really is a blessing. Aside from mom's stuff was our own stuff to mull through. For the most part it is quite easy, I have no problem in saying "throw it away." And the good thing with that is MaryAnn tends to be in agreement.

Overall, all three of us are content in our situation. We happy and hopeful for the future. All we need to do now is relearn how to slow down, relax and recharge.

2 Strep, 1 Gall Bladder

Sickness has crept up on MaryAnn and me. We both are suffering with Strep throats and all the accompanying side-affects: sore throats, body aches, chills, massive headaches, gas...wait, that part is normal.

And in conjunction with strep throat, I have had horrible gall bladder attacks causing me to consider the option of removing this pain through surgery.

Other than sickness, Life has been good.

At the very least, this has been a time in 'green' pastures and restoration for the soul.

Hmm...

About-face. A military term used to signal direction to another person. My life these few months have been nothing but 'about-faces'. In the last months I have recklessly expressed my opinion freely and casually to those whom have upset me. This has only led me to apologize to them. Not all of them, however. I mean, eventually I have apologized to all of them but some of them has taken me a few days to get around to apologizing to them.

I have found myself more insulted and pissed-off lately. I have a friend who thinks pissed-off is a bad word, so she uses vexed. Vexed-off doesn't have the same connotation. I want to use pissed-off cause it connotates and denotates exactly what I mean and feel! I could, I suppose, in an attempt to not sound so brash, say in a delightful manner that I am pissed off. How would that sound? Yippee..."I’m pissed off"...hooray! But to say it in such a manner would not express my true emotions. Plus, ‘delightful pissiness’ is better saved for characters like those in Willie Wonka's Chocolate Factory. There was some serious 'delightful pissiness' in that movie. Don't recall exactly where in the movie it happens, but if it were to happen in any movie, than it would be that one.

I have been angry lately and easily offended. Offended enough to tell the person who is offending me that they are doing so. But really, in truth, I'm not really telling them that they are offending me. Rather, I convey my offense to them by quipping some hurtful or tasteless, but morsful words at them. Sometimes, I resound back very non-threatening but direct words. Such as "don't contact me, I'll contact you...." Other times, I'm pretty damn insulting, and at the time, it feels good. And even in the heat of the moment of giving a verbal middle finger without actually using verbs that denotate and connotate my feelings, I know it is wrong. Now, I don't think I am willfully engaging in licentious behavior, altough, I do know, I have made choices to speak my offensive mind. Particularly when I can rationalize my behavior with "I was pissed-off and they hurt my feelings...." But then comes the counter point: were you loving your neighbor? Sure...I suppose so...damn it, I guess not. !@#$$ ... this sucks. Then follows another counter point: "was that truth in love?" Probably not, I reason. And then follows a third counter point: "were you really patient? Were you kind? Did you refrain from boastfulness? Were you long suffering? Did you refrain from rudeness? Were you prideful? And on and on....

Lately, seldom have I had 'about face' moments. Lately, I have reveled in untruths. Lately, I have become easily angered. Lately, I have not suffered for the cause of righteousness. Lately, I have not been honest with people and politely tell them how they are affecting me.

Prayer -- Reposting of an email

Hello All -

MaryAnn and I will be holding a time of prayer at our home for the Stokes and some other needs in our community. Please feel free to join us tomorrow evening (10/17) at 7 p.m. We plan on opening a time of prayer around 7:15 and going till 8, or whenever we feel led to stop.

In addition to praying for the Stokes, we would like to pray for our brothers in Iraq and their families. Also, JV recently sent out an urgent message requesting prayer for the fellowship of believers in India. They are being persecuted by local officials, who have threaten violence through a mob and are spreading false, malicious lies about the fellowship.

Feel free to bring specific things to pray for that may be near to your heart and/or to our community.

Please email me for directions. (razor7132 at gmail.com)

Thanks.

--Ramon and MaryAnn

A good, well statement.



I agree with her 99.99999%. Find myself confused on her 'purpose driven' line at the 2:30 mark, even though I'm not really a proponent of it since I have never read it.

Nonetheless, a statement of truth she gives. I like it.

Yesterday food intake was horrible

I thought I was eating a good breakfast at Denny's and come to find out, I ate over 1500 calories.

Then for lunch, I ordered at Grilled Chicken ranch BLT sandwich, only 550 calories, but they gave me fries too, so I ate them. Lunch ended up being nearly 1200 calories.

For dinner I ate healthy, but too big of portions. By this time, I was angry and mad, so I thought, might as well add some reduced sugar ice-cream to my day. And I did just that.

Probably ate over 3000 calories today. Argh!

Horrible.

Harsh. Cold. Nasty. Ouch. Messed up. Straight wrong.




Woman sets fire to ex-husband's penis

MOSCOW (Reuters) - A woman set fire to her ex-husband's penis as he sat naked watching television and drinking vodka, Moscow police said Wednesday.

Asked if the man would make a full recovery, a police spokeswoman said it was "difficult to predict."

The attack climaxed three years of acrimonious enforced co-habitation. The couple divorced three years ago but continued to share a small flat, something common in Russia where property costs are very high.

"It was monstrously painful," the wounded ex-husband told Tvoi Den newspaper. "I was burning like a torch. I don't know what I did to deserve this."


© Reuters 2007. All Rights Reserved.

For the story on Reuters website, click here

Things to be aware of at work

I went to the restroom on the third floor (near where I sit), while I was peeing I farted and I guess it was kinda loud cause when I came out, there was this pretty hispanic girl sitting in the reception area and, she gave me a half-cocked chuckling smile -- I think she might have heard me. I was embarrassed.

Note to self: be quieter next time.

Transformers
The movie

The movie was beautiful.

And even more beautiful was that my wife actually liked and enjoyed the movie.

Ahh.... :-)

Some of my niece's art

Click each photo to enlarge

This morning

Sometime this morning our friends leave for Indiana. Farwell, friends.


This Evening

Sometime this evening our house church will mourn the loss of our friends.

There's a good story behind this one, and I do mean "behind"

TRANSFORMERS
Their coming...yes!

Write.
Why journalist should stick to writing and only open their mouths to ask questions

On the radio, particularly NPR, journalists are often invited to read their writings, while others 'talk' about their writings.

Both should be banned!

I am utterly astounded by the moronic, mundane, absurd and trifle commentary often spoken by journalists.

Case in point, Frank Deford and Troy Patterson.

Deford reads his writing on air as if auditioning for a Shakespearean play.

Patterson mumbles and trips on every other word, making it very difficult to follow what he is saying.

Both writers need to stick to what they are good at and take advice from No Doubt's Rock Steady album hit song, "Don't Speak"!

--------------------

Frank Deford
http://www.npr.org/templates/story/story.php?storyId=10204598

Troy Patterson
http://www.slate.com/id/2166212/

Us at the Hubbard's celebratory Party

Jerry Falwell dead at 73

CNN reports ...

...and more music

Bizet, Carmen Prelude to Act1

Pachelbel, Cannon in D

Allegro (Danza Pastorale), Salzburg Chamber Orchestra

Summer: Alegro Non Moltro, Salzburg Chamber Orchestra

Listening to today
Classical, Psuedo Classical,Operatic and Ambiance Techno

Tchaikovsky, 1812 Overture

Vivaldi, Violin Concerto in F Major RV269 "Autumn"

Presto, Salzburg Chamber Orchestra

A Ghaoth Andeas, Soundecor Recording Company

Puccini, La Boheme - Comic Waltz

Right Mindfulness, Chinmaya Duns

Beethoven, Symphony No. 5

Bach, Air on the String

3-2-1 Contact

For the last couple of weeks I've been involved with an old IBM main frame and its Relational Data Base Management System.

Two of our developers have been giving me introductions into these systems, and as I deal with these systems and these individuals, I reminiscently think of that 1980's show 3-2-1 Contact.

I loved that show...what an awesome way to get kids involved in science and discover their surrounding world.

I love that show and love what I am doing right now...even though it can be T-E-D-I-O-U-S!

For your viewing pleasure:

Some things I heard

I'd like to comment further on what Jason Whitlock said in an interview for the Today show.

Mr. Whitlock said something of the sorts as ..."Jesse Jackson and Al Sharpton asked for forgiveness when they morally failed ..."

My question to Al Sharpton and Jesse Jackson--both ministers of the faith that esteems reconciliation--have they first sought to forgive and set in place the steps toward reconciliation? Have they forgiven Don Imus?

If so, are the steps they are taking done so with the intent of reconciliation with Imus and others hurt?

I agree with Jason Whitlock

Please read entire article

COMMENTARY

Imus isn’t the real bad guy
Instead of wasting time on irrelevant shock jock, black leaders need to be fighting a growing gangster culture.

By JASON WHITLOCK - Columnist

Thank you, Don Imus. You’ve given us (black people) an excuse to avoid our real problem.

You’ve given Al Sharpton and Jesse Jackson another opportunity to pretend that the old fight, which is now the safe and lucrative fight, is still the most important fight in our push for true economic and social equality.

You’ve given Vivian Stringer and Rutgers the chance to hold a nationally televised recruiting celebration expertly disguised as a news conference to respond to your poor attempt at humor.

Thank you, Don Imus. You extended Black History Month to April, and we can once again wallow in victimhood, protest like it’s 1965 and delude ourselves into believing that fixing your hatred is more necessary than eradicating our self-hatred.

The bigots win again....

For the complete story, click here

Haven't Blogged much

I've never been an avid blogger like those who blog every day and sometimes more than once a day. Sometimes I envy those people and other times I don't.

As to why I don't blog as much as I could...should...want to...well, mainly cause I guess I ain't got time. And then, there's the other side -- does what I blog about really mean much? Does it impact the readers? Should it impact my readers? Ah...doesn't matter I guess.

Well, today I am blogging not so my about why I haven't blogged, but rather to post the following tidbit of information my friend Darren has sent me. I find it quite fascinating. And I am an avid, and I do mean avid, proponent of the following behavior.

Here we go.

Taken from "Why Do Men Have Nipples?"...

*On the average, a fart is composed of about 59% nitrogen, 21% hydrogen, 9% carbon dioxide, 7% methane, and 4% oxygen. Less than 1% of its makeup is what makes it stink.

*The temperature of a fart at time of creation is 98.6F.

*Farts have been clocked at a speed of 10 feet per second.

*A person farts about a half a liter of farts a day.

*Women fart as much as men.

*The gas that makes farts stink is hydrogen sulfide. The more sulfur rich your diet, the more they will stink. Foods that cause this are beans, cabbage, cheese, soda, & eggs

*Most people fart about 14 times a day.

Smell you all later!

Long time friend...New blogger

Hello all, please welcome a good friend of mine who is new to blogging.

He's a former teacher now turned property management paper pusher; He's smart, funny and witty, and writes three different topical blogs. They are:

1. http://wewowr.blogspot.com/
I will be writing when I feel it's worth it. Hopefully you will think it's worth reading.

2. http://ripsbooks.blogspot.com/
rip's books

3. http://www.exercisingdemons.com/
Exercising demons -- Writing and Proofreading Tips

Check his blogs out when you have a chance.

Later.

And thanks.

SAD DAY FOR TECH GEEKS

John W. Backus, 82, Fortran Developer, Dies

By STEVE LOHR, The NY Times
Published: March 20, 2007

John W. Backus, who assembled and led the I.B.M. team that created Fortran, the first widely used programming language, which helped open the door to modern computing, died on Saturday at his home in Ashland, Ore. He was 82.

His daughter Karen Backus announced the death, saying the family did not know the cause, other than age.

Fortran, released in 1957, was “the turning point” in computer software, much as the microprocessor was a giant step forward in hardware, according to J.A.N. Lee, a leading computer historian.

Fortran changed the terms of communication between humans and computers, moving up a level to a language that was more comprehensible by humans. So Fortran, in computing vernacular, is considered the first successful higher-level language.

Mr. Backus and his youthful team, then all in their 20s and 30s, devised a programming language that resembled a combination of English shorthand and algebra. Fortran, short for Formula Translator, was very similar to the algebraic formulas that scientists and engineers used in their daily work. With some training, they were no longer dependent on a programming priesthood to translate their science and engineering problems into a language a computer would understand.

In an interview several years ago, Ken Thompson, who developed the Unix operating system at Bell Labs in 1969, observed that “95 percent of the people who programmed in the early years would never have done it without Fortran.”

He added: “It was a massive step.”

Fortran was also extremely efficient, running as fast as programs painstakingly hand-coded by the programming elite, who worked in arcane machine languages. This was a feat considered impossible before Fortran. It was achieved by the masterful design of the Fortran compiler, a program that captures the human intent of a program and recasts it in a way that a computer can process.

In the Fortran project, Mr. Backus tackled two fundamental problems in computing — how to make programming easier for humans, and how to structure the underlying code to make that possible. Mr. Backus continued to work on those challenges for much of his career, and he encouraged others as well.

“His contribution was immense, and it influenced the work of many, including me,” Frances Allen, a retired research fellow at I.B.M., said yesterday.

Mr. Backus was a bit of a maverick even as a teenager. He grew up in an affluent family in Wilmington, Del., the son of a stockbroker. He had a complicated, difficult relationship with his family, and he was a wayward student.

In a series of interviews in 2000 and 2001 in San Francisco, where he lived at the time, Mr. Backus recalled that his family had sent him to an exclusive private high school, the Hill School in Pennsylvania.

“The delight of that place was all the rules you could break,” he recalled.

After flunking out of the University of Virginia, Mr. Backus was drafted in 1943. But his scores on Army aptitude tests were so high that he was dispatched on government-financed programs to three universities, with his studies ranging from engineering to medicine.

After the war, Mr. Backus found his footing as a student at Columbia University and pursued an interest in mathematics, receiving his master’s degree in 1950. Shortly before he graduated, Mr. Backus wandered by the I.B.M. headquarters on Madison Avenue in New York, where one of its room-size electronic calculators was on display.

When a tour guide inquired, Mr. Backus mentioned that he was a graduate student in math; he was whisked upstairs and asked a series of questions Mr. Backus described as math “brain teasers.” It was an informal oral exam, with no recorded score.

He was hired on the spot. As what? “As a programmer,” Mr. Backus replied, shrugging. “That was the way it was done in those days.”

Back then, there was no field of computer science, no courses or schools. The first written reference to “software” as a computer term, as something distinct from hardware, did not come until 1958.

In 1953, frustrated by his experience of “hand-to-hand combat with the machine,” Mr. Backus was eager to somehow simplify programming. He wrote a brief note to his superior, asking to be allowed to head a research project with that goal. “I figured there had to be a better way,” he said.

Mr. Backus got approval and began hiring, one by one, until the team reached 10. It was an eclectic bunch that included a crystallographer, a cryptographer, a chess wizard, an employee on loan from United Aircraft, a researcher from the Massachusetts Institute of Technology and a young woman who joined the project straight out of Vassar College.

“They took anyone who seemed to have an aptitude for problem-solving skills — bridge players, chess players, even women,” Lois Haibt, the Vassar graduate, recalled in an interview in 2000.

Mr. Backus, colleagues said, managed the research team with a light hand. The hours were long but informal. Snowball fights relieved lengthy days of work in winter. I.B.M. had a system of rigid yearly performance reviews, which Mr. Backus deemed ill-suited for his programmers, so he ignored it. “We were the hackers of those days,” Richard Goldberg, a member of the Fortran team, recalled in an interview in 2000.

After Fortran, Mr. Backus developed, with Peter Naur, a Danish computer scientist, a notation for describing the structure of programming languages, much like grammar for natural languages. It became known as Backus-Naur form.

Later, Mr. Backus worked for years with a group at I.B.M. in an area called functional programming. The notion, Mr. Backus said, was to develop a system of programming that would focus more on describing the problem a person wanted the computer to solve and less on giving the computer step-by-step instructions.

“That field owes a lot to John Backus and his early efforts to promote it,” said Alex Aiken, a former researcher at I.B.M. who is now a professor at Stanford University.

In addition to his daughter Karen, of New York, Mr. Backus is survived by another daughter, Paula Backus, of Ashland, Ore.; and a brother, Cecil Backus, of Easton, Md.

His second wife, Barbara Stannard, died in 2004. His first marriage, to Marjorie Jamison, ended in divorce.

It was Mr. Backus who set the tone for the Fortran team. Yet if the style was informal, the work was intense, a four-year venture with no guarantee of success and many small setbacks along the way.

Innovation, Mr. Backus said, was a constant process of trial and error.

“You need the willingness to fail all the time,” he said. “You have to generate many ideas and then you have to work very hard only to discover that they don’t work. And you keep doing that over and over until you find one that does work.”

Click here for The Ny Times

Happy Birthday, me

Today, 31 years ago, at approximately 10:23 a.m., I sprouted my head and came into this world.

Here's to me and my birthday and the terrible head cold I'm suffering with.

Yippee! Ouch....

Happy

Its so nice to be here working in the county. It really is cool and find myself happy.

Even though it is only the second day, I like it. I know with time it will get busier, and that's okay...I'm really happy to be here.

If I were to sum up how I feel, I'd say I feel like a Regina Spektor song -- all over the place and happy and content.

Summer

Days of isolation
Hot, warm, sunny, weather

Fresh cut grass, sweet water aroma smell
Windows rolled down, sweat rolls down my cheek

Days of remembrance, take me to a place of isolation
Days of sovereign solitude, days free from pain

To remember those, what a joy...and...what pain

Mercy me, the grace that thou have for me

I remember the days of fresh cut grass, sweet water aroma smell
Windows rolled down, sweat rolling down my check

Days of youth-hood, not many cares or trouble...
Far from me today, far from me...today...

Thanks to Jeremiah for showing me this

I so dig her ...

Reminders

I glanced at a quick online ad today and it reminded me of sister. Although it wasn't her, it prompted me to google her name to see what would come up.

I found an article written about her death by a reporter at the RJ.

I read the article and think, "that's not my sister". Then again, yes, it is.

Here's the article:

Sunday, April 14, 2002
Copyright © Las Vegas Review-Journal
COLUMN: John L. Smith

Questions linger on cause of death of renowned Las Vegas model Hill


Model Martie Hill was a genuine showstopper, the kind of stunning young woman whose face and figure could snarl traffic and make strong hearts flutter.

Her beauty was rivaled only by her determination to succeed as a model and, later, as an art broker. She worked in New York and Los Angeles but was most successful in Las Vegas, where for years her image was ubiquitous. As a teen-ager, she was a Las Vegan magazine cover girl and won a string of beauty contests from Miss Legs of Las Vegas to Miss Star Body to Miss English Leather. The jobs poured in, and she rarely passed up an opportunity.

Whether in television commercials or on billboards, Martie was everywhere.

"She was beautiful, smart, funny and very Christian when I knew her," former model Donna Baldwin recalls. Given Hill's drive, friends and family figured there wasn't anything their Martie couldn't do if she put her mind to it.

At 40, Hill still was modeling but concentrating more on art brokering and developing her own business. By all appearances, her life still held the limitless potential of her youth.

But instead of appearing on a marquee or in a list of successful businesswomen, Martie Hill was found dead last month down on Hoover Street in the middle of a neighborhood notorious for its sidewalk drug sales.

Her body was discovered March 20 wrapped in a blanket and placed in the passenger seat of her BMW 700 IL. Her arms were constrained in the blanket, and her shoes were missing. Her cell phone and purse were next to her.

The driver's seat was pushed back to accommodate a person much taller than Hill's 5 feet 4 inches.

North Las Vegas police studied the scene and surmised the obvious: that Hill died elsewhere, was rolled into a blanket and taken to Hoover Street. After a quick inquiry and a few interviews, a detective determined that the case was not a homicide, but a probable drug overdose.

Was Martie Hill really just another Las Vegas beauty gone bad?

Although a toxicology report is incomplete, informed sources say preliminary indications are that Hill died of a cocaine overdose. This surprises her brother, Paul Hill, and a friend, Cliff Behl, because they didn't know her to use cocaine. Friends say she took anxiety medication to relieve a panic disorder and occasionally used marijuana.

"We believe there's more to it than that," Paul Hill says. "Somebody placed her car over there hoping they would think it's just another druggie."

Says Behl, a former fiance, "Drugs? She was almost violently opposed to it."

In fact, no one interviewed for this column reports Hill ever using cocaine. At times a fitness fanatic and devout Christian, she simply wasn't much of a drug user.

"I'm absolutely shocked," longtime friend Paul Murphy says. "I think that would surprise anyone who knows her. It was just not the Martie Hill that I knew very well."

"Martie was just completely against hard drugs," says Kendra Crosby, a friend of six years. "She just felt no need for them."

They also wonder why police, who admittedly have plenty of homicide cases pending, only briefly questioned Hill's roommate, Jeff Loth. He had known Hill a short time and moved into her Lakes home March 1. My attempts to reach Loth were unsuccessful.

Michele Barnes roomed with Hill for nine years.

"She was loved by a lot of people, and she had the biggest heart," Barnes says. "She helped so many people, and she always tried to see the good in everybody. She was a friend to everyone."

What about hard drugs?

"Never," Barnes says.

At Hill's funeral, people from every strata of Las Vegas life assembled. The service overflowed with family and friends. Casino bosses sent flowers, and the outpouring of affection was overwhelming.

Afterward, those friends and family members were left with aching, unanswered questions about her death.

This is certain: There is a witness to her final moments. Someone she knew drove her body down to Hoover Street. That person also knew the neighborhood's reputation.

That doesn't necessarily add up to homicide, but it does add to the mystery surrounding the death of a Las Vegas showstopper.

John L. Smith's column appears Tuesday, Wednesday, Friday and Sunday. E-mail him at jsmith@reviewjournal.com or call him at 383-0295.

The feeling of ...

I don't mind being on crunch time. But I hate the feeling of being on crunch time while totally lost and frustrated.

Crunch time is good, unless of course you get too much of it. And if that be the case, then one of two things is happening, well maybe three:

1. you're a glutton for crunch time.
2. you're repeatedly forced into crunch time by work, family, life, etc...
3. you're a procrastinator ... and therefore, you suck!

I must admit that I am, at least for today, a combo of number 3 and 1. But now that I think of it, 1 and 3 are pretty darn similar.

Damn it...I'm a sucky glutton!


Waiting Anticipatively

There are some cool things brewing in the background. Once I find out if they are a go or no go, I'll let you know.

If you feel lead, please pray - although you don't know what it is - pray that it would happen if it be his will.


7 months

My lovely wife reminded me this morning via IM that we have hit our 7 month weeding anniversary.

I'm making her dinner this evening. Too bad she won't get home till 7 p.m. :-(


Jeremiah Smith

Any other week I would call him a "punk, jerk face". But this week, I envy him. The man with the killer job is 'working' in Australia this week. While he counts cards and scratches Wilda beasts on their behind, I'm stuck in Vegas counting lines of code and scratching my own behind.

I kinda miss him. Hurry home, mate.

I want that crab!

Elevator

As I took the elevator to the third floor, I smell something slightly foul and uncomfortably familiar.

As the elevator putted along I wonder what that smell could be. I believed it was either vomit or old chicken parmigiana heavy ladded with smelly parmigiana cheese.

After the elevator stopped, I walked up to the waiting room front desk counter. Sitting at the end of the counter was an open bag of cheese popcorn.

I guess that was it.

Jeb Bush
The last person I'd vote for as President of the United States.


John McCain
Most likely the first person I'd vote for as President of the United States


John Edwards and Barrack Obama
People that I like but whom I feel our country is not ready for just yet. Maybe 2012.

Bill Gates and V for Vendetta

Two weeks ago I officially began my journey into Mr. Bill Gates' world of Microsoft. I'm currently enrolled in the IT academy at UNLV which is a Microsoft partner. I'm taking a series of seven courses that will give the experience and education to help get me certified as a Microsoft Certified Systems Engineer.

So far I really like the classes. The professor is good. He's got several accreditations and tons of hands-on experience. Being with him and the other students has been good. I'm also liking the class make-up and structure. With the exception of two peeople, all the students in the class are currently in IT. The cool thing is that many of the people are in the business and have proven themselves exponentially. However, they also see the benefit of taking these preparatory classes. That makes me more comfortable in dropping xK dollars for these classes. I'm relieved :-)

On another front, this past weekend MaryAnn, my mom and I watch V for Vendetta. I was impressed. It blew my expectations. I had expected the movie to be about some masked man going around killing people in the future. But to the contrary, that's not what the movie was about. It was actually very good and had obviously some great affects, and a really good story and some great acting.

I would liken V for Vendetta as a mix between The Matrix and 1984 (the movie).

Great photo. Great food.

I love octopus!

My Favorite Movies
Damn you Myspace

Ever since I joined myspace I've been nagged to figure out what 'my favorite' movies are. The reason being is that on my myspace profile, there is a section to list the titles of my favorite movies. So, ever since joining myspace, I've been trying to figure out what my fav's are.

After much thought and deliberation, please find below 'my favortie' movies -- or at least a partial list -- in no particular order:

Pirates of Silicon Valley

Finding Forester

Antwone Fisher

Goodwill Hunting

Barry Gordy's The Last Dragon

Dead Poets Society

The Matrix (1st and 3rd, not the second)

The War At Home

The Rock

La Babamba

Napolean Dynomite

The Sum of All Fear

Stand and Deliver

Philadelphia

The Island

Big Fish

Will someone please buy me this calendar?





To my Republican friends: this was in jest.

Prunes

I've been on this new diet for 9 days now--no, its not an all prune diet.

My diet consists of mostly organic meats, poultry, vegetables, fruits and nuts.

I'm called, however, to be completely wheat-free, dairy-free and grain-free.

I cheat a little though. Black coffee is tar to me, so I covet my half-and-half.

Since my food options are limited, I eat all sorts of fruits. Which brings me to prunes. I am finding that prunes' side-affects are 'multiple' bowl movements. Typically, I wouldn't mind: extra gas means more farts, more farts means more things to chuckle at.

However, there comes a time in a man's life when he is just plain tired of wiping his arse -- common...five bowl movements in one day. And worst yet, they day isn't even over yet.

I guess I may have to become prune-free too.

Crap!

Selling my car, going back to school

I've decided to sell my car.

If anyone is interested or knows someone who is interested in an Acura TL, 2004 w/ Navigation, automatic transmission, Granite Green exterior, Tan Leather interior, please let me know.

I haven't posted anything official yet on craigslist or elsewhere, but will being do so shortly.

I hope to use part of the money to payoff classes I'm taking towards the MCSE certification (Microsoft Certified Systems Engineer). With the remaining portion of money, I will put toward a nice used car.

Finally got an add!

A while ago I reluctantly joined myspace by creating my own page.

Since that time, I pursued one individual time after time to add me to his 'friend's list'. After many 'add me as a friend' requests, and an email asking to be added as a friend, I have been confirmed as a friend.

The person who runs the myspace page that I wanted in on is not the same person who the page is about.

The page I wanted so dearly to be on, because I respect his music so much, is "Israel Kamakawiwo'ole", also known as 'Bruddah Iz'

When you have a chance, take a listen to his stuff: http://www.myspace.com/israelkamakawiwoole

Oh, and to the person who finally added me -- thank you!

Rumsfeld Resigns

Early reports coming in say that an announcement will be given in a few minutes.

From 3 months to 1.5 months

Admittedly, going 1.5 months without blogging is a long time, but you can agree -- at least I hope -- that it is much better than going 3 months without blogging.

Our New Perro

To all those who submitted entries, thank you.

For those of you who wanted 'esteban'-- thank you -- unfortunately, you entry was not chosen. But please don't dispair, you're still a winner!

In case you have forgotten what the prize is, allow me to remind you:

* Grand Prize: Lifetime membership in babysitting our dog.

* Other prize winners: same prize as Grand Prize Winner.

Congratulations to all who participated!


What's That Doggy's Name in the Window?

We went for a real storng mexican name. We named him Nicolas Cage.


"'Nicolas cage', what type of damn hell name is that -- that's no mexican name?"

I know...I know...at the onset, Nicolas Cage doesn't seem 'too' mexican. But before you get your chones (spanish slang for underwear) all bunched up, I present to you this:

Nicholas Cage, the actor, is a "fine, handsome, specimen of a man", in my mother's eyes. We think she has secret crush on him--she watches all of his movies.

So, as a joke, we name him Nicolas Cage, but we call him 'Nico' for short.

Plus, we figured that 'Nico' sounds fairly mexican.

Three Months?

Time gapes me.

How insensitive! Not attending to my blog, what a shame.

But is it really the fault of time? Can time really be blamed? Or should I point the finger at myself? Can I be blamed for this?

Probably not.

The culprit, here, is unconventional. I blame my wife. Its all her fault.

There, I said it. Its my wife's fault. She is to blame for this.


Perros Calientes

"Last night, in a shaddy parking lot, of an East Las Vegas Jr. High school, our transaction went down.

She meet us there, with prodcut in hand.

We weren't sure what to expect. We questioned whether or not the product was legit. How many times do you actually get quality from a one-marked vouch proprietor?

Thank the lord, the prodcut was good. It looked clean and smelled sweet.

We were lucky. All things could have gone to hell. With cops and other consumers all around. We were lucy that no one screwed the pooch."

-------

The above rant is one of the many musings in my mind. Its all a rouse just to say, we got a new dog!

Here are some pixs:










Name that Dog

Yes, folks....we need helpnaming that dog. The dog doesn't have a name yet.

Feel free to pass along some suggestions. There are only three criterias:

1. the name must be a strong mexican name and must be in spanish
2. It's a boy dog, so please only suggest boy names.
3. We are under no obligation to accept the name provided to us, but if we do accept a suggested name, the suggestor will win one free "babysit the Avendano's dog, sitting session."


Name on!

Is it really her fault?

Okay, okay. Its not my wife's fault that I have not blogged in the last three months. I made it up. Sorry, honey.

The truth is, its the Dog's fault!

Enjoying maui, part II

Its a lazy afternoon here in maui. Which was needed after this morning's sunrise tour to the volcano.

I wish I could say we were up at the butt crack of dawn, but to do so is a huge understatement.

This morning we got up at the crack of the butt crack of dawn. At 2:00 am we were up and getting ready to meet our tour guide in the lobby of the hotel.

1 hour later we were at a local convinence store buying coffee and looking for a snack to eat.

After settling for some boring pastry next to the donought island we made our way to the counter. And while paying, to my surprise, I got the biggest treat of my early morning life. Behind the counter were piping hot fresh Manapuas.

I couldn't believe it, this convinent store had fresh manapuas.

I love me some manapuas.

If you don't know what manapuas are let me explain.

Manapuas are white in color and resemble pizza dough balls prior to being cooked. However, manapuas are fully cooked and in the center of them are filled with one of many fillings. The one I had this morning had a traditional filling of pork.

Bitting into a manapua has no comparisson. Although I will say this, the meat filling is fabulous and the dough salty and sweet flavor.

I didn't share any of my manapua with MaryAnn, altough she did offe me some of the pastry we bought. I didn't see the need to offer since she probalt wouldn't have like it anyways. Nonetheles, why chance it to only find out she really does like 'em? Then I'm stuck trading half of my manapua for some day old stale pastry.

-- Ramon

P.S. The sunrise and the volcano were cool, we got lots of pictures.

--------------------------
Ramon Avendano
via BlueBerry

Enjoying maui

We are in our second day in maui and are enjoying the traditionally popular event: relaxing in a cabana on the beach in front of our hotel.

Sex is GOOD.

More details to come.

--------------------------
Ramon Avendano
via BlueBerry

Desires

I told MaryAnn the other day that I want to learn to play the piano. I think deep down-inside me, I believe, I have a hidden talent -- a prodigy, of sorts.

Now, I'm not saying I'm a prodigy. But I have a craving and yearning to deeply express myself via the piano.

There's something mysterious about engaging your whole body, mind and soul into an activity that when done right, produces some phenomenal music.


Saturday (June 17) is 4 days away

Four days and counting...

Since our wedding date has approached the 'days' instead of the 'months', I've been keeping a running count.

Today is precisely four days away till I marry her and she marries me.


A future Hope

The future hope of us getting married is so soon and so far away. These last few days seem to wallow in drudgery. And in turn, these last four days seem "to soon" to get married.

This future hope of marriage is a ubiquitous euphoria that one day will realize itself. To get to that day requires work. Some of that work has been joyful. Other parts have been tedious.

My running count of joyful vs. tedious right now has tedious winning 5 to 1.

Now before I get strung up by my toes for making such an "insensitive" remark...I say as Jesus said:

"A woman giving birth to a child has pain because her time has come; but when her baby is born she forgets the anguish because of her joy that a child is born into the world."

So, we too will forgot our 'tedious' pains of getting married and then one day soon celebrate with joy!

12 days

Some days are easy, some days are hard.

Its hard for me to completely comprehend that we...that...I...are...am...getting married.

I know we are getting married, but it is hard for me to comprehend that we are getting married.

12 days remain. I know there is great beauty ahead. And I know there is hardship ahead as well.

There is joy and there is pain.

I stand at the crest, dawning a new time.

I think of the disciples becoming disciples, for the first time since their natural birth they would know a new life -- one packed with joy and pain.

 

I'm sure they welcomed they joy and squirmed off the idea of pain. But as they grew in Christ, they somehow, God-led, welcomed the pain.

 

Us too. May we welcome the joy and may we not dwell on the future pains. Rather, may we accept them and deal with them as they come.

 

This I need help in.
 

Where to start?

Today was better than yesterday.

Yesterday was filled with much anxiety, fear and just plain believing some lies. I often forget God's words in trying times. And at times, I fail to put God's word into practice.

Life.

The last 10 monts have brought some great joy and some trying times. Since August:

- We sold my house by UNLV

- MaryAnn and I got engaged

- We've been planning a fat wedding -- fat to be understand as "damn...this is hard, overwhelming stuff"

- We've bought a new house

- We've been furnishing the new house

- We've moved MaryAnn in

- We had some hard fights, but well-learned lessons

- We've come to love each other so much more

- We get married in 18 days


Car accident.

The new car is out of commision for another 15 days.

On Friday, May 12, some guy wasn't watching and rear-ended me on the intersection of Green Valley Parkway and the I-215.

As of yet, a rental car has not been provided by his insurance. But thank God, my mother allows me to drive her boat (Mercury Grand Marqui)

Dinner tonight.

This evening I'm having dinner with MaryAnn and some guy she was 'Best Friends' with in High School. She hasn't seen him since high school and was recently reunited with him.

I'm told that there was nothing ever romantic, but I'm curious to see how things play out this evening. I'm sure he's a nice guy, but what if he comes out and says "I need to tell you that ...." -- you fill in the blanks.

But like I said, I'm sure it'll be fine. Really, I'm sure he is cool.

Nonetheless, we are having dinner at one of my favorite cuban places. 'Rincon Criollo' has the best Cuban food at the best prices.

Immigration Issue

In light of it, please remember, we are human.

Here is a spanish song by the group Mana that I have translated.

Pobre Juan

Juan se lanzo marchandose al norte
iba en busca de una vida digna
cruzando Mexico por valles y por montes
iba Juan lleno de fe.

La historia es que Juan se iba a casar
con Maria embarazada
pero el no tenia ni un centavo
ni un clavo que darle.

Pero este Juan iba muy decidido
y a la frontera el llego con todo el filo.

Se conecto con el mero mayor de los coyotes
y la historia le conto:

Mire usted que yo quiero cruzarme ya
a San Diego o Chicago,
digame usted lo que hago
que precio le pago.

Juan ya nunca regreso,
en la linea se quedo,
pobre Juan
o la migra lo mato
o el desierto lo enterro,
pobre Juan.

Oh, oh, oh, oh

Juan le enseno al coyote
una foto de Maria
con la cual se casaria,
le prometio que el regresaria
para formar todo un hogar.

Pero el coyoto a Juan lo traiciono
dejandolo al olvido,
de tres balas se tronaron a Juan,
pobre de Juan,
no regreso

no, oh.

Juan ya nunca regreso,
en la linea se quedo,
pobre Juan
o la migra lo mato
o el desierto lo enterro,
pobre Juan
y Maria lo fue a buscar
y ella nunca lo encontro,
desaparecio,

oh...

Poor Juan

Juan marched north
he sought a dignified life
crossing Mexico's mountains and valleys
full of faith Juan went

The story is that he was to be married
with Maria pregnant
he had not one cent in his pocket
nor one pot, nor window

But our Juan, determined, he went
He arrived at the border amongst all the others in line

Talking to the best of the best Coyotes, Juan told his story:

"Understand, I want to cross
to San Diego or Chicago, I don't care
tell me what I should do
what must I pay?"

Juan never returned
at the border he stayed
Poor Juan
Immigration killed him
the desert swallowed his body
Poor Juan

Oh, oh, oh, oh

Juan showed the Coyote
a photo of Maria
the one he is to marry,
he promised to return
establishing a new home

But the Coyote betrayed Juan
Forgetting about Juan
with three bullets they shoot Juan
Poor Juan
he did not return

oh, no.

Juan never returned
at the border he stayed
Poor Juan
Immigracion killed him
the earth ate his body
Poor Juan
And Maria went looking for him,
never finding him, he disappeared,
oh...

As a side note:

If certain legislation is passed, I guees I might become a felon.

My father was illgeal at one time and I aided him.

Do I get to go to jail for that?

If so, bring it on!

Mariachi Band?

I'm looking for one that is reasonably priced and available June 17, 2006.

Please do not send me any leads that will cost me $850/hr.

Thanks.

Ramon

Missing my father
Johnny Cash, Hurt

On an island of all bequeath things

I stand along with thee

You sit with me

a cloud of witnessing things

How could it be

arrived on an island of all bequeath things

The road you traveled landed me here

I'm surrounded by water

I look to the sky to see the stars

You've bequeath me to this island

traversing the desert you landed me here

The island I stand

nothing in common with the desert you traveled

traversed, two million miles away

I look up to the sky

There the star that shined

All the same

When you were alive

Sitting in the car

you told me that you were sorry

Sorry for not giving more than what you did

How could I ask for me --

although I myself thought wanted more

All I need is you

you are not the one who sat in the recliner this morning

who does he think he is

He has no idea of what he did
he has no idea of what he did

You are the one to sit in the chair
you are the one to sit in the chair

No one else can sit there

How he dare.

MySpace

I don't know why I did this, but I did.

Here you go: click here

Very good wine

Rosa regale sparkling red (Italy)
--------------------------
Ramon Avendano
via BlueBerry

Today I am 30

30 years ago this day around 10 a.m. I was born :-)

Am I supposed to make a speech since I am 30 now?

Happy Birthday, me!

Makes me sad

I was making a lunch run today and ran into friend/aquantense of my brother's.

He made some comments that were odd for him. Although he has never spoken ill of my brother to me, today, he had something nice to say about my brother. But, he said it in a slightly depricating tone, that as I drove back to the office it hit me--this guy is depressed.

It makes me sad that he is depressed. I've know him for many years.

Its easy to spot someone who is depressed, when you yourself have been depressed.

I need to pray for him. He is Jewish by culture and is agnostic by religion.

I pray for the healing of his heart, mind and soul. I pray that all blinding factors be removed. I pray for his soul to be free and lifted of malice. And that repentance be the condition of his heart. I pray for a grace that props him up like the ocean props up ships.

Proposed. Engagement.

I was told today by one of my co-workers that I now have a fiancé.

"Interesting and scary", I thought. Just 24-hours ago I had a girlfriend.

Last night I gave the talk/sermon/talk at the gathering. I spoke on faith.

The main idea of the talk was to look at the perspective of faith...not the idea of faith, but rather, the object of our faith -- Jesus.

I'm not quite sure how good of a job I did. There were a few moments where I blundered and forgot to say some things. In addition, I'm not sure how effective the talk was, so I'm not quite sure how well it was received. My hope was that it hit the home of everyone's heart. If that happened, then I am happy.

Last night's talk had two purposes: give a talk on faith and then make a transition to propose to MaryAnn in presence of our community.

Toward the end of my talk, I spoke on the idea of faith and marriage--and my internal/mental struggles with it. As I made the transition into that realm, I asked MaryAnn to stand up and look toward the back on the sanctuary. At first she was reluctant and asked "why". I responded with "just turn around."

When she did, she saw her entire family sitting in the last row. That was one of my gifts to her. I thought it to be a good to sneak her family into the sanctuary and be present for the proposal.

Upon seeing her family, she immediately knew what was coming next. But instead of proposing to her, I continued talking a wee-bit longer. I proceeded to thank Greg for the opportunity and then spoke to the crowd. In the mean while, MaryAnn was on the edge of her seat--rooting me on--to hurry up with the proposal. It was actually quite cute.

So, then, I said, walking toward her, "I've never done this before ... umm...MaryAnn, can I have your hand in marriage."

I'm thankful she said yes. Phew!

2 funerals and 1 hospital visit

The last two weeks have brought two deaths and one hospital visit.

The first death was a young gentlmen who lived across the street. At the age of 33 he died of a massive heart attack. He leaves one son behind who will now most likely struggle whith what it means not having a father.

The second death is my boss' mother. She died after a 12 year battle with Alzyhimers. Year after year she got progressively worse. And last tuesday, she succomed to her illness. Here is a link on the LV Sun website regarding her life -- clik here.

Over the weekend, Emily (MaryAnn's sister), had emergency gallbladder surgery. After the long hours in the ER, being sent home at 3 a.m.--only to come back hours later--she is one organ less and is resting well.

A new identity

For a while I have been wanting to change my blog name to truly and more accurately reflect my true self.

It has been a long, treacherous and joyful journey with Jesus. And the time has come to make a change in my blog name.

It may not seem like a big deal ... or rather, it may seem like a petty or stupid thing to do. But I think its crucial.

My new blog name will now be: Proliferating Santos

Previously, it was Proliferating menzos -- which is an anglo/spanish combinational term meaing "multiplying dummies".

I don't think I ever considered myself a dummy, altough sometimes I sure felt like one. But even a greater tragedy, is that, I believed its spiritual synonymical counterpart: worthless, ignoramous, artificial, fake, false, etc.

Although I haven't come full circle in embracing my true identity as a Santo (Saint), I do know that continually I will try to engage what God says and thinks of me.

And exactly what is a Santo? A Santo is "one separated from the world and consecrated to God; one holy by profession and by covenant; a believer in Christ." (Ps. 16:3; Rom. 1:7; 8:27; Phil. 1:1; Heb. 6:10).

Sometimes ... alot if times ... I am wrong

I'm realizing that I am miss hearing things as of late and am reacting in poor ways.

To MaryAnn, I am sorry for failing to be quick to listen and slow to speak.

To my mother, I am sorry for failing to be quick to listen and slow to speak.

Father, thank you for forgiving me. May your kind, healing, loving hand be upon me.

Ramon

The last time

I was with a co-worker today visiting a nursing home. My co-worker has a friend that desperately needs to get into a licensed, nursing facility, where he'll get true treatment.

On the way back from the facility, we talked a little about my father and how his situation parallels her friends situation. As I shared with her my last time helping my father from the couch to his wheelchair to his bed, I explained that I treated him with such care--unbeknownst to me--that this was my last time doing this. I explained how I handled my father with absolute care and went the extra mile for him.

As I pondered our conversation a few minutes ago, sitting here at my desk, I tearfully realized that my God, my Father, My Lord, caused me to care for him in such a diligent manner, contradicting any and all other incidents where I was not as patient or generous or loving as I could have been.

I am thankful that I have this glimpse now but need to ponder on it much deeper. It needs to sink into me much deeper.

Malinche

"Go with your daddy" coos my mother, as she gently strokes her body. As the evening came upon us, our dog laid her head on her paws and drifted into a deep sleep. This evening we put our dog to sleep, her name is Malinche.

As the nurses prep our dog's catheter, I stand in the hallway waiting for them to call us back into the room. Standing and waiting, leaning against the wall, I close my eyes and pray. Speaking to God, not being able to find any verses in the bible about dog's departing earth and heading to heaven, I ask God, that if possible, to please allow her into heaven. For I reason, what wrong has this dog done, that to suppose if such a wrong existed to warrant her arrest into Hades, then why shouldn't I ask Father to allow her into heaven.

Praying, and not wanting to be overcome with emotion, I keep my eyes closed, but not immediately realizing that my lips are moving. As one of the nurses walks by, I end my prayer, awaiting for the door to open which will allow us to reunite with Malinche.

Upon the door opening, there lay Malinche looking at us. Her catheter lay firm to her leg, bandaged with fluorescent green tape. Making our way to Malinche, we stroke her body, pat her head and gently tap her snout.

In walks the doctor. Dr. somthing -- I don't recall her name -- is pleasant and explains to us the quick and allegedly painless procedure. Although it maybe painless, and the best we try to not let onto Malinche that what remain ahead for her, are her last breathes, I'm sure she senses that not all is right; so how can it be painless?

After the the doctor tested the line, she procedes to inject -- what seems to be a huge vile of pink fluid -- into Malinche's leg. Not much happens at first but after a few seconds, Malinche begins licking the sides of her mouth. Continuing to lick, she slowly lowers her head down onto her paws. Resting her head onto her paws, Malinche stops licking.

Malinche takes one huge breathe of air into her lungs and then exhales. The doctor slides over to one side of Malinche, placing her stethoscope on her rib cage. As the doctor speaks, telling us that her heart has now stopped, Malinche exhales one final breathe.

Malinche was a good, faithful dog, who was treated well by my mother, and deserved better treatment from me.

She is the type of human friend that all could ever want and all that everyone needs.

I have one picture of her. Its her being held by my father in his arms. May that picture be ever truer now than when it was in the past.

One last belly rub for you Malinche, we love you.

My Pops

Today I think of my father
I'm reminded of him through such a simplistic song
Such a profound song it is, it makes me cry

Somewhere over the rainbow, Israel K sings
His sultry and phonetically clean Hawaiian voice accompanied with his ukelele
transforms this dramatized, distant song, into a captured dream

Israel sings of where my father be

Someday I wish upon the star
wake up where the clouds far behind me
where trouble melts like lemon drops
high above the chimney top that's where you will find me

I see me father calling out to me, reminding me of where he sits
calling me, telling me, he is proud of me...

To write such words fills me
causing the sorrow to flow out of me
mysteriously filling me with both sorrow and joy

How I wish I could re-spend his last days with me over and over again

But to know that he sits high above the chimney top
the place to find him and be with him
I shall strive to live for him
so I can be with him and once again see him

How I wish people could have known my father when he was physically well
What a great man of joy he is and was.

Como te amo y como te quiero

An interesting first

As the lady slipped her arms around me she says, "hold that up to your nipple line"

Nipple Line...what the hell is that. I don't have nipples; girls have nipples!

Today was the first day I went to the gym and actually have a trainer.

See me as Owen Wilson

http://www.weddingcrashersmovie.com/crashthistrailer/index.htm?id=103279

House sold

My house sold today for listing price....yeah!

Let's such hope and pray that this doesn't fall through.

Ramon
--------------------------
Ramon Avendano
via BlueBerry

Re: Fishing in SF Part II

Fishing didn't go as planned.

Originally I was the only who was going to fish, but in the rush this morning I mistakenly bought Maryann a pass to fish.

One mile out to sea, I became violently ill and threw up into the ocean. I have never been so ill my life. I threw up so much and so hard that my throat was raw for the bile. Sorry for the visual.

4 miles out to sea I threw up again but this time I didn't make it to the side of the boat. The plastic bag that maryann gave me saved me. But again, so violent that my throat was shreddeds to pieces.

After our second stop to cast our lines, Captain Joey was hooping-n-hollaring and was banging on the window. He then yells out to maryann and I “you all got a fish”.

I say, “honey, you go.” Maryann sprung to her feet, took the pole from the captain, and then spent 20 minutes realing in a 23 lb Salmon.

Her salmon was so big and beating everyone else out on the boat, she won the pool for the biggest fish. We are now $75 richer.

More to follow later.
--------------------------
Ramon Avendano
via BlueBerry

-----Original Message-----

Our fishing expedition has begun. It is foggy and the temp is good. Will send more details later.
--------------------------
Ramon Avendano
via BlueBerry

Fishing in SF

Our fishing expedition has begun. It is foggy and the temp is good. Will send more details later.
--------------------------
Ramon Avendano
via BlueBerry

Maybe a first

We are sitting in theater waiting for the movie to start and all the sudden the fire alarms goes off.

In a pathetically grinding voice, s woman's voice comes from the speakers “attention please, attention, please...an emergwncy has been reported, an emergency ha been reported.”

This last 20 minutes. Maybe we should have left, but the lights just went off and maryann keeps proding me to turn off my blackbeery.

I hope batman has been worth this wait.

--------------------------
Ramon Avendano
via BlueBerry

One Year

This day, one year ago, in the wee hours of the morning, my Father realized his new kingdom.

This has been one of the hardest years of my life, which says a lot since most other years have been filled with trauma.

I just returned from lunch with a friend/slash co-worker. She remembered that this was my Father's one-year anniversary. As I shared with her my current emotional and spiritual state, I shared the news of the kingdom as well. It was not planned.

One the car ride back to the office I felt slight shame for feeling the way I do and trying to share the kingdom at the same time. And then a thought entered my mind. I was reminded of Jesus being in need of water and in his need he supplied water for woman at the well.

I miss my Father greatly. I miss him even more when I think of all the mistakes I made toward him or the hurts I caused him.

This afternoon I will visit his grave with my mother.

Please think of us. Please pray for us. Please think of my father and his joy.

Thing(s) I will not blog about*

- making fun of my girlfriend

* note: 71 is a great number

Last Call. Late Notice.

this saturday, I along with a few friends are painting the inside of my house.

If anyone who reads this can spare a few hours and can help out a brother, please call me.

My cell number is 580.6919

Here is a link to a map: http://maps.google.com/maps?q=3077+Aldon+Ave,+Las+Vegas,+NV+89121&ll=36.106578,-115.107011&spn=0.021912,0.038482&hl=en

The painitng gig will be between 9 am - 5 pm.

There will be free food...food of choice (within reason of course).

I could really use the help. And if you send me $29.95, I will send you an autograph photo with hugs and kisses.

Don't wait.

This offer expires soon.

Act now or forever be out of luck!

Clarification

Some have asked what I meant when I wrote: "with one quick, unintetional move, a grown man is left in pain."

I thought the wity, clever comment would explain it well. I guess it wasn't that wity or clever, and the explanation didn't come through either.

After explaining the situation in detail to Tommy and Gregg S., Gregg says: "you're supposed to say that you hurt the boys..."


So, leaving you with Gregg's words, what I meant to say is that "I hurt the boys."

Thank you, Gregg.

Ramon

Schools out, Grades are in, Good news!

I am so happy to report that I received A's in both my classes:

World Literature: A
Intro to Computer Science: A

I am so happy and thank God for his blessing in this.

Amen!

Sitting at Dennys studying for my final

With one quick, unintentional move, a grown man is left in pain.
--------------------------
Ramon Avendano
via BlueBerry

What's wrong with that?

Yesterday Maryann and I were running some coaxial cable from the cable splitter to the guest room.

As we're working, she turns to me and says, “I want to go to mt. Charleston next week.” I ask why.

She responds with, “its the one year anniversary of our first date.”

So, I ask, “do I have to go.”

Let's just say, lucky for me, she knew I was half joking...otherwise I would still be working one the cable line.
--------------------------
Ramon Avendano
via BlueBerry

New email Address

Please send emails to my new address:

razor7132 at gmail.com

I can still receive email at my cox.net address, but I thought it best to switch over to gmail.

Thanks.

Ramon

Tid bits

* I've been studying for the last several hours. My study shack for today has been this cubby hole between quiznos and starbucks on sahara and marylandparkway.

* I'm killing time studying waiting for maryann to finish training the $65/hr consultant who is filling in at her old job. Sad thing is, maryann gets paid $15/hr to train the consultant.

* while I've studied today, I've seen and heard six or seven ambulances/fire trucks go by...those things are particularly loud today.

* while I've sat and studied today, I drank down a toxic mixture of low carb sobre and diet coke. Two 32-ounce glasses causes a man too pee excessively.

* Another ambulence just past--this one wasn't as obnoxiously loud.

* I'm writing a crtique on Dante's inferno for my world lierature class. His biblical assumptions and parallism are utterly wrong. We'll see how I do, hopelly I can get an A.

* Its interesting how many groups of people hang out at starbucks.

Peace.
--------------------------
Ramon Avendano
via BlueBerry

You move

You held me through the storm
You walk with me through hell
You showed me that you indeed were tempted and can relate

No temptation is a surprise to you
Nothing overcomes you
Nothing surprises you

I can finally relate
May I always relate

When the day comes that I believe I can't relate
Remind of the day you showed me that you really could relate
--------------------------
Ramon Avendano
via BlueBerry

Smoking coco's

I'm sitting at coco's, the one across the street from unlv.

The air is dense--filled with smoke --coming from the lonely manager sitting way in the back.

Once my food comes and I get some studying done, I flying this coupe.
--------------------------
Ramon Avendano
via BlueBerry

Another test

test

Smelly tests are funny

I laughed when I read Cheryl and Kenny's remarks to my last entry; their remarks were funny.

The reason for the "this is a test" is that I was testing my blog's RSS feed.

Onto the subject of smelly

Kenny Parker ... his last blog entry http://kennyparker.blogspot.com/2005/03/we-have-got-to-get-it-together-we-have.html reminded me of an incident that happened when I was at Wal-mart the other day.

While I was cruising the dog food isle, this old lady walks past me. When she get about 15 feet away, she rips the nastiest fart ever. Thankfully I did not smell anything, but the sound was just horrible and indicating that that puppy was gonna be stinky.

this is a test

Pens

Have you every chewed on the end of a pen for so long that the pen errupts in you mouth?

Ink don't taste too good.

No, this wasn't my first time.

A little late -- 60 to 45

I don't know when it started but one of my defecencies in life is returning rental movies on time.

I'm always late. And with all the late fees I've racked up, I could have bought all of the movies I have rented.

With that said, last saturday I bit the bullet and paid my late charges at blockbusters. My late charges steam prior to blockbuster launching their "no more late charges" policy. Sucky for me.

When I went up to the counter, I informed the girl behind the register that I owed some money and to not hollar out the amount I owe.

She smiled, then proceeded to discount my bill.

So, in appreciation, I say thank you, "J".

Ramon

Fortunate Son

I like this song -- no, it is not my way to protest the war, I just like the song.

Some folks are born made to wave the flag,
Ooh, they’re red, white and blue.
And when the band plays hail to the chief,
Ooh, they point the cannon at you, lord,

It ain’t me, it ain’t me, I ain’t no senator’s son, son.
It ain’t me, it ain’t me; I ain’t no fortunate one, no,

Yeah!
Some folks are born silver spoon in hand,
Lord, don’t they help themselves, oh.
But when the taxman comes to the door,
Lord, the house looks like a rummage sale, yes,

It ain’t me, it ain’t me, I ain’t no millionaire’s son, no.
It ain’t me, it ain’t me; I ain’t no fortunate one, no.

Some folks inherit star spangled eyes,
Ooh, they send you down to war, lord,
And when you ask them, how much should we give?
Ooh, they only answer more! more! more! yoh,

It ain’t me, it ain’t me, I ain’t no military son, son.
It ain’t me, it ain’t me; I ain’t no fortunate one, one.

It ain’t me, it ain’t me, I ain’t no fortunate one, no no no,
It ain’t me, it ain’t me, I ain’t no fortunate son, no no no,

Today is my Birhtday

Happy Birthday, me.

I'm 29 today.

A Weighty Truth

In my pursuit to lose weight, I'm sad to report that I actually gained 4 pounds.

My co-workers subtly shunned me. I could see it in their faces.

I am sadden.

The truth is I have not been diligent with my plan. In regards to food, its been a 90% effort. The occasional late night snacking mixed with eatting massive amounts of carbs this weekend did not help cause at today's weigh-in.

On the exercise front, I'm wracked with disappoint--I am not doing what I said I was going to do. The idea of working out each night has transpired to only three times over the last two weeks.

There's my confession. Now the changing of the mind must succeed.

Meal schedule

I figure it would be a good idea to write down or at least try to keep track of what I eat each day.

so, here it goes ...

Thursday -- 01/13/05
* breakfast - 2 quesidillas on low carb tortilla (8 g / carbs)
* snack - diet coke and powerbar, carb select(2 g / carbs)
* lunch - 1/2 and order of fingers with ranch (2 g / carbs)
* snack - 1/2 and order of fingers with ranch(2 g / carbs)
* dinner - 1.5 servings of low carb spaghetti, salad (10 g / carbs)
* snack - powerbar, carb select (2 g / carbs)

total carbs: 26 g / carbs

Note: I forgot what I ate on wednesday, so I can't post it.

Tuesday -- 01/11/05
* breakfast - 1 ham and egg burrito on low carb tortilla (5 g / carbs)
* snack - Chicharrones [prok rins] (1 g / carbs)
* lunch - 1 ham and egg burrito on low carb tortilla & low-card yogurt (8 g / carbs)
* snack - powerbar, carb select (2 g / carbs)
* dinner -5 chicken thighs, one low carb tortilla and cheese( 5g / carbs)
* snack - 2 cups of half/half with splashes of corn flakes(25 g/ carbs)

total carbs: 46 g / carbs

Note: Too many carbs this day. I had been miscalculated the half/half with splashes of corn flashes -- I'm giving them up.

Monday -- 01/10/05
* breakfast - powerbar, carb select (2 g / carbs)
* snack - half of a low carb chocholate bar (1.5 g / carbs)
* lunch - (3) .99 cent caesar salads frim wendy's (6 g / carbs)
* snack - other half of low carb choch. bar and a powerbar, cab select (3.5 g / carbs)
* dinner - 2 steak, cheese burritos on low carb tortillas (12 g / carbs)
* snack - cup of half/half with some reg. milj with a splash of corn flakes (14g / carbs)

total carbs: 39 g / carbs

Note: I've recalculated my first count of carbs...I was wrong about the half/half with flakes.

Weigh-in

Today 10 of us at VEGAS.com have weighed in, placed our money on the table and got up on the scale.

We have banded together to lose weight and hopefully for the biggest loser make a few bucks.

Yes, the idea partly comes from the TV show "The Biggest Loser", but our main inspiration is health...and the money ain't bad either. Ten people at $100 is 10 benjamins. And we know its all about the benjamins, right?

Yesterday while at Costco on some obscure isle, I weighed myself. Right before getting on the scale I instructed Maryann not to look. She didn't, which I am glad for. The scale broke my heart. But on the flip side, at least I didn't break the scale.

According to yesterday's weigh in I am pushing 242 pounds. But at today's weigh in, using two different scales, I registered at 233. I'm somewhat happy that both scales said 233 cause that means I don't weigh 242.

Nonetheless, I have 40 pounds to lose in 3 months. I know that sounds a little extreme, but in high school I did loose 50 pounds in three months. And over 11 years gained it all back plus some.

I want to loose 40 pounds not so much for the money, rather for the health aspect. If I loose 40 pounds and don't win the money that is okay because that means one of my other co-workers lost more than I did.

The way the contest works is based off the percentage of weight you loose. For example, If I weigh 233 and loose 40 pounds, that's 17 percent of my body weight. Not bad.

Now the wild card in this contest is if our largest co-worker looses 76.5 pounds. With that, he ties my percentage. All he needs to do then is loose 77.5 pounds and he beats me.

There are few others who are +/- 10 pounds of where I am at. They will be good competitors and may even surpass me which is cool.

Come Sunday, April 10, 2005, I hope to be 40 pounds lighter or near that.

My strategy

A realistic workout plan: situps and girlie pushups along with an evening brisk walk.

My eating workout: 5 or 6 meals a day, low carb.

Suggestions

If you have any suggestions or concerns, feel free to post 'em. If you want to invite me to go work out, please do. But one favor I do ask, please do not invite to a buffet.

Here's to weight loss and a healthy life.

Peace!

I need a haircut -- the big afro guys is me

Movements Part II

The paperwork has been sign, so it must be official.

Starting Jan 17, 2005, I begin working reduced hours in an effort to pursue a Master's Degree in Management Information Systems (MIS).

My first day of class is January 19. In order to apply for grad school I need to retake two courses that I got bad grades in. And in March, I will hopefully take my GMAT.

I am super excited about this move. Its a win-win situation for my employers and me.

Its a huge, bold move for me and has come via many awesome things coming together.

Father, brothers and sisters are the biggest influencers in making it happen.

I am happy.

Movements Part I ...

Dearest Kate,

It is true that your love is sweeter than ice cream

You make me feel wonderfully neat

Your love is completing...I need to understand that

I want you to know how much I love you

May my actions and deeds speak these words to you...I love you

It has really hit me: I need you, I love you and I want you

I would be be so sad if our journey were to cease

May our paths be together as we sojourn in this land

Then in a glimpse may we find ourselves together in our true completing land

Love,
Jack

To Cedar, Duck Creek and back

I am sure glad to be home.

I know two things for sure: I don't like snowed in cabins and I don't want to go back in the winter time.

The only slightly fun place I have ever been in Utah has been in Park City. Every other place has been very, very boring.

Making my way to Duck Creek I found out that the 14 (its and interstate/highway) was closed due to snow. So, I was stuck in St. George for a night. After securing a room at the Best Western I went to dinner and then went to see Ocean's 12.

The movie sucked, I feel a sleep. There weren't many people in the theater so I sat way in the back. I must have been snoring Real Hard cause the girls 6 rows in front of me moved even further away from me while I was catching some shut-eye.

These girls seemed to be a little perturbed at my snoring. I felt bad that I was snoring but I didn't think it was that bad. But it must have been, cause as I walked to my car one of the girls was giving me a George W scowl.

I am sure glad to be home.

Did I mention I hate the snow?

Michelle and Darren -

you both make me laugh.

:-)