Dreams

I had a dream a couple of weeks ago. I dreamt that my friend Paul W. is moving. The dream was somber and passionate. I need to call him.

I have a dream that one day I will own many restaurants and give to the kingdom and live in the barrio or hood amongst the poor.

I want to give to the kingdom both financially and through my soul.

Ramon

I Feel like an F-ing IDIOT

Argh....

I feel like an idiot because I chewed out one of my dad's nurses. I allowed other things to affect me in a way that prompted me to treat her poorly. I should have indeed been bold with her, but not belligerent nor over the top. Dang it!

How do I make it up to her? How do I apologize? She's due an apology.

Contemplation and self-serving shameless Plug

Today is my birthday. I am 28. Well, actually, at 10:43 a.m. I will be 28.

28 is a number. I don't say that as in "please don't think I am old." Rather, 28 the number doesn't properly capture the previous years lived. The trials, the struggles, the attempts for purity, the cynicism, the torture, the unwanted feelings, the life lived, all reside behind a number.

Today is a good day....well, at least for me it is. Its not good because of the presents or cards. No...... I believe today is good because it is my birthday. I have been given the potential to live another day. I could have died last night and never made it to have seen my 28 birthday. Today is a good day.

I have alot more to say, but maybe I will wait for another day.

Do You Love your Father

I saw Big Fish this weekend.

I watched the movie with gladness and sadness in my heart. The movie, I declare, was made specially for my father and me...and the countless other father's who battle cancer and their sons.

How true did the movie ring with me.

I treat my father so bad sometimes. Typically I find that when I treat him bad is for two reasons: a) I hate the ravenous disease that eats away at him b) our roles are reversed now and I hate that.

I thought this past week was a moment of accepting my role as father/son.
I thought this past week was a moment of accepting his circumstances.

I don't think I was wrong in thinking those things. I think they remain true. The only difference is I no longer have the emotional butterflies that go along with such awareness.

I don't beat my father....but I beat him with my words.

I want to be a good son who truly cares for his father.
I want to look in my father's eyes and know that he knows that I care for him.
I want my father to look into my eyes and know that he is cared for.

Father, how can I make it up to you?
How can I bring meaning to you life.
How can I make it easy for you to call me your son.
How can I take your pain away.
How can I honor you.

"I like the movie...but it was some kind of sad--sad because he dies..." -- Felix Avendano

An ode to the Relyea's family member

You are round
You are brown

You snort
You fart
You smell

You breath heavy
You have bad breathe

You are a dominatrix
You are sensitive to the touch

You have been diagnosed with a condition
Your plumpness is not your fault

Take pride you overweight Chihuahua. Take pride.

El Fin

With a sigh of relief, I can now proclaim: "We are done".

The new apex site is up!

Major thanks goes to:

Jim Sullivan
Gregg Stokes
Kurtis Kopf

and Greg Hubbard for seeing this to its completion!

But that's who he is now

The glare
The stare
The infantilel excitement
The curiosity of whose at the door

To leap out of bed
To investigate
To no longer procrastinate

Life is different now

Your youth is a memory

For us

We recall the days of dancing
The days of excitement
The days of Joventud ---

Youthfulness is no longer manifested physically

Your stare expresses

Joy and Pain

Your time of becoming an old man came too soon.

Mine
Mis heridas No las puedo comparar Cada uno tiene suyo Pero son bien diferentes Son separados por una gran distancia El Gran Canyon no es Nada En todo su espacio No queda nuestras dolencias	My wounds I can't compare we each have them But each are are different Seperated by a great distance The Grand Canyon is nothing Even with all of its space Our hurts and pains are too enormous to fit in it.

Damn. It just ain't fair.

But...yes, yes, I know... life ain't fair.

Fairness is not what I hope for.

REDEMPTION

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.