The state of an offering

Jesus in the Garden of Gethsemane poured out his heart to Father.

Paul in Philippians writes that he himself is being poured out as a fragrant offering.

My dad has entered his Garden of Gethsemane. He is being poured out like a fragrant offering.

5:30 in the morn'

I was supposed to be at work at 4:30 a.m., but at 4:23 my boss calls and says "the network guys are delayed, so just come in about 5 am."

Since I had a few minutes to spare I talked to my parents for a little and then sat in the recliner with a cup of coffee, closed my eyes and meditated for a while. Re-read some of Paul's stuff. I really appreciate his "no confidence in the flesh" memorandum. And furthermore, I appreciate the depth that he delves into in regards to "wanting to know Christ and the POWER of his resurrection." But he doesn't stop there. He continues with wanting, hoping, desiring to "share with Christ in his suffering" to the point of becoming like Christ in his death. Paul has the idea that all of what he wants from Christ in not vain, but rather, there is a major purpose. He sees all of this to his benefit, providing him with the ability to "attain to the resurrection from the dead." That's some really cool and powerful stuff.

Co-workers

My co-worker Jason just peeked his head out of his cube and says "Erik reports that you farted yesterday." I replied with "you missed the show, man." Wow! What a show it was. For most guys and a few girls, there is just something really funny about farts. Especially the ones that clear house!

Yesterday, I cleared house.

As I sat in my cube, the arby's lunch I had was -- let's just say -- it was having a gaseous affect on me. So, discreetly and not thinking much about it, I farted. A few seconds later I smell the most hideous smell. The smell was funky!

I wasn't sure what to do...I mean, I was a little embarrassed. So, my bright idea was if I walk away, the fart will follow and hopefully not bother my co-workers. I was wrong. After I came back to my cube, and a few minutes had passed, my boss (Erik) says in a inquisitive manner, "hey, um...Ramon, did you uhm....do something?" Looking at him with a raised eyebrow, I examined his face and realized I had been caught. The look on his face was priceless.

No longer able to contain myself, I burst out in laughter. But not just any old laughter. I'm talking about the gut wrenching laughter that leaves you deliriously giggly.

My poor boss. Ah...who am I kidding, it was funny!

After my boss was no longer able to take my stench anymore, he picks up a magazine and fanned the air in hopes to shew the ravenous attack. He then playfully, but slightly seriously yells "take that stuff over the developers." Still unable to contain my giggles, I walk over to the developers cube. Their first question for me was "why are you laughing?" Sharing my story, they laughed with me.

In the words of Doug Citizen, "Ah life......."

:-)

Lights Out

I sit in a dark corner. Classical music soothes my head. Blah...blah...blah.

Its Saturday and I'm at work. The lights are off because we have a developer who likes to work in the dark. He comes over to me asking "hey Ramon, is it okay if I turned the lights off?" With out missing a beat I chimed back at him "sure, why not, I leaving in a while anyways." How accomadating of me.

It is freaky but kinda nice to work in the dark. On another note....

I'm having dinner with this wonderful man tonight, his wife is coming too ;-) Actually, I'm having dinner with my buds, Erin and Darren. Maryann(e) (sp?) may come too. We are eating at the NEW Mediterranean cafe. I hear the food is the same good stuff, but not to expect to much out of the ambiance.

Met with Chris last night. That was a good time. 2 conclusions from last night. 1. I'm pretty sure I was mourning for Jesus. 2. I am terribly, utterly inept at being patient with people and having patience for myself.

As I shared with Chris it struck me. The patience he has for me I have not for myself or others.

I cried. He listened.

Sadness

I didn't know what to expect other than the hyped reports of blood and gore.

My reactions planed from one end of the sphere to the other end. I cried, I had fear, I was angry, I sat in despair, I accused; not what I expected to feel.

This morning I awoke up with sadness. The type of sadness that churns in you as you mourn the death of a person.

When I walked into work this morning, I was told by our administrator that Mike O'Callaghan died this morning of heart attack while he was at church.

I didn't know Mr. O'Callaghan personally, but I know that many people are in pain due to his departure.

My sadness this morning was for Jesus and continues on for Jesus and Mr. O'Callaghan too.

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.