I have family in Houston.

They're not evacuating.

Can't really blame them, though. I wouldn't either, being in their place. See, my cousin, Brenda, is an EMT. She can't leave. In fact, she went to work yesterday and hasn't been able to go home yet. She already called her family and told them she probably won't be back until Monday. She's out there right now, busy evacuating patients to safer hospitals or setting up refuge shelters, I dunno. All I know is, she's in the danger zone. She, unlike her husband and kids, is not bunkered down somewhere safe, bracing for the worst. No, she's out there, helping people and getting in harm's way for said people. It's a very noble thing, but scary as fuck. To me, anyway. It's not like I can go help them somehow. Houston's eight hours away from here. 'Ama already talked to T�a Cristina, and the Dud called Caty last night. They all seem fine so far, and I pray it stays that way. I am so tempted to call Ara's cell phone just to make sure they're still breathing, but it's early still, and I won't help the situation by calling constantly.

Seriously, my stomach hurts. I'm probably gonna get the runs. I gave Caty my cell number and told her to call should they need anything. Supplies, anything. Shit, I'll drive. I just hope they won't need the help. I hope they'll be just fine. I hope the surge from this bitch-storm doesn't wipe Galveston Island off the map. I want everyone to be safe. The Weather Channel is saying this thing's bigger then Katrina. The surge will be bigger. Is bigger. Shit, we're even gonna be getting rain and maybe some tropical-force gusts of wind down here! And I'm worried about the tornados.