Reflections as the Storm Clouds roll in

I was driving around today, doing some errands, and some chick on the radio said there would be hail today in San Diego. I looked around outside, feeling the freaking humid 90+ degree whether, and asked myself "is that woman high? Riiiiiiight, we're gonna have hail. Sure!"

That bitch was right. After a few short hours of watching dodgeball (haha) a huge tropical storm came to pay San Diego a visit. That's crazy!

In all seriousness, though, there's something else I've been meaning to post about for awhile. It doesn't have to do with hot actors, Oompa Loompas or my complaints, but rather, mortality.

I know I complain a lot, especially on here--it probably seems like it. This is a place to scream out what's crawling under my skin, when I usually won't talk about my problems out loud. Yeah, I'm one of those people. I keep my feelings hidden often, until it's something big, and it all comes out. That's why this may be therapeutic in a way for me. I'm finally letting it out somewhere.

Back to mortality...and my uncle.

Uncle Paul is probably my favorite uncle. He's got this spirit about him that's infectious. And he's sooooo funny.

That's why it's sad to know he's dying. That clenches my heart when I say it out loud.

He has Hepatitus C, and he seriously has 10 days (less now) to get a liver, or he's gonna die soon.

I'm not being over dramatic, or anything. This is the solid gold truth. Here and now, as I sit and watch my dodgeball, and try to go on with my everyday activities--putting on stupid makeup, thinking about superficial things, going to work--Uncle Paul is becoming a distant dying light. A light that was once so bright and blinding that you couldn't see anyone else when he was in the room.

It makes me sad, it makes me feel selfish not to think of him every second of the day. But, I know that he wouldn't want me to worry so.

I should stop talking about my Uncle like he's already dead. He wouldn't allow that.

I just wish there was someway I could make this better. For the sake of my dad who will lose a brother. For the sake of my cousin (who is my age) that will lose a father. But it sounds bad to pray for someone else to die (and give their liver) so my uncle can live.

Man...mortality is a hard subject to talk about. But if I talk about it with my dad, he'll cry. So I come here, to pour out my emotions in hopes of feeling semi-better. Hopefully more than before.