This week has been exhausting. 

I babysat for 10 hours on Monday, then again on Tuesday.  Twenty minutes after I got home on Tuesday, while I was getting ready to hang out with Shaina, my other aunt called and said she needed to take my uncle to the ER to get x-rays of his ankle that he hurt at work. I changed and brushed my teeth, then drove the 40 minutes to New Alexandria/Blairsville so I could babysit my 3-year-old and 8-month-old cousins til 10pm.  Both of whom decided to cry and fuss and refuse to go to sleep for half the evening.  I wanted to join, them honestly. 

Wednesday I worked 3-10, and during said shift I felt sick to my stomach and hot and cold on and off.  I couldn't decide if it was being tired (for no good reason) or lonely.  Usually I relish the silence of an empty house, but since Brendan is gone, too, it's a little unbearable. Before I fell asleep on the couch, my uncle texted me and asked if I could babysit today (Friday) from 630am-1pm.  Since I worked at 12, I thought I would get out of it.  Oh no, I definitely got negotiated into it. 

Yesterday I had no obligations other than hanging out with Shaina, which I thoroughly enjoyed when we finally ended up getting together. The rush hour Pittsburgh traffic made it a little crazy, but we handled it. 

So this morning I got here at 7.  I'm so tired, and to make it worse, my allergies are going nuts. I'm crying at anything and everything, and my stomach has a dull ache that's definitely not hunger. I'm supposed to work 12-5, but I really don't want to go.  Like, really really really don't want to go. Since I'm babysitting this morning, I'm not actually losing money, but I still feel guilty. I should call soon, though.  I hate calling off and feeling like a jerk.  I wish I worked somewhere like Walmart where you just go through automated menus to call off.

I want to go to Sonic really bad. Just in case anyone wanted to know.

I'm feeling kinda lonely since Brendan's at the beach. I'm wayyy jealous, too.  I went to the pool with K & B today, but it wasn't the same.  I did get a little sunburn, though, despite being covered in SPF 30 and only sitting out for 2 hours.  Maybe I am albino.

It's a pretty good day, though, all in all. My aunt commended my efforts with a, "You guys were on fire!" when I got the girls home.  I feel bad when I don't get everything on the list done. Sometimes I truly believe I'll be a horrible mom with my inability to get things done quickly.  Ah, well. I got to come home to an empty house since my parents and brother are in Scranton and Anna went to stay with Shanna for the week. Ahhhh, silence.  It's almost better than the unchallenged reign of the remote, which I used to indulge myself with trashy shows like "Next" and "Made".

I suppose I should go take a shower so I'm ready to hang out with Shaina at 7:30. I almost don't want to wash the sunblock off--it's my favorite smell.  Ever.

Now it's gonna get harder,
And it's gonna burn brighter,
And it's gonna feel tougher,
Each and every day.

So let me say, that I love you-
You're all I've ever wanted,
All I've ever dreamed of to come-
And yes, you did come.

I want you so bad, can you feel it too?
You know I'm so, I'm so in love with you.
I want you, so much,
I need you, so much,
I need your, I need your, your touch.

-metro station

Love it.

Thursday night was pretty terrible, and like so many of my godawful evenings, it started with a stubborn piece of outdated technology.

 My ancient computer crawled every time I tried to switch between the two windows I had up, and when I went to MySpace, it froze. (Damn that stupid Dark Knight animated homepage.) It's been pretty lethargic lately, so I decided I must be using too much memory since I've been downloading a lot of songs and uploading a lot of pictures recently. I started erasing useless files and, in my search, found my AIM conversation logs. Oh boy.  Rather eyeopening to say the least, the logs held a veritable wealth of forgotten memories. 

I skimmed through my banter with the Anthony I met in Hawai'i, surprised that I never realized that he liked me. It was all there, but I couldn't see it then.  I remember wondering why in the world he would call me every few days, even months after our 3 or 4 days together.  Duh. 

Then I read the one conversation with Charles that I had, and I began to cry at the realization of everything I'd lost because I'm a freaking idiot.  He was my friend--someone to rant and rave to, a "big brother's friend" type of character with his frank, experienced-based wisdom, and I had to go and make out with him.  I don't know if he wanted more, but the only thing I was after was comfort.  Cuddles and long talks, inspecting his tattoos and hearing his stories...I enjoyed it, but it shouldn't have happened.   I turn to anyone after a break-up, and I shouldn't.  Now the guy hardly seems to want to hang out, and when we do he constantly makes fun of me.  We used to exchange music suggestions--now when he gets in my car he immediately dismisses whatever may be playing as "shit."  He made his disapproval of my serious dating so soon after breaking up with Terry quite obvious.  "Relationships aren't going out of style you know," he says.  Damn me.

I sniffled through meaningless conversations with various acquaintances, thinking the Charles thing was the worst.  If only.  I found THE conversation with Chris--the one that had sent me out into North Oakland rain at midnight, sobbing openly up and down the sidewalk.  I didn't feel the need to go out and invite possible assault when I read it a second time, over a year later, but it still hurt like crazy.  I caused Chris so much pain, for what?  A stupid, arrogant, manipulative jerk whose only motivation was probably material for his ego-driven career goals.  Like he seriously cared about me--come on, Alaina.  Freaking idiot.  I cried so hard, I could barely breathe.  And with Terry at arm's length and oblivious Brendan out with friends---who was going to rub my head while I bawled?  I can't say I remember many times I felt so lonely and...hopelessly guilty.

For someone who thinks she knows about guys, I'm painfully clueless as to avoiding making mistakes with them.  I ended that night with some Starbucks hot chocolate and a date with Ryan Adam's Gold album, tearfully detailing my emotions in my $1.97 Old Navy journal.  But sometimes I need those nights to remind myself that I don't know everything, and maybe the "take-that-chance, what's-the-worst-that-could-happen?" philosophy should be tempered with a good deal of cautious thinking.  I dread the day when my mistakes cost me more than one or two friendships--but I fear my caution will prevent me from ever opening up fully to someone again.  I can feel myself doubting what I have even now.  Afraid of the unknown--you know, a boyfriend might actually break up with ME....then what will I do?  Remembering last year, zombie-walking around my apartment with swollen eyes and general disinterest in anything except sleep and depressing music, I am terrified of repeating the same situation, only maybe a bit worse, if that's even a possibility.

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I miss the city so much. I didn't realize how much I adored it until today when I started listening to Augustana again. I would give up a year of progress at school to be able to pack up a couple books, my umbrella, my ipod, my cell, my journal, a bottle of apple juice and a granola bar, my wallet, my keys, and my dictionary, shove my school ID in my back pocket, lace up my boots, throw on a sweater and a scarf, and head out to the elevator. God that was the best feeling: leaving the lobby door of my apartment and smelling the rain in the air, jogging a bit to catch the bus... Every day there was something new to look at, someone different to observe.

Damn, I'm such a city girl.