So what I thought may have been poison ivy may in fact be scabies. Since learning this a couple days ago, on Thanksgiving, a friend telling me they think they have scabies, I have been itching even more and the itching seems unbearable at times. I did a scabies treatment a couple days ago and so that should either solve the problem in a week or I can go back to thinking I have poison ivy, and should it still be around a month from now, at that point I should have health insurance and get an actual medical opinion as to what this skin condition is.

I have had a succession of days off lately and so today I got stoned this morning while still in bed, got a bit horny, and started chatting with someone on Manhunt. He lived close and so I went over to his house. We sat across from each other at his breakfast table. He was beautiful, young and Brazilian, looking a lot like Adrian Grenier, big lips, sexy thing. He was kind of annoying, clearly a rich brat, and certainly a bad host. I felt very awkward because I was stoned and because nothing was happening. We made stupid conversation and he chain smoked and looked at his computer a lot. His little dog ran back and forth near us, chewing on squeaky toys and trying to fuck his cat, who seemed to tolerate the dog more than any other cat would. Watching these two animals hump, not even of the same species, I wondered why we weren't, me and Adrian Grenier lookalike.

There was one point where he asked me what my sign was. I told him and then asked him if he was into that stuff, if he knew about it. No, he said. He said it was just what people asked. And there was that stupid breakfast table between us and our unsexy questions and answers, and for whatever reasons it didn't happen and wasn't going to. Trying to leave before things got awkward and I got asked to, I told him I had errands to run. He walked me downstairs and we parted ways. As I was walking away, he called me back, asked me if I wanted his number, if I wanted to have a drink later. I was a bit shocked, having thought this dude hated me, wondering why I would want to endure more awkward time with him, more time not fucking and playing with his pets to somehow feel less awkward, but took down his number anyways. He said Ciao. Of course he did.

I jerked off with some older muscley dude in the steamroom today. I read some of Before Night Falls afterwards at Ben's cafe. I feel really lonely these days and wonder if I was coming back from a long trip, even a short one, who would be that person that I wanted to call as soon as I landed. My connections with people are becoming more tenuous. I am realizing what I liked so much about Diego was having some sort of person in my life like that, someone that I could call to hang out with whenever, and it is that that I miss I am realizing, not so much this person specifically, but the feeling of connection, a person to call, not having to think about who one should call, but knowing.

My phonebook now includes Adrian Grenier lookalike, a massage therapist I met at Short Mountain and re-met at Phoenix a couple nights ago, a boy I met at a house party on Saturday where it was all musical theater people and they all sang around a keyboard in the living room, and some other people, and there are thoughts often about who I should call, whether I should call anyone, and the choices are either unsatisfying or overwhelming, and there is something else I desire and it is not the past, about that I am more and more sure, and these days are transitional ones for me. Something is coming. I am not sure what person I will be.