Ooh, Baby

I think I can't eat gluten. Fuck. I was so sure that was going to be perfectly fine to add back in, but it seems to be the thing that has me feeling bad again, not the weather shift. Or it's the combination of the two, but at least gluten is something I can control.

Spent a long time at the bar tonight talking to one of my favorite people. For blog purposes, I will call him "Dijon." He's the one who adopted me into the crowd of regulars. He instantly recognized something in me that I'm recognizing more and more in him. It's like we're made out of the same flavor Jello, or our insides have the same wallpaper or something. There are many, many, many, many, many, many aspects to a human being and obviously we can't share or compliment every aspect of ourselves with every single friend. Still, it's a big warm fuzzy to find another person with a long list of sames.
Dijon's over-testosteroned skeezy drunk politician friend from childhood stopped by. I fucked with him a bit but nothing too overt. He asked me out. I said no. He asked if I was a lesbian. I said no, but I had enough on my platter as it was. When he left, he tickled me. What the fuck? Asshole gets rejected and then still tickles me. Possible Boy and I are afraid to get near eachother. I'm doing something wrong.

Six days until a baby stays in my condo. Must clean.