The First Date, the First Broken Window

So anyway, I was looking back on my last entry and a lot of it was pretty gushy. Gawd, I can't believe myself. I hope all this gushiness isn't another lousy vampire trait that I end up inheriting from Julian. I had to take a shot of tequila (stolen from Solz's extensive collection) to compose myself to write this next entry.
Anyway, Michael and I had our first date tonight. Now, on an ordinary first date a normal human girl would rush home from college, take a long bubble bath, and pick her outfit, then rush to answer the door as she dabs on her lipgloss, right?
For a first-time vampire like me, this is how it goes: first I rush home from college, dump my books on the bed, race back out to find someone to feed on, spots a potential victim but is scared off by said potential victim's entire family pouring out on the doorstep, goes off to find another potential victim, finally finds someone to feed on, feeds, rushes back home, realizes that I have locked myself out of my flat in my rush to feed, races out to climb the fire escape and force the window open, makes note to fix window later, rushes to take a quick shower and pull on something decent looking, then races to answer the doorbell while scrubbing off some dried blood from the side of my lips.
Phew.
And they say an immortal life is easy. That's a load of bull, that's what I say to that.
But the date went pretty well. He was really fun and easy to talk to, and he was right about the pasta restaurant, their food is unbelievable. We ordered spaghetti and a huge bowl of chili clams, though how I managed to finish all that food right after my *ahem* earlier meal, I'll never know.
One of the members of Veur was in an accident so they had to cancel the gig and we got some lousy band instead so we sat at the back and just talked. Which worked out just well anyway.
So basically, the date went well, the night went well, everything went well, and I have to call up the handyman tomorrow to get that damn window fixed.