Run-on sentence, whatever do you mean??
I went on a wonderful date yesterday with a amazing man. We started off at a tattoo parlor on Melrose (where I got the above tattoo touched up), meandered over to his apartment (just down the street), went to CVS to get tattoo-care supplies, then to my place where we applied them, then to Main Street to wander around before hitting Starbucks and going to the Old Town Music Hall of catch the 1925 silent movie Don Q: Son of Zorro, then down to The Kettle in Manhattan Beach for some late night munchies, followed by a walk down the pier to watch the waves and look at the various avain life, then back to my place for cuddles, back rubs, general activites of a sexual nature, pass out, get up, went down to Main Street again, hit the Blue Butterfly for some coffee, watched the people passing by, then drove back up to Hollywood to drop him at his place (he sold his car because of philosophical reasons). It was a great, great 24 hours.
Then I went and caught Twilight, did some grocery shopping, and now I'm sitting in my apartment, about to pop in a movie and kick back before heading out to Malediction.
I've been going to Ruin a lot lately. Well, by a lot, I mean the last three or four weeks in a row. Which is a lot for me (to go there). But I've been rocking out. People have been so complimentary on my dancing, I knew I was decent at it, but I never thought I was so great people would just have to stop me out of no where to compliment me about it. But they have been, so yay ego-boost! Someone actually started filming me, which was odd. I was like... ooookkaaaay now, awkward time! And then the guy I went home with (still kicking self) a few weeks ago was watching me the -entire- freaking time, and then disappeared. I get out to my car, check my phone, and there's this odd voicemail from him, basically saying that he had been watching me dance and wanted to hook up again so to give him a call when I left.
It was creepy as hell. I did not call him. Instead, I went to Fred 62's all by my lonesome and got a vanilla shake, chilled, and read some Rollins. That was infinitely nicer.
So yay for tattoos and dancing!
Going out to Mal shortly, another date. I'm tired, but apparently the odd don't get sleep priviledges.