  I looked forward to going out all day. nbsp;  I keep telling myself that I have to go out no matter how tired I might be. nbsp;  If I'm going to have any sort of happiness while working these two horrid jobs than I have to keep going out. nbsp;  At least once. nbsp;  And so I go out. nbsp;  Usually I'm tired and just kind of stand around sipping on a beer,
 dancing a little watching life unfurl before me as I stand there in my own little world just watching everyone interact or the bands playing or the video loop playing on repeat.
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 Watching people live life and being completely devoid of it myself.
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 But this time I started with my nails.
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 I painted them a dark blood red.
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 I had sushi for dinner ( and let me just tell you,
 sushi is not the food to eat before getting trashed)  I came home and tried on a few different outfits.
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 I got talked into wearing a bandaid,  er I mean my tiny black mini skirt.
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 It's definitely hot.
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 I wore it with a deep v- necked black tank top and this&
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awesome&
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red belt,  it's asymetrical and big and broke up my all- black wardrobe with some color.
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 To keep from freezing I threw on a tiny black blazer with some bling,  a diamond encrusted monogramed A on the lapel.
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 I thought I looked pulled together enough and threw on some black fishnets and stilleto's.
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 I have a problem with being tall.
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 Yes I do.
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 And showing so much leg almost made me feel too self conscience,  especially with the three inch stilleto's on but Parker asured me that you can never show too much leg or be too tall.
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 I didn't really believe her but with enough drinks I could have cared less.
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 My hair was pissing me off though.
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 It wouldn't do what I wanted it to do and I didn't have hours to stand there staring at it in the mirror trying to make it look good so I left it looking like I had just stepped out of the 40's.
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 Smooth,  curled up at the ends with a little pompador- like flip of my bangs&
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in front.  Dark smoldering eyes,  and shiny bright red- red- red lips.  As soon as I walked in I headed to the bar.
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 downed a few drinks then decided I needed to dance.
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 The place was pretty empty&
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but it was only midnight,  it filled up pretty fast after we got there though.
nbsp;
 Leslie came with me which made me happy because I haven't gone out dancing with her in a long time.
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 I wish she wasn't so broken hearted over that loser she broke up with,  but hey I guess these things happen.
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 She put up a good front though and I think she had a little bit of fun.
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 She had never been to ID.
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 She knew more people there than I ever expected,  apparently everyone either works with her or shops from her store there and had to say hi.
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 We danced,  we smoked,  we drank,  we danced some more,  more,  more.
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 I was getting drunk.
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 I was dancing my ass off,  I was having fun.
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 Mike said I smelled good.
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 Little compliments mean so much to me these days.
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 I told him he owed me a dance and then went out to have a cigarette.
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 I always meet the gay guys.
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 Yep,  they're attracted to me.
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 Thankfully this time though it was Leslie this one guy was after,  but then his friend the more flaming of the group saw me and knew.
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 He knew I was the girl he wanted to have.
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 Not in the same way straight men want women of course but you know.
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 Gay men LOVE ME!
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 It's kind of neat.
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 He told me we would have to go to this expensive restuarant,  I forgot the name,  and have champagne and " little snacks"  whatever that meant.
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 He told me I smelled good and even knew the name of my parfum,  and the designer.
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 See,  gay men love me.  But it was time to go back inside.
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 I really had to pee.
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 I had tried earlier but the bathroom was too packed so Leslie and I go in and get in line.
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 She makes it in,  but I&
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got accosted by 2 cute girls wanting to know if my name was Amber.
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 I probably looked freaked out but said,  yes.
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 And then they squealed with delight.  I was clueless,  then they told me they read this blog,  and someone else's blog and blah blah blah and they thought it was me but wasn't sure and I was almost overwhelmed but in a good way,  I probably would have been more embarassed if I was sober but I definitely was not sober at this time.
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 Someone offered me some Sparks,  I was just drinking anything that night and down a big gulp went.
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 Then Natasha came in and gave me a big hug.
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 I've never met her before&
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but she's so silly and sweet in her journal that it was just nice to finally meet her.
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 It was a crazy bathroom moment though,  and I never did get to go pee.
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 I made my way back to the bar instead.
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 I ended up sitting on the stage up in front where I was previously dancing,
 trying to sip on my drink but before I had knew it the glass was empty.
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 It was time to dance.
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I danced a lot.
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 And then I got my dance with Mike,  but I was so drunk at this point I probably was dancing like shit.
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 He kept spinning me around.
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 I thought I was going to fall over,  but falling feels good when you are drunk.
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 Not the landing part,  but the falling part.
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 I never fell,  but I got dipped and I laughed and laughed and danced.
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 And then came the rap/ ghetto/ r& b.  It's usually played at the very end of the night,
 it's like a way to know when last call is.
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 Leslie went and got a beer,  which I kept stealing sips of.
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 We danced.
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 Well I danced all ghetto like.
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 I blame the gay bars my friend Kevin takes me too.
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 DAMN THOSE GAY BARS!
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 Teaching me how to dance all dirty- like.
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 hahaha.
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 I love dancing and I finally got to dance.
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 I'm afraid I'm going to end up in way too many pictures where I look like a mess.
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 I know I crinkled up my face for one picture and that is bad.
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 We all spilled out onto the sidewalk outside.
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 Leslie ran into some girl she knew when she was just a tiny little kid.
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 I had a bonding experience with Fletcher over 6am Bart rides to work,  everyone was going to the afterparty.
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 I was being talked into it,  and then I realized I was way too trashed.
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 I needed food.  I needed my bed.
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 I sent Leslie off and told her to have fun.
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 Then I went over to Parker and she tried to get me to go too.
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 She told me I could do it,  that I just had to keep conversations short with people and superficial and that I could do it,  that I wouldn't fall asleep and I'd get through my drunken stupor.
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 I almost gave in,  and then what to my wonderous eyes did I see?
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 An empty cab.
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 No one was taking it,
 and in a cinderella like moment as the clock struck midnight ( 2: fourtysomething actually)
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I fled to the cab waving and yelling,
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 "
I just can't do it.
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 goodnight!  I need a brownie!
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 I was safe in the cab and calmly collected myself to appear some what proper and in a quiet voice asked to be dropped off at the corner of 15th and South Van Ness.
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 He was quite possibly the nicest cab driver I have ever had.
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 Normal.
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 Courteous.
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 Asked how my night was and which corner I'd prefer to be let off at.
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 I tipped him well and slid my way up the stairs.
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