"Squat, baby, don't sit."

That from a guy who informed me I should still proceed with caution while using the men's restroom. Apparently, a girl made a mess of the women's room so I made like a man.

This happened when Jeff and I went to a gay bar tonight for karoke. Picture eight gay men surrounding you singing a Backstreet Boys hit as the top of their lungs. Yup. That pretty much sums it up. It was great entertainment and I even ended up singing Alanis Morissette's "You Oughta Know" with a couple of people. Not to shabby although I couldn't really hear myself. I did get a "cute," "great" and "fabulous." We also danced and saw cute lesbians make out. Jeff came home and promptly passed out.

It was also a great distraction from not one, but two, rejection letters I got in the mail today. I gave myself the day to sulk but I'll be my usual motivated self tomorrow. I refuse to let the mans (or womans) get me down.