Repo update: She took him back. Which was in some ways surprising, and in other ways not. I was cheated on when I was her age, so I know how hard it is to admit it to yourself. And cheaters are very charming and persuasive people, capable of selling a refrigerator to an Eskimo. He's got balls for lying about it and taking the gamble that she'll never figure it out or believe him. One day she'll figure it out. And he'll get what's coming to him. There's no escaping karma.
Thanks to everyone for leaving supportive comments. It means a lot to me.
And whomever "Anonymous" is, they definitely need to work on their reading comprehension skills.
But enough about that. There's nothing I can do about the situation, so there's no point in obsessing about it anymore.
I had a really good weekend with my girlfriends. Friday I met up for happy hour at Wild Wings with my friends W & E. They were also meeting up with a goup of about 8 other people--none of whom I had ever met. Everyone was really friendly, but due to the size of the group, I ended up sitting at one end of the table with W, E and W's Boyfriend. I began talking to W's Boyfriend about jock straps and how I have questions about them. This discussion morphed into a discussion about balls, which led me to share the information that in college I had dated a guy with three balls. (Ironically, it was the guy I referred to above--the one who cheated on me).
Every time I bring up the fact that I've dated a guy with three balls, I get asked the following questions:
1. Did they all work? Yes, he had them tested by a doctor. Or so he said.
2. Were they all the same size? Yes.
3. Did he have extra spunk? I honestly don't remember. I think so...
4. How were they arranged? He had two on one side, stacked on top of each other and a loner on the other side.
I hope I just answered all your questions. Anyway, I'm talking about this 3-Balled guy, and somehow the story drifts all the way down the table. As I'm still talking to W's Boyfriend about it, I am tapped on my shoulder. I turn towards the rest of the group. Now, keep in mind that I haven't even really been introduced to any of these people. Don't really know them from Adam. And as I turn my head, I discover that all 8 or so of them are staring at me, and they are all shouting the same thing-- "He had THREE BALLS?"
"Yeah," I replied, "He had the biggest nut sack I've ever seen in my life!"
And they all cracked up.
Then they asked the obligatory questions (see above) and we all laughed about it. The men at the table teased me incessantly for the rest of the night. "You must have the gag reflex of a porn star!" one of them said.
"Oh God," I thought, my face turning beet red.
And then I realized I had just told 8 strangers about my experience with 3-Ball. And now, since they didn't know my real name, I would probably be referred to as "Ball Girl". Super. Way to make a first impression, VB.
After a while, W, W's Boyfriend, E and I left and went to Jillian's. There, we continued the discussion about balls, which morphed into a discussion about how to avoid being thought of as a tease by men. How to communicate that you want a fling vs. a relationship. And how to date significantly younger men successfully, because they are easily confused by older women in the fling vs. relationship department. It was a very heated discussion, let me tell you. We ribbed E a lot, because she has been sending mixed signals to a younger guy.
Then I left to meet up with MJ and KT at The Hunter-Gatherer (great name for a bar, huh?) to see one of our favorite bluegrass bands, Loch Ness Johnny. Unfortunately, the lead singer had recently had back surgery, so there was a (far inferior) substitute band. After quick updates on our lives, we tried to figure out where we should go to get away from this awful band. But after about 15 minutes of vetoed ideas, we were out of alternative bars. By then, I was exhausted and MJ and KT were also ready for bed. So we called it a night.
Saturday was spent running errands and figuring out my whole iPod situation. My computer wasn't recognizing it or charging it. According to the lady at Best Buy and mysmileisfake (thank you, btw), I probably had 1.0 USB ports, when I really needed 2.0. So I bought a 2.0 USB port.
When I got home, I saw that Navy Guy had come for a visit. (That's my roommate's on-again, off-again boyfriend.) I love Navy Guy. He is just a total sweetheart. He showed me how to install it all by myself, which saved me $40. It was so easy! He also told me why my computer is so slow- I need more RAM. He showed me how to install that for whenever I bought it.
So we plugged my iPod in again. Nothing happened. K plugged her MP3 player in, and it worked fine. We decided it was a faulty iPod, so I returned it and got another one. It is working perfectly! I can't believe it. I'm going to go home and play with it after work today.
I was too tired to go out Saturday night, so I watched Season One of HBO's Big Love. It is my new favorite show. Love it.
Last night, I met up with The Nurses for the Superbowl. We went to The Dam Bar (It's right by the Lake Murray Dam, hence the name) and got a booth. Unfortunately, our seats were bad and none of us could see the tvs very well. By halftime, we gave up and all went home. I fell asleep before the game was over, so I didn't know the Colts won until this morning. I'm happy, though.