Home Alone

It is true that I left Breena two weekends ago so that I could earn some sweet moola with uncle Rico. It was hard to be away from her for three days, but I was spending 12 hours a day either coaching players or chatting with coaches so time really flew by fast... for me anyway. Breena was home alone and I got the impression that there was no tempus fugit for her and she was bored and lonely while I was gone. This weekend she figured it was time to give me a taste of my own medicine, so she decided to take a little weekend away from home to celebrate Mo-T's birthday in Vegas.

I am skeptical about the intentions of this whole trip that has been in the works for several weeks now. First of all, I still haven't been able to verify that it was actually her mom's birthday this weekend. But forget that... I have another concern with this little viaje a la viva Las Vegas. My biggest concern is the fact that this little rendezvous in Sin City with women (Mo-T, Lori, Laura, Elise, & Bethany) who were ALL raised in Arizona coincided with a Busch Series NASCAR race. Did Breena REALLY think that I wasn't going to find out about this? She knows that I watch ESPN for at least 2 hours a day, so how could she possibly think that I wouldn't catch somekind of ad or pre-race report about it? Are you kidding? What are the chances that 6 women, all born and raised in Arizona, would meet in Vegas the same weekend as a NASCAR race and not attend? Very, very slim mind you.

I am not jealous. I am not a NASCAR fan, nor is Breena. Or so I thought. It is true that I listen to white-trash bands (or "butt rock" bands as Breena calls them) such as REO Speedwagon, Blue Oyster Cult, Bad Company, and Lynyrd Skynyrd.... But I DO NOT follow NASCAR... at least not on purpose... (Yes, I will admit to knowing that the car in the picture above is driven by Tony Stewart... but that is common knowledge for most people and I acquired it while working at Home Depot). But back to my point... what I am saying is that I have fallen for this whole facade that Breena is this beautiful, educated, and cultured person who doesn't have a redneck side to her despite hailing from Arizona. My friends, I have been on the long river in Africa which flows north for too long... it is time for me to overcome my denial that Breena really is also, at heart, a true Arizoniananan.

What I can't figure out is why she is trying to hide it. I mean, she calls me today to tell me how great the show (race) was last night. How convenient is it that she claims they went to see Phantom of the Opera... yeah, well.... who hasn't? So I couldn't quiz her on what happened in the musical because she's seen it before. They probably ate dinner as the NASCAR cafe just before the show, and the whole "I went to bed at midnight cuz I was so tired" bit was even worse. All I know is that she seemed to be pretty pumped up to learn how to play black jack when she left... the lyrics of the song "up all night, sleep all day" by Slaughter come to mind.

So here I am, the weekend alone, disoriented without my closet-case NASCAR wife to keep me on the correct path. Right now I am lying on the couch feeling sick because I ate a half-pound of bacon for lunch all by myself. You'd think I would of learned my lesson after eating an entire solid dark chocolate easter bunny last night and nearly breaking my no throwing-up-in-9-years record. These type of things just don't happen when she's around. Sweetie, I don't care if you are a redneck... just come home before I go insane or do something even more stupid like brush my teeth with cortizone or wash my dark colors in cloroxed hot water!!