Last Thursday, Jon left right after work for St. George. You local readers know where St. George is, but for those of you readers living in far away, exotic locations, don’t be fooled by St. George’s name. It isn’t one of the quaint islands in the Bahamas. It’s a town in southern Utah known mostly for golf and old people. And some polygamy.
So like I said, Thursday Jon took off with a couple of his friends for a “mancation” in St. George… and, incidentally, it was for the golf, not so much for the old people or the polygamy. They golfed 54 holes in 2 days. And — while I like golf and all — that just doesn’t sound super fun to me. Which is why it was a “mancation” and I wasn’t invited. Plus, to be invited to “mancation”, you sort of have to be a man. And I am a pregnant woman, which is the total opposite of what you are supposed to be. But aside from being the opposite of a man, I think the main reason I wasn’t invited was because of my golfing skills… or lack thereof. Because yeah, I like golf, but I suck at golf. It would take me 2 weeks, not 2 days, to properly play 54 holes. I regularly pick up the ball and throw it towards the hole, because yes, sometimes my “awesome” shots actually give me negetive yardage. And I average about 11 balls per every 18-hole round… lost to sand traps and tall grass and water hazzards and curious pelicans and hungry deer and holes in trees and anything else that could possibly ingest or mask the whereabouts of a small white ball. Which is why I have yet to play with my really cute Disneyland balls. Because I would lose them all ($20 worth) on just an executive 9-hole course. Oh, and did I mention the time Jon actually threw me from the golf cart? That was awesome. I did a ninja-like combat roll across the fairway. Actually, I did several rolls before rolling to a complete stop with a pulled groin area and leaves in my hair. See, I am actually even horrible at riding in the cart during golf. (And if you think I am lying about that story, our friends Cory and Heidi were actually with us, and Heidi half-peed herself laughing at me. I can give you her email if you want confirmation… confirmation about the falling and rolling, not the peeing.)
Here is me golfing one day… but not the day of the golf cart incident:
(Lifting the heel is very poor form for a drive. Yet I can’t not do it.)
And so I was left at home with the kiddies. Which really is okay with me. If Jon would have gone on mancation to a spa/bakery/ice cream shop, I would have made more of a case for myself to go. But as it was, I was here with the kids, doing the usual stuff. Swim team and soccer mostly. And I held down the fort and we were just fine without daddy for a few days. ..
…Except for at night. Because have I admitted to you yet that I am a 32 year old woman who is still afraid of the dark? Yes-huh. Seriously. I am weird about it even when my husband is here, but when he is out of town? I freak out. I can’t sleep. I think every bump in the house is an intruder waiting for me to fall asleep so he can — what? — I don’t know, steal all of our left shoes before tying us up and eating all of our yogurt? No, actually, I envision much worse things. Oh, like the night of the throwdown at the mall? Somewhere in my mind, I was totally convinced that those punk kids waited for 4 hours in the parking lot before following me home and waiting for me to fall asleep so they could break in. I know, I am insane. And I was totally going to write this post earlier, about how I was fake-mad that I wasn’t invited to go on mancation, but then I thought, “holy crap, what are you thinking? You can’t tell everyone on the internet that your husband isn’t home! That you are alone and pregnant and defenseless! Don’t you realize that ax-murderers read your blog? Sure they do! Lots of them! And several of them are within driving distance!”And so I didn’t write all weekend. Even though I had nothing better to do, especially on Friday night at 3am when the refrigerator turned on and I was convinced that it was someone in the kitchen making a sandwich before coming back the hall to break my ankles and steal my new maternity jeans.
I know, I am insane. I already know it. I’ve said it. I admit it.
And to think my husband wanted a break from all of this — wait a second…
Hmmm, maybe that’s the real reason I wasn’t invited to mancation…
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OK, it’s time that we’re pals. I’ve been looking for someone to go on just such a vacation with. But instead of golfing, we’d go the spa and the movies and find a bakery or an ice cream shop and then the spa again. Oooo and shopping. We should go to St. George together and our hubbies could golf and we could…have other fun.
Comment by Jenna — September 29, 2008 @ 9:53 am
I am far more alert when Greg is gone, but considering he is gone part of every week, I’ve adjusted.
Until I read something spooky before bed and freak out.
I’m just that smart.
(You are stinking cute, even golfing. I can’t tell if I am jealous and in simple covet stage. Sinful, something to be sure.)
Comment by Lisa Milton — September 29, 2008 @ 11:01 am
You sound like me. But you already knew I was insane.
Comment by Leslie — September 29, 2008 @ 11:23 am
Been there done that, but it wasn’t a “mancation.” Sam travels alot for work. So, I just sleep with the tv on. Turn the volume up just enough to distract you from the little bumps and creaks in the night, but low enough to let you fall asleep. However, I must warn you, sleeping with the tv on can be addictive. I now have to sleep with the tv on even when he’s home. It drives Sam crazy, but I sleep like a baby.
Comment by Joan — September 29, 2008 @ 12:07 pm
Hey - we all have our issues, have you read my insane snake phobia post? Come to think of it, the very few times actually goes away from home for work what would I do if a snake appeared and he wasn’t around to ‘take care of it’? Hmmm. Sorry, sidetracked, really - I’m with Jenna we need to be pals, let our golf loving hubbies golf and get pedicures and have cute boys bring us virgin drinks with umbrellas in them while sitting pool side. But, first I have to lose at least 20 lbs before I sit next to you in a lounge chair.
Comment by shahara — September 29, 2008 @ 5:46 pm
Oh, I love when my husband goes to play golf (although I can’t believe he does because I always thought us more bohemian…he even has golf clothes) or goes on hiking, camping, fishing weekends with the boys because, I am finally alone!!! I love being home alone and I live in Baltimore City where people really do break into houses all the time and yes my house has been broken into before. But it does no good to worry about what might happen. Just read the Zombie Survival Guide, and you’ll be ready for anything.
Comment by Kerri — September 30, 2008 @ 1:31 am
Hi there - I read often but have never posted. But after reading your thoughts on being alone made me laugh because you basically just described ME when my husband is out of town. Don’t feel bad you’re not alone and I’m 32 as well! I also don’t post about when my husband is gone…for the same reason as you noted. So you’re not alone and I’m just as insane and happy to admit it as well. I enjoy reading your posts!
Comment by Danielle — September 30, 2008 @ 10:18 am
[…] boys and I packed up the car, left the wives and headed out for (man|gay|golf|bro)cation this weekend. Here’s how it went…by the […]
Pingback by The Last Word » Blog Archive » My Weekend By The Numbers — October 2, 2008 @ 6:43 am
“Mancation?” Sounds more like a gay-cation if you ask me.
HAHAHAHAHA!!!!
Comment by MrHattyHat — October 2, 2008 @ 12:56 pm