It feels a lot like jealousy, but with a heap more anticipation. Maybe it’s the feeling of missing out? Or maybe it’s homesickness wrapped in a blanket of Hoosier pride. Whatever it is and whatever you call it, I miss the Indianapolis 500. It didn’t hit until just this weekend when the sun came out (as did the shorts and t-shirts, #sunsoutgunsout) and my friends near and far posted photos online of them at Carb Day, at the parade, at the Snakepit Ball, and any of the tens of other festivities throughout Indianapolis this weekend. But…