Living with Your Parents When You’re 22+

Kids, I hate to break it to you, but when you graduate from college you’re going to move back in with your parents.

It doesn’t matter how talented/employable/desperate you are: you will move back with your parents. You might not be there for long—maybe you’ll only be there for a month because the lease on your awesome new penthouse starts in July and your shitty undergrad apartment kicked you out in May. But no matter how long you actually live with your parents, it will be too long.

Moving back in with your parents often brings on a multitude of confusing and paradoxical feelings, the likes of which you probably haven’t felt since you struck puberty in the seventh grade. On one hand, you don’t have to pay rent, worry about food being in the fridge, or wonder if the electricity will suddenly shut off because goddamn Ryan didn’t pay the bill on time again. But with this sense of comfort comes an abject and abiding sense of shame. You go to bed each night beneath all the memorabilia you thought was cool in high school when you last redecorated your room and wonder where things went so horribly wrong that you ended up back in the place where you started?

Guess which one is you.

If it makes you feel any better, your parents probably aren’t very excited to have you move back in with them either. My mom got a puppy the weekend I graduated from college, a placeholder for her soon to be empty nest. Unfortunately for me, the dog is cuter, and has a better personality than me. 

 The undeniable evidence.

Unfortunately for my mom, neither myself nor my 19 year old brother have yet moved out of the house. It’s like being in high school again, except there’s a lot more booze. My parents have really been pretty great about the whole thing so far, though they have mentioned that when I finally do leave the nest, they’re going to throw me a Moving Out Party.

That’s right, a Moving Out Party, not to be confused with a Going Away Party. It’s a small, but significant departure.

So how does one cope with the moving back with the parents? Well the best thing to do really is make the most of it, because you’ll probably be eating Velveeta on crackers the moment you walk out of their door. My parents live a life of unparallel luxury compared to my standards of living. I still remember my stunned awe when I returned from Florence and realized that my parents have separate paper products for different things: toilet paper, paper towels, napkins, and tissues. In my apartment, we had one paper product for all of these things. And sometimes not even that.

So what’s the moral of this tale exactly? Namely, the real world is a scary, fucked up place. And if moving back home is the most pressing of your problems, just remember that things are probably going to get much worse before they get any better. Enjoy the luxury of having both tissues AND toilet paper while it lasts, friends.  

Grad School Ahoy!

Graduating with your English degree into a veritable wasteland of employment opportunities sucks. This, coupled with my realization that school is the only thing I’ve good at, led me 11 months ago to embark on the dubious adventure known to some as “applying to grad school.” To those who had survived the ordeal, it is better known as “that time I self medicated with tequila. Repeatedly. For months.”

While waiting to hear back from schools, I left my almost minimum wage job in a faux tuxedo covered in mayonnaise and defeat.  

But after my acceptance, I still leave work covered in WIN! (And sometimes red velvet ice cream.)

While the lows of the post-graduate are low, the highs are high, and it’s safe to say that getting my acceptance two days from the national deadline into my dream program was better than Christmas, Easter, and my birthday all rolled into one.

I do not posit that grad school will solve my problems. Rather, it will probably bestow me with new, terrifying ones that my mind cannot even conceive of at the moment. But that’s okay, because this is the start of career that will doubtlessly be far more rewarding.

Stayed tuned as we gradually move from “what do I do with this B.A. in English” to “I am in grad school and going insane!”

A Break from the Usual Program

I was sent a grand total of once to the Dean’s office when I was in High School.

My transgression? I wore a tank top to school.

The dean explained to me that I didn’t have to dress “like that” to prove that I was an attractive person. I pointed out dozens of other girls in the school were also wearing tank tops at that very moment, so it wasn’t exactly fair that I was the only one getting a lecture. I went as far to suggest that the only reason I was in his office—as opposed to any of the others—was because I had been a solid C cup girl since the age of fourteen.

And then I discovered the crux of the issue.

The dean explained that my tank top was distracting to the boys in my classes, and they didn’t learn when they were distracted. And that was why I was being written up. Because boys can’t learn when they’re confronted with the possibility that they might-maybe-possibly get a glimpse of my cleavage when I reach over to search through my backpack.

ADVERT YOUR EYES, THE END OF ORDER IS BUT A CLEAVAGE SHOT AWAY.

Needless to say, I did not buy into this tremendous injustice. I could concede that in the hormone filled haze that is highschool, less concealing clothes could be distracting. But you know what distracted me from my studies? Boys trying to throw things down my cleavage and boys making lewd comments to me in the halls—outright harassment I found far more distracting. Yet not a single one was sent to the Dean’s office.

That was the first time I had been castigated for being a woman, but it has not been the last.

Doubtlessly, many of you are already aware of the current assault on women’s reproductive rights. For those of you that don’t, here’s the gist of it. Some members of the US government hope to compromise women’s physical autonomy through oppressive and unfair legislature. But as Soraya Chemaly observes, reproductive rights are human rights, and denying one denies the other.

While it’s easy to attribute this backlash against women to the current political landscape, these debates are shockingly archaic. Chemaly notes that granting zygotes “personhood” rights would deny women their own rights, and I can’t help but recall a passage from Simon de Beauvoir’s The Second Sex addressing the same issue: “It must be pointed out that the same society so determined to defend the rights of the fetus shows no interest in children after they are born…while it refuses to accept that the fetus belongs to the mother carrying it, it nevertheless agrees that the child is his parents’ thing” (525). At a time when massive cuts hinder social programs and public education, why are we so determined to force women and their families to care for children that they cannot or do not want to care for?

The Second Sex was published in 1949. Sixty three years later, and we're still debating the same thing.

Compromising women’s reproductive rights compromises the well-being of their existing children and potential children. Children are the foundation of our future as society. When women are attacked, the well being of society as a whole is attacked. I fail to understand how anyone—prochoice or prolife—can see this differently.

If you’re a woman, if you care about a woman, or if you want to make our country a better place, support women’s reproductive rights and pass the message on before it's too late.

Avoiding Unhelpful Advice

When one graduates from college, two things will happen. Firstly, you will begin to experience serious reservations about your life plans, if you have them. If you didn’t have plans to start with, you will fall into the throes of existential panic and wonder where your life’s purpose has gone. Secondly, in an effort to show benevolence and wisdom, everyone around you will begin offering “helpful” advice and tips on how you should conduct the rest of your life. This well-meant advice, contrary to guiding you, will light upon your doubts like a match upon a gasoline soaked deck, and the conflagration will burn until all that remains of your confidence is a blackened ruin of self-doubt and fear.

What the Hell am I doing?!

Fortunately, there is a very simple solution to this problem: The Lie. This method will probably not work on your parents or other close relations, but it will work on most other people. Ninety-five percent of the unsolicited advice you get will come from people you don’t want to talk to anyway, such as customers at your shitty minimum wage job, and complete strangers taking public transportation with you. The Lie is perfect for diffusing these situations. It functions something like this:

Customer: “So you graduated from college? What’re your plans now?

You: “Oh, I’m going to get my MBA and move to New York I think.”

Actually, you just graduated with a degree in Communications with a minor in Bullshitting because it was the only major you managed to pass all the prerequisites for, but they don’t need to know that. Less is more, when it comes to the The Lie. But only certain lies will stop the other person from asking you deep, probing questions about your so-called plans. Here is a list of safe topics to stick to for The Lie.

Business: Everyone either doesn’t understand what you’re talking about, or they’re already bored.

Moving to Other Cities to Look for a Job: This will deflect attention away from what you’re actually doing (or not doing) to where you maybe might live, a much better topic.

Going To Grad School for Whatever Your Major Was: Even if you majored in something astronomically stupid, like noodle art. Since you already studied it, everyone will be resigned to your poor life decision, and will only sigh forlornly when you explain that furthering your passion is your post-graduate ambition. Be certain to be really enthusiastic if you choose this one.

And in contrast, here’s a list of decidedly unsafe topics for The Lie.

Anything about your Significant Other: People will tear into anything you say about your partner like hyenas into a fetid carcass. Especially if you’ve been dating someone for a long time, people will probably be more interested in what you’re going to do about your relationship than what you’re going to do about your life. This goes double if you’re female. Just don’t bring it up, you’ll be happier that way.

Going for to Med School, Law School, or Getting your Ph.D.: If you mention any of these three, people will automatically assume you’re either really stupid or really smart, and neither opinion bodes well for you. Too stupid and people will regale you with the story of how their ex girlfriend’s mother second cousin got her doctorate of medicine only to not be able to make her mortgage payments. Too smart, and people will grill you incessantly about all the schools your applying to, and then look forlorn when there aren’t any Ivies on your list.

Sometimes though, The Lie will fail, and someone will ruin your stress-free day with hordes of useless advice. The best way to cope with these people is to make them feel like the assholes they are. Give into your despair and rage. Rant a little, or a lot, and watch how they flee your presence as though you’re some sort of joy-leper. Believe me, a little goes a long way. People will remember your outburst, and instead of asking what you're doing, they're only ask you how you are.

While The Lie isn't foolproof, it's certainly handy enough to deter most people from meddling in your affairs so you can work out your quarter-like crises in the solace of your martini glass.