To give some background I must tell you I have a wonderful relationship with my parents. I love spending time with my Mom in the kitchen, at the grocery, shopping and on the deck with a glass of wine. The past years that I lived in North Carolina we didn't speak every day but when we spoke we were on the phone for over thirty minutes. My Dad and I like the same kind of action packed Jerry Bruckheimer shows (CSI, Cold Case) and both are avid sports fans. Plus I have to say my Dad has picked up the ladies fashion lingo and can tell anyone who Kate Spade is. But most important my parents have been very supportive in my decision to quite my job, move out of North Carolina at the end of a lease and spend the summer job searching for the career I have always wanted. Needless to say, moving home isn't too bad. Got love, got support, got fun and got some delicious meals in my belly.
But a conflict on the horizon is my late night social scene. (Something I have encountered twice since moving back to Cincinnati five weeks ago).
You know! The meeting up with the girlfriends for drinks, checking out bars and clubs downtown, dancing, laughing, having fun, meeting people, hopefully meeting men and enjoying being young. That's what I want to do on weekend nights. I want to be social. I want to be with people my own age. I need a bit of an escape.
But looking more closely, here's the thing. My parents live in the suburbs of Cincinnati. The "social life" I want in Cincinnati is downtown. It is in the communities closes to downtown in Hype Park, Mount Lookout, Mount Adams and at the downtown restaurants on Fountain Square. That's where people are my age. That's where my friends and there friends live. That's where they go out at night and that's where they invite me to join. And they invite me to stay on their coaches late at night and wake up the next morning to make the 30 minute interstate drive back to the suburban neighborhood my parents live in.
But my parents worry. They don't like me going out. They don't like that they don't always know exactly which bar I am going to. They don't like me spending the night out. They just don't like it and wish I didn't.
This is where I struggle. A month ago I lived on my own with roommates and a cat. If I wanted to go out, I did. I didn't ask for permission. I just did it and I loved it. I lived 10 minutes from downtown Chapel Hill and a $12 cab ride (split by 3 people and that's $4). Going out and meeting people was a weekend routine. That was my life.
But I am on a different playing field now. A whole new turf and while I need to be respectful and acknowledge my current settings, it is hard for me to forget my independence and my old life.
There is no solution on this one. When my friends call and invite me to join them. I most likely will. I'll tell my parents. When the questions fly, I'll answer them all while thinking theses questions use to not be asked.
Cheers to the twenty something trying to live the life while living it at their parents house.