Mom called me a snob

My mom called me a snob today. I didn't want to go to the Glen Echo swing dance tonight and she called me a snob. Now she actually wasn't trying to be mean, but just point out that maybe I'm too limited in methods of branching out in the community.

We started swing dancing as a family when I was in 6th grade. I never took any formal group lessons that I can remember but we just learned at the start of the once a month Saturday dances at Glen Echo with the Tom Cunningham Band. It evolved into something that I shared with some friends in my middle school and by the time we got to the required dance classes at Christ Episcopal School which is where I went from 2nd to 8th grade, we were all pros. Andy and I got used to the old couple instructing us come out to "Center Stage" to demonstrate.

Glen Echo and swing became the one of the primary family activities once a month; it was the only thing (besides waterskiing and bumper tubing) that we all knew how to do and enjoyed doing together. So even as we kids moved on to high school, boarding school and college, the family activity was waiting for us whenever we came home to visit. The activity was also a great thing we could use to socialize with both new boyfriends/girlfriends and our parents. It's sad to say, but for a long time, swing dancing was the only social activity I did when I came back for breaks. I only had two years at the local high school and the only close friend I made is in San Francisco. Now there was/is nothing wrong with having a good time with your parents. Actually, I don't know of many people that do. But at some point it started to bother me that dancing with my parents and other swing fanatics was the only social interaction I had. I love my parents dearly, but I'm 23, going on 24 and need to branch out a bit.

So when my mom said I was a snob, I secretly agree with her. Maybe I am limiting my social options by not wanting to be connected at the hip with my parents every time I leave the house. I love my parents dearly but I'm discovering that it is very difficult to sustain an individual and adult identity while living at home. I feel like everything I do outside of this house (except tango), my parents are somehow connected to it.
-I go to the gym (the same gym my mom belongs to) and I like to go to the noon treadmill running class (which my mom does occasionally also)
-I go to choir rehearsal downtown, to which my mom belongs also so we go together
-I go to the grocery store or run errands with or for my mother
-My dad just told me about the World Bank Christmas party next week and he offered to take me one night and then mom the next night.
-Every time I get a meal out, I'm with one of my parents.
-I go to church, where my mother is the First Reader (Christian Science Church)
-Every time I leave or enter the house, at least one of my parents and the dog know about it.

Really, this isn't a parent bashing post. I'm just questioning what happens to an independent, socially integrated and involved person once they go back in the womb, so to speak. I want to maintain the strong relationship with my parents that was created during my years away, but was that bond created because of distance? Do I have to now find ways to stay away from them, even at home? That doesn't seem right.

Much of my discomfort is certainly coming from the fact that I've been on vacation for over a month now. I am technically employed by a temping agency but they have yet to inform of job openings. Also, as of yesterday was hired by a tutoring company
to be a Spanish tutor in the Montgomery County/WDC area. I'm not sure when that will start up because the company just began this year and they may not have a large number of clients yet. So my days of waiting are passed much like vacation days - sleeping until 8am, sometimes 9am, taking time to read yesterday's paper while I eat breakfast. I move into my room for quiet time/spiritual study and then eventually get to my computer. That's when the long process of brainstorming and writing for a graduate school essay and application to the Peace Corps starts. I try to work on that for at least 3 hours, but I am the slowest writer. I have to brainstorm first, then do some writing down on paper and then cross it all out because the perfectionist in me isn't satisfied. Then it's time for lunch, walking the dog, and then going to the gym before I get too tired. Before know it, it's time to help mom with dinner. And in an instant it's dark outside and lose all motivation to be productive and just end up having quality time (I mean it! I like this time with my parents!) with my parents, discussing the news, readings in the living room or watching a though provoking, or not, movie. I don't feel like I've been lazy by any means but I'm definitely not feeling productive.

This hasn't been the easiest of transitions. Yes, I have all the time and access to so many activities that I dreamed of during those super busy days at Emma Willard. But there is something so unsatisfying about not completing concrete tasks each day and not being on a schedule. Since boarding school, every last detail seemed to be scheduled and planned out for me. I awoke at a certain time. there was a specific set of tasks to be completed and a time frame in which to do them. Good and plentiful food was provided and cleanup taken care of. If I didn't want to work out outside, fitness centers were only a few steps away. I didn't have to ponder for a minute how I would engage myself socially - there was a whole campus of people to hang out with! Plus, I could just attend an already planned activity if I wasn't feeling creative enough. If not feeling social, I'd welcome the down time to just read a book or watch a movie or make some phone calls or e-mails. Options abounded in those settings but in many ways those options were handed to me on a platter. All I needed to do was show up.

Now that I'm home, I am the creator my community and my activity. It's all in my hands what my schedule is, what kind of work I produce and in what time frame I produce it. Dinner must be well thought out, I've learned from my mom - I can't just eat cereal all the time. There are currently two vegetarians and one meat eater in the home. How do you fill and please both parties? And you have to buy the food and take the time to prepare it too and then clean it all up. I live on one acre of land surrounded by trees and far from any campus lifestyle. The only place provided any kind of social activity is just a few steps away. It's the National Lutheran Home, a retirement community, which is not the scene I'm currently looking for. So a lot of gas gets burned up going to the gym, to the store, driving to DC for a tango milonga.

It's a different life I'm living now. In reality, it's not a difficult life by any means. I actually consider myself fortunate to have this freedom of waiting for work and still being able to feed myself and stay warm and find the $dollars to fill my car and belong to a gym. But am I taking it for granted by saying that I don't want this lifestyle to last much longer? I guess what I'm seeking is to be valued. My sense of value right now is helping out with the house however I can and praying for myself and the world. I know this is useful and probably exactly where I need to be right now, sadly, I've discovered, I'm influenced by societal values - our society expresses value in measurable production and money. What am I producing with my help and prayer and prep for my future (ie. grad school and peace corps apps)? I guess that's where I need to defend and protect myself from social constructions that might try to damage me and the good I am contributing. When I think about it, very little of the things I value in life are related to money, or something physical - love, friendships, nature. I'm not sure where I'm going with all this. Life's pretty darn complicated, isn't it?