A Note to My Parents: That's Some Cold Shit

"Your Grandmother wants you to move back to Central New York. She thinks you can find a job in Syracuse or something"

"WHAT?! First of all that is crazy talk. Central New York is the most economically depressing and subsequently emotionally depressing area of the country I've ever seen. Secondly, I love Austin and I've made a great life for myself. Why does she want me to move back? Because she misses me or because she thinks I can't take care of myself?"

"Well, we worry about you becoming a vagabond. You know...."

"What?!"

"We just don't want you to become a certain 56 year-old man that we know."

"57, Mom."

"He's not 57."

"Yes, he is. He was born two years before you."

"Really?"

"Yes."

"Well, I've been not married to your father more than I was married to him, so how the hell should I know?"

"Dad really enjoys his life. Yes, he's maybe had two wives, lived in seven different states, had thirty different jobs, and thirty-five cars, and now he's an actor in Los Angeles, but he's happy!"

Silence.

Then the tiniest sigh.

From both of us.

This conversation came only a few weeks after a text message appeared across my phone that said "I have these visions of you being alone for the rest of your life- Your Father".

What is it with parents and their uncontrobable urge to verbally explain their fears of us becoming Little Edie? I don't want them to roll their eyes and suggest otherwise when I tell them that I'm moving into a cockroach infested loft in a new city of my choosing. Naysaying will only question my steadfast validity in the decision at the time, and I don't want that. Keep your dreams of the white picket fence to yourself!

I like my hubcap-less car, my unbrushed hair, my wrinkly dresses, and my like for what you call, "depressing noise that all sounds alike." Beach House is not depressing. They're uplifting and poignant.

Just when I had to get over my own insecurities about not being a "career professional" with a "small mortgage" or "permanent apartment situation" with a "long-term significant other" or at least "a cat", my parents have to randomly call or text me to share their suffocating fear of the moment.

"Lauren! I was just washing the car and I have to tell you, I worry about your choice in men. You seem to go after men like your father and I understand that you never really dealt with his leaving and all..."

"Hey, Mom. I'm on the can, I'll call you later."

"Ok, I just had to tell you. Let's talk more about this later. "

Mom, Dad, I love you and you guys are my best buds. However, talking to your daughter about your concerns for your daughter is not wise. I had to down three shots of tequila in a row last night just to get over the recommendation to move back to New York. You will push me to drink and I will ultimately have to go to a therapist (again) and constantly blame you for everything (again).

"I knew this was going to happen! This always happens! You move in, she goes. You move in, she goes." Rob Gordon's Mom says to him after his girlfriend moves out in "High Fidelity".

"Shut up Mom! That's some cold shit!" Is all Rob can muster up in return.

Aren't we all just a misunderstood Rob Gordon?