![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
Wednesday, 20 July 2005 05:04 pm
Back on the hunt
I was going to make a long post about my trip to Anthrocon 2005, but it has been longer than two weeks and I doubt my readers' interest in most of what I had to say. Suffice it to say that the most important parts are not what I did there but what I've done since. The house felt different on return, in ways that it hadn't after my first Anthrocon.
Perhaps being surrounded chiefly by members of my age group and other demographics - in person rather than online - got me to acknowledge emotionally how long it's been since I properly had the experience. More than a year has elapsed since I graduated college, and work and church don't offer much of the 20-something comeraderie. Also, while I was not exactly weird for having my mom around part of the time (no matter what Rain Luong says), it raised my self-consciousness.
Finally, a couple of sessions (more workshops and lectures than fun panels this year) reassured me that I still have artistic ability and could even find inspiration easily enough. I've just been holding myself back. The clearest reasons are fear of embarrassment and a recurring feeling that my time would be better spent either lazily or doing something "more productive than art." But ironically, I also have a feeling that living with my biggest admirers has made it harder for me to cut loose. I don't know why. Maybe it has to do with my perception of my mom as a major general faultfinder, even tho she always seems justified when she does. Such is the thankless job of a loving mother, I guess.
Bottom line: I finally have sufficient motivation to move out. To get a change of scene, especially the social scene. To make myself have to be extra responsible. To grow up, if you will. I'm not just bringing in the Apartment section of the paper and thinking I'll look at it eventually. I've been checking Craig's List, emailing or phoning potential apartments, and visiting open houses frequently.
At this point, I've determined that I want at least two roommates, preferably more. They shouldn't be the type to keep me up at night, and I wouldn't want to cook for a group, but neither should our circles never coincide. And they must be a mix of men and women. I knew from camp that being the only male makes me feel out of place and being part of an all-male group makes me feel like a chauvinist, but I had to learn this fact of personal comfort anew.
Perhaps being surrounded chiefly by members of my age group and other demographics - in person rather than online - got me to acknowledge emotionally how long it's been since I properly had the experience. More than a year has elapsed since I graduated college, and work and church don't offer much of the 20-something comeraderie. Also, while I was not exactly weird for having my mom around part of the time (no matter what Rain Luong says), it raised my self-consciousness.
Finally, a couple of sessions (more workshops and lectures than fun panels this year) reassured me that I still have artistic ability and could even find inspiration easily enough. I've just been holding myself back. The clearest reasons are fear of embarrassment and a recurring feeling that my time would be better spent either lazily or doing something "more productive than art." But ironically, I also have a feeling that living with my biggest admirers has made it harder for me to cut loose. I don't know why. Maybe it has to do with my perception of my mom as a major general faultfinder, even tho she always seems justified when she does. Such is the thankless job of a loving mother, I guess.
Bottom line: I finally have sufficient motivation to move out. To get a change of scene, especially the social scene. To make myself have to be extra responsible. To grow up, if you will. I'm not just bringing in the Apartment section of the paper and thinking I'll look at it eventually. I've been checking Craig's List, emailing or phoning potential apartments, and visiting open houses frequently.
At this point, I've determined that I want at least two roommates, preferably more. They shouldn't be the type to keep me up at night, and I wouldn't want to cook for a group, but neither should our circles never coincide. And they must be a mix of men and women. I knew from camp that being the only male makes me feel out of place and being part of an all-male group makes me feel like a chauvinist, but I had to learn this fact of personal comfort anew.
