Sorry to Disappoint You

I think I went to church twice my whole four years in college, but I always go when I'm in the Black Hole. I think part of it is out of habit, and I think the other part is because it's the closest I can get to the feeling of "home" these days. I grew up knowing all the people, and they treat me like their own child despite the fact that I'm a completely different person from who I was when I actually went to church there. If we sat down and had a real conversation about my life in the past 3 years, I'm pretty sure they would think I needed some serious prayer time with laying on of hands and speaking in tongues or something. Nevertheless, it's nice to sit in the pew and revert to my innocent 15-year-old self  for an hour or so. And it feels good to be welcomed back with big hugs and smiles - sometimes, I feel like their little lost child.

But like everybody else, they annoy me with their incessant questions in their twangy east Texas accents:

• "You're graduated! What now?"
• "English major? You gonna teach?" (NO!)
• "You moving back here?" (Hell to the no!)
• "Writer, huh?"
• "Alaska? Your family doesn't know how to stay put, does it?"
• "What are you doing for a year then?" (followed by a frown when I don't have a real answer.)

Somewhere in the midst of all the questions, I think I started lying. Saying, "I'm moving to Arkansas," is easier than saying, "Well, I've applied for something, but I don't know if I have it or not. So, I don't really have a plan right now." With them, it feels like I'm disappointing them in a way. After all, I bravely moved off to South Africa in 11th grade, then went to a private college that none of them could seem to remember the location of, and I managed to finish in four years with a good GPA, and now I don't have a plan? It doesn't seem to fit.

Right before I was about to leave dejectedly, I got into a conversation with a guy who used to help with the youth group when I was in middle and high school.
Same question: "What are you doing now?"
I replied honestly, "I'm going to grad school, but I'm taking a year off."
"Where you going?"
"Alaska," I said with a giggle.
'Why Alaska?"
I responded with my usual spiel about the program and wanting to go somewhere new.
"Why you being self-conscious about it?"
I looked at him blankly; I had no idea what he was talking about.
"If you want to go to Alaska, go to Alaska. But don't be self-conscious about it."
"Well, it's difficult when everyone is so incredulous about it," I replied bitterly.
"Who cares? It's your life. So, what are you doing for a year?"
"I don't know yet."
"Good. You're...22? You don't need a plan."

Thank you! I feel like just because I graduated from a good school, I'm expected to suddenly have my head screwed on straight. I don't, and neither do most of my friends who graduated with me. Come to think of it, neither do most adults I know; they usually aren't doing what they really want to be doing. Our society expects us to do something with our lives immediately after we are kicked out of the doors of our respective institutions. We have to be good little practical products of a machine. But screw you machine, I think I'd like to live first.