Now if you know anything about sparrows, you probably know they build themselves a nest of twigs and branches and other stuff. That nest is a sparrow’s home. Like most homes, the sparrow’s home contains a mommy-sparrow and a daddy-sparrow. Granted, nowadays things have gotten more complicated in the nuclear sparrow family, and where there was once just a daddy and mommy sparrow, often times there are two mommy-sparrows, or two daddy-sparrows, or one mommy-sparrow and an absentee-daddy-sparrow that flew off with his Russian-receptionist-sparrow. Anyway, the point is: Sparrows make nest homes for themselves. Now it is in these nest homes that the mommy or daddy sparrows hatch children, find worms, fend off owls and eagles and other things, and ultimately see to it that their sparrow-children reach adulthood in tact. This culminates in a massive celebration, where the sparrow-child flies off into the wild blue yonder and all the sparrow’s friends and family show up and cheer and there are lots of seeds and worms and other stuff. This important time in a sparrow’s life is called a Quinceañera, which is a gibberish word scientists made up.
In a perfect world, after its Quinceañera, the sparrow-child flies off and builds himself a new home of twigs and branches and other stuff. Eventually the sparrow will meet a she-sparrow and have unprotected sex with it, and then the she-sparrow will get pregnant and move into his nest, and that’s exactly how it happens for sparrows.
To be sure, once in a while, a sparrow-child will return from living on its own, back to the nest in which it was raised. Why would a sparrow-child move back to its nest? Maybe it was a bad year for finding worms. Maybe the sparrow was having trouble attracting a mate. Maybe the sparrow was cold and sleepy and just wanted shelter from the cruel world in which it was floundering. Whatever the reason, point is, sparrow-children move back to the nests in which they were raised all the time and it’s nothing for a sparrow-child to be ashamed of.
When you think about it (and do take a moment to seriously think about it) all you really are is a human sparrow. That’s all any of us are. We hatch, we live in our parent’s nests, we eat worms and seeds, and then we set off into the world hoping to make for ourselves a bright shiny future. And of course, like sparrows, some of us return to our parent’s nests after brief stints in the wild. It is not ideal, sure. It makes attracting a mate difficult, indeed. But it is, in the end, something that happens to even the bravest boldest sparrow. So hey! Sparrow! Does the world outside of college seem cruel and unrelenting? Are you getting cold and sleepy just thinking about having to fend for yourself out there all alone? Are you seriously considering moving back to your parent’s house after graduation? Don’t worry sparrow, for you are not alone. I present: “5 Reasons You’ll Move Back Home After Graduation.”
1. Our Economy is Shit
Blame Obama. Blame Bush. Personally, I blame the Illuminati because clearly Kanye West and the creepy pyramid on the back of the one-dollar bill have everything to do with this. Whoever you blame, the fact remains, our economy is shit. What does this mean for you? It means that you’re going to have a tough time finding dutiful employment out of college. Sure, there are jobs out there. You could enlist in the military, for example (and if you do, respect to ya.) Or you could get an unpaid internship (but “unpaid internship” means that you’re still unemployed only now you’re someone’s unemployed bitch.) The worst thing you could do in this situation would be to move off into the world with no game plan in hopes that one day you meet a gentleman in a Denny’s who, after sizing you up, ascertains that surely you must have developed all sorts of real-world acumen having recently majored in something called “General Business,” and hires you starting that day to work for his hedge-fund at 2k a week plus a company Kia. Dream on, sparrow. You’ll have better luck inventing Facebook. What you can do is move back home, catch your breath, eat some home-cooked meals, and come up with a realistic game plan (which by the way, should never include the words “unpaid” and “internship.”)
2. You’re Going To Be A Famous DJ Soon
All the long hours you spent perfectly mashing up B.o.B.’s “Airplanes pt. II” with “Little Lion Man” will have finally paid off because soon you are going to be a world-renowned DJ. You have a real knack for it. Some might say “a genius”, in fact. And when you think about it (something you do all the time) you are a genius. You’re not like other lesser DJ’s that merely hit play on an iPod at their little cousin Ariel’s Bat Mitzvah (although you did DJ your little cousin Ariel’s Bat Mitzvah like a freakin’ boss.) No, DJ’s are creative mixmaster geniuses, and you are cream of the crop mixmaster genius material. One morning, a gruff record exec will hear one of your funky-ass mixes and immediately alert everyone at the label of your totally sick mashup abilities (“This kid mashed Mumford and Sons up with what?!) Soon you’ll be flying out to DJ clubs in Paris and Milan and a million other chill-as-hell locales, and who’s the stoned-out-of-his-mind-lazy-ass-slacker now, huh? Not you, brother. Not you. But that’s three months away—at least. Until then, live at home, design your merch, do your drugs, and wait patiently for the inevitable.
3. You’re Waiting On Your Girlfriend to Graduate
In the beginning you had fun in college. You got rowdy, got drunk, found yourself head deep in your dorm’s toilet bowl once every few wild weekends. But all that ended when you met your sophomore sweetheart (we’ll call her Samantha.) After you met Samantha you were a classic no-show at parties, at bars. When your friends texted “Wudup homey?” you ignored them, preferring to spend Saturday nights with Sammy in her dorm room cuddling and watching Curb; the two of you the picture perfect poster-children of domesticity. While your boys lived out their final year of college in a misty haze of hedonism, revelry and marijuana smoke, you spent your last year of college playing house like an idiot. And now? Now Samantha’s a junior, and your plan is to move in with her once she graduates in two years (I repeat: In Two Years!) Until then, you’ll stick it out and live with your folks. Are you a fool? Yes, most definitely. But you’re a fool in love, and so while I don’t quite understand it, I respect it.
4. You Majored in Communications
Let’s look at this actual quote from my alma matter UMass Amherst’s Communications Department homepage: “As a Communication major, you’ll develop analytical abilities that help you understand how communication works, whether in an argument between friends, [or] a political speech.” What the hell does any of that actually mean? An argument between friends? A political speech? Seriously? You chose the major that helps you during an argument with friends? Odd choice there, sparrow. But hey look, let’s be real: You majored in communications because you recognized it would be the easiest track to tackle while maintaining your intensive binge-drinking regiment. I get that. Just don’t be shocked when potential employers pass over you and your well-developed arguing abilities in favor of the dude who spent four years busting his ass in computer science.
5. You’re Taking Time Off Before Grad School
How much fun was college? You probably had sex like—wait, let me guess—all the time? You did, didn’t you? You dog! I get it, though. There were eligible cuties everywhere and hey, you were a king back then, am I right? Of course I’m right. We were all kings back then. But look, now the party’s over, and, just like after every run of the mill drug binge, there’s going to be a comedown period after graduation. That’s all fine and good, and hell, your folks’ house is as fine a place as any to decompress after four years of undergraduate madness. Now there will be those among you who, after your college comedown period, adjust to the norms and rituals of the adult world. You’ll get a job, move out, make money, and begin to create for yourself a life. Then there will be those among you who will have a burning itch to do it all over again and will begin applying to grad schools. These people are junkies, and they’ll spend the rest of their lives in and out of academic institutions chasing that initial high. I have news for you: Your first time around the tar pit is your best time around the tar pit. Quit while you’re ahead, young sparrow, for you’re playing with fire, and you’re bound to get burnt eventually.
Alright, that’s it. For those of you graduating, congrats. For those of you doing a fifth year, Godspeed. For the rest of you, be safe, go hard, don’t disrespect women.
[Man living at home image via ShutterStock]