This blog is 3 1/2 years old. It is tremendously bizarre to me how far I have come in those years. I read some of my older posts and think, "I can't believe I said that!" But that's what this is. A chronicle of my life, growing up, and whatnot.
Speaking of growing up, this post is one about some oddities of my upbringing that make me uncomfortable. I swear on me mum that it is pure weird coincidence that I am writing this on the first day of black history month. I've been thinking on it for a few months but...you know, "stuff" has been "up."
The first thing you need to know is this: I am a white girl. My mom, a Lehman, is a white lady. Her mom, a Wolff, is a white lady. We're not pure German, like my dad's side, or German-Irish-Polish like Husband. We don't really know fully where we come from, but that's not important. What is important is that I joke, in the summer, about bringing back the "Elizabeth I look," and that I spent my formative years in suburban/rural Wisconsin. I am a white girl.
And yet.
