"Is Your Butt Lighter Than Your Face?"

I haven't been living the White Life very long. Well, that's not true. I'm the Lone Negro in my office building...my gym...and any place I go in Sherman Oaks. Before that, I was the usually the only Black person (or one of maybe 3) in my classes in high school, college, etc. And when I was a kid, people used to tease me for "talking White." What I should say is that I just recently started embracing the White Life. And what, pray tell, made me do that? It was when I joined a White church.

Even though I love Black churches -- God knows I do, with all my heart -- my move to GZFATW (Ground Zero for All Things White) has made it necessary to go to a White church. And don't get me wrong...I love my new church. They're a great group of people who really love the Lord and have embraced me.

But don't get it twisted -- there are some definite differences. For one, as a Southern Black girl, I'm used to dressing up on Sunday morning. The way I see it, if I can look nice to go to the movies/the mall/the job, I should be able to look cute for Jesus, too. This especially true if I'm singing in the choir. That's one of the many remnants from my Black life that I haven't released (and probably won't).

So I wear dresses, and the other ladies wear slacks. One woman said, "You look nice, but you won't ever catch me in a dress." When I asked why, she replied, "Because my legs are WHITE!"

Okay...that statement COMPLETELY blindsided me! But I pulled myself together enough to say, "Ma'am, I hate to tell you this (as I looked to my left and my right to make sure no one would hear what I was about to say) but YOU'RE White. So it would stand to reason that your legs would be White, too." That's when she told me about one of the many pitfalls of actually being White (as opposed to living the White life) -- untanned legs.

As I was pondering this statement, another lady looked at me and asked, you guessed it, "Is your butt lighter than your face?" Again, wasn't prepared for that. I mean, who looks at their backside on a regular basis? Better question...who keeps that info on speed dial? After blinking back my surprise, I told her that my milk chocolate skintone was the same all over my body...with a few unmentionable exceptions.

And that, ladies and gentlemen, is a day in My White Life...

Welcome to My White Life

Welcome to my blog, Living My White Life! Before we start on this journey, there are a few things you should know...

First, I'm not white. I'm a Black girl. I just happened to have landed smack-dab in the middle of Sherman Oaks, California...Or as I like to call it, Ground Zero for All Things White. It's also the place where White People are manufactured.

Second, I'm not a racist. Before you put in a call to your congressman, or worse, the NAACP, just know this...I love all people. Unless, of course, they give me a reason not to. But that's another subject for another time.

Finally, the opinions expressed on this blog are mine, and mine alone. I'm putting that out there for those of you who believe that every Black person speaks for every other Black person. Contrary to popular belief, we are not a monolithic people. That means that I cannot speak for everyone. So when you read something here, don't go asking your Black friends about it because they may not appreciate the questions.

Now we've gotten all that out of the way, stay tuned for random installments of Living My White Life by M. Mathews.