The 14 Whitest Things I’ve Ever Done

Olga Popova /">Olga Popova /
“Do you like sushi?” my friend asked me just the other day. It was a weird question; uncharacteristic, if you will. But mostly foolish. I mean, really; what kind of white girl does he think I am?

1. Learned all the lyrics to the Rent soundtrack.

Last night’s episode of Girls resonated with me for many reasons, but the Rent reference hit the closest to home. It’s unclear what it was, specifically about Rent, that attracted white girls everywhere—perhaps the AIDS-ridden cast, or the industrial setting? Whatever the reason, droves of white girls flew to HMV and Tower Records to pick up a copy of the soundtrack, brought it home, popped it into their boom box and didn’t leave until they had every word memorized.

Or was that just me?

2. I ordered from Postmates.

Postmates, for those unaware, is a gratuitously expensive delivery service that promises to deliver from pretty much any restaurant in New York City, and all under an hour. And though I’ve only ordered through Postmates once, it was still one time too many.

3. Dressed up as Tupac for Halloween.

Unfortunately I did indeed do this. How, you ask? Cargo pants, sports bra, bandana on head, “Thug Life” written on stomach. It was the whitest attempt at portraying Tupac and I’m not proud of it.

4. Said “part deux.”

There’s just something irreparably white about utilizing your 11 years of French language class to casually toss in phrases like “zut alors!” and “pas vraiment…” when talking to your American friends. “Part deux” takes it up a notch because it’s not only part French, but trite too.

5. Getting all of the news from The Daily Show and The Colbert Report.

Wait, so you’re saying that getting all the news distilled into a humorous, sardonic, and Millenial-like form may not be entirely unbiased? Well that’s why I watch The Daily Show AND The Colbert Report—you know, to get the full scope of opinions.

7. Eat my latkes with creme fraiche and caviar.

Bringing up “latke” in an article is already white as it is, so it’s inevitable that dabbing some creme fraiche, smoked salmon and caviar on that latke would appear even whiter. Still, I recommend it.

8. Taking dance classes.

The glaucoma-like side-effects my dancing has had on my parents is already becoming very profound. To trace the origins of my dancing classes is to follow the timeline of a white girl in search of rhythm. It started with tap dancing lessons, which I MURDERED for 7 years straight. Then I graduated onto “music video dancing”— a hip-hop dance class at a place called Dance Dance Dance, the agenda of which was to teach us Janet Jackson’s dance routine in her “All For You” music video. I’m not pointing fingers, but let’s just say the evidence has been laid out for you.

9. Spent buttloads of money on Juice Press.

It was about 6 months ago; a breezy day, with the rush of a new autumn wind, when I was first introduced to Juice Press. I told them I had a cold, they gave me a ginger firebomb and a spoonful of honey, and then robbed me for all I was worth. As a white girl, I’m utterly convinced of the medicinal powers of their juices and so have continued to spend nearly all of my paychecks on this god forsaken institution. Sometimes I don’t even go there willingly. I shit you not; sometimes, I’ll just find myself outside of Juice Press with no memory as to how I got there, as if they have a gravitational pull on me and every other white girl in search of a Beyoncé glow.

10. Was addicted to Tasti D-Lite.

It’s been said that one who’s fully enveloped in addiction tends to lose sight of him or herself and exists wholly unaware of his or her dependence. In hindsight, my Tasti addiction from 2002-2004 seems so obvious, and yet at the time I had no clue. I’d greet friends with rainbow sprinkle-filled smiles; I’d spend hours at a time at Tasti, soemtimes getting my small cup refilled 5 whole times. I even had them on speed dial.

Getting clean wasn’t easy and it certainly helped that a Juice Generation replaced my neighborhood Tasti. Sure, I slip up sometimes and relapse—I’m only human—but I’m happy to say my lips haven’t touched Tasti D-Lite in over a year.

11. I had my first sex dream with Shane West.

Everyone knows that Shane West is the whitest actor, second only to Jason Biggs. He stole my white heart in Whatever It Takes, and A Walk To Remember just sort of sealed the deal. With his cute button nose and his permanent hair flip, my white ass was smitten.

I even remember the day leading up to this dream. It was 2003, the night Sadam Hussein had officially declared war against us and in typically white girl fashion I was visited in my dreams that night by Shane West, his soft kisses against my neck palliating my anxiety.

12. My first screen name was named after Sugar Ray.

“The name’s Sugarach,” I often say, when I’m feeling silly. Although it wouldn’t be a lie; Sugarach was my childhood screen name and the name has sort of stuck as everyone’s go-to nickname for me. I know what you’re thinking: clever name. And you’d be right, except for the fact that its origins lie in the whitest of bands to ever grace America: Mark McGrath’s Sugar Ray.

13. Nothing To Lose was my favorite movie.

And there was really no rhyme or reason for it either. One day I saw Nothing To Lose and the next day it was my favorite movie. Obviously favorite movies are hard to come by, and so I held tightly onto this one, for the next 8 years. What can I say—Tim Robbins and Martin Lawrence are an unparalleled duo.

14. Kept a small photo of Audrey Hepburn in my apartment.

You know that feeling of waking up, having a come-to Jesus moment and realizing you’ve pretty much been asleep or at least lost in some dreamscape for what feels like the past year? Yeah, well that happened to me the other day when I noticed a small—but NOT UNNOTICEABLE—photo of Audrey Hepburn that I must have tacked onto my wall in a frenzied white-girl state. I looked at it, shook my head in dismay, and could muster up nothing more than a “Fuck, I’m white.” Thought Catalog Logo Mark

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