I guess you find an identity wherever you find an identity.  When you are an immigrant or some kind of “second” (I’ll explain that TK), that is particularly difficult.  I envy those people who can just say “I’m from here.  No further information.”

I’m a “second.”  That means I was born in one place, moved to another and settled in yet another.  I know people who are from Europe, grew up in the Middle East and then settled in America.  My story isn’t nearly that complex.  I was born in Poland, I grew up in New York and now I love in the greatest place on earth, New England.

I joke with my mom that we are preppiest Polish people ever.  My mom and I have discussions about the word “summer” as in how to use it as a verb.  We’ve also had disagreements about patterns at Lily Pulitzer.  How we came upon this interesting identity is anyone’s guess.  I’ve always liked the preppies though, style-wise and aspired to them education wise.

And now I get to “summer” or in this case “weekend” where they weekend.  Is weekend a verb now??  Who knows??  English is weird after all.

Weekending in Maine.  With the rest of preppie brethren.  Now brethren is definitely a preppie word.