Assimilated

*cough* *sneeze* *sniffle*

Oh, it’s been a week!

That’s right, it’s plague time again in Mandyland.

Currently everyone is fighting some sort of crud…

Except our sweet angel…

Or

Plague Carrying Mini Beast…

Depending on how you spin it.

Miss M. is generally doing okay. But Mr. Man and I had it bad.

As my Dad says,

“We had couds in our nouds”

On Monday we were all down for the count. Mr. Man, Miss M. and I spent the day laying on the couch, drinking orange juice and watching movies.

However, being responsible adults, Tuesday we had to haul our butts out of bed and get back to work.

Blearily, I made my way into the office, checked messages, got the update from the boss and decided around 9:30 that coffee needed to happen ASAP. Quickly grabbing wallet and coat, I made my way to my favorite local coffee slinger, Lotus & Bean.

Even when I’m feeling crappy this place makes me smile. Their Mocha’s are delicious and the owner Jen knows ALL her regulars by name. As soon as I walk through the door Jen, or a member of her amazing staff, is greeting me with a smile and asking if I want my usual. .

Oh and the apple fritters…. Don’t even get me started on the crispy-fluffy-tasty-divinity of the apple fritters!

So, greeted by smiles and the mouthwatering smell of coffee, I eagerly placed my order and as the last words left my mouth I had an epiphany…

It was official, I’d been assimilated.

Let me explain.

Among the commonly held beliefs surrounding Pacific North Westerners, I find two hold amazingly true.

1. You always know a native by the fact that they walk around in the pouring rain sans umbrella. Wholeheartedly convinced that if they simply ignore the rain, they won’t get wet.

And

2. They have taken your average cup of joe up about 100 notches, and they are very particular about personalizing it to their exact tastes.

When I first moved to the Portland area, my coffee order usually consisted of pointing to the menu board and choosing what sounded most interesting.

But now….

Well…

This is my usual order…

A Venti, non-fat, no-whip, extra-hot, Mocha (and sometimes I ask for an extra shot).

For those of you who don’t speak coffee, that means I want a…

Big as you’ve got, Mocha Latte, made using non-fat milk, heated till it screams for mercy, with no whip cream added to the top (and an extra shot of espresso added, for those days when I need a little extra get up and go).

Like I said... assimilated.

Now if I could just stop giving myself away by commenting “It’s raining cats and dogs out there, eh?

How about the rest of you? Ever had a moment when you felt like you’d officially adopted the native culture of where you’re living? I’d love to hear your stories of assimilation!

Until next time, enjoying my fancy cup of joe,

Mandy:)