You Know You're From Portland When . . .

Two-thirds of the people you know are from California, yet there is no sun.
You can list five reasons why Starbucks is evil.
You blame everything that's not right on ex-Californians.
Every restaurant serves espresso . . . even the Asian places.
You remember the date, severity, time of day, where you were, and how long you were out of power for every winter weather event for the last five years.
You know what and when the Columbus Day storm was. Bonus for having been there.
If it ever snows, even the grownups are outside playing in it.
You go to a coffee bar and see two guys get into a fight over who makes the best India Pale Ale.
You can go a whole week without seeing the sun or a person of color.
You have a bookstore, coffee bar, and brewpub all within walking distance of your house.
You think downtown is scary 'cause you were panhandled there . . . once.
When you drive out of town, even the Hondas have gun racks.
When the weather gets above 50 degrees you put on your shorts, but you still wear hiking boots and your parka.
When the weather gets above 60 you replace your hiking boots with sandals.
"Going to the beach" entails bundling up in three layers of clothes.
You have never had a tan in your life.
You think people who use umbrellas are wimps.
You can recount more than five anecdotes about why the East Side is a crime-infested jungle . . . OR . . . You can list more than five reasons why the West Side is a snobby, white-bread suburb.
You know what it is in between the East Side and the West Side, and how to pronounce it. (The Willamette . . . and its "Wil-LAM-ett.")
You are sitting at a red light surrounded by Subaru Legacy Outbacks.
A tree or mudslide has ever damaged your house or car.
You live equidistant to a symphony hall, a winery, and a volcano.