Or, as Pat Rothfuss far more charitably calls them: delicate Northwestern orchids. I love living in Washington. The people are nice, the summers are gorgeous, and the winters are mild. There is a very narrow temperature variance here. When it hits 90°F for a couple days in the summer, NPR tells you to check on your elderly neighbors: no one here
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That was the most fun I've ever seen. People were sledding down the hills in Capital Hill on whatever they could find: woks, bits of cardboard, whatever.
The buses were trying their best to move people around, but the routes would spontaneously change, so if you saw a bus, you'd just get on it and hope it got you closer to where you wanted to be. Drive? While I had ABS and traction control (and took drivers ed in winter), I knew nobody else had a clue. Wasn't going to risk getting smashed into by somebody who had no idea how to drive with a little powder...and it had to just stay on the ground because why have plows?
I always thought it was funny that people pulled out puffy coats when it hit 40. I was fine in my sweatshirt. The problem is that I was out there long enough to get acclimated to it. It sure took a long time to get used to Minnesota when I got back. I had become a pansy.
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