Q: I come from a small town in Wisconsin, and I’m having a little trouble adjusting to the Portland lifestyle. Any suggestions on fitting in?

A: You came to the right advice column, mate. Being different than everybody else can be lonely, but it’s also your biggest advantage.

Take me, for example. I’m a venomous, egg-laying, semi-aquatic, duck-billed, beaver-tailed mammal with a reptilian gait. You think that made primary school easy for me? Just imagine the things the kids will call you when your name is Platypus. “Platypussy,” “Fatypus,” and “that duck-billed ass-shover,” spring to mind. Kids can be cruel.

But that was grade school. This is college. The traits I used to resent about myself are now helping me thrive socially. The reptiles, birds, mammals, and amphibians all identify with me. I’m like the Ferris Beuller of the animal kingdom. Yeah, sure, everyone wanted to be one of the sharks in high school, but now the sharks are just slack-jawed fish.

As far as Portland goes, the first rule of fitting in is standing out. Do some homework on the cultural uniqueness of this fair city. No where will you find a broader cross-section of rich characters than on a quick MAX ride. That guy with the facial tattoos? The lady who talking to herself about all the suicides in her family? The man muttering an elaborate string of numbers between saying things like “Sunday is the Lord’s day” and “I’m not perfect?” All interesting threads of a much larger social tapestry – you just need to needle up and weave yourself in there.

You have experience that no one else has, so share it. I’m sure you have all kinds of interesting stories from…wait, Wisconsin?

Hmmm…

Then again, maybe you should just buy some tight pants, a difficult to ride bicycle and start listening to the most obscure bands you can find. That seems to work for everyone else.