A Year in Books

Whew…it has been a ridiculously long time since I have graced this dear blog of mine with my presence, hasn’t it? Sorry about that, kids. I’d say I’m going to try to do better in the new year, but, well…we’ll see. I have high hopes. In my defense, my blogging energies have been largely taken up by the posts I did for the Loft during my internship (gonna miss you, Loft!), so now that it’s over, maybe I’ll actually find the motivation to post here with something resembling regularity. Cross your fingers for me, ‘kay? Thanks.

Anyway! I didn’t come here to give you a list of long, drawn-out excuses, so let’s cut to the chase. On January 1st, 2012, I set a goal for myself to read 50 books by the time the next New Year’s Day rolled around. I’m happy to report that the venture has been a profound success! I read a grand total of 52 books in 2012. Granted, a few of them were manga books. And a LOT of them were re-reads (because a book worth enjoying once is worth enjoying twice, dang it! Or several times…). But it was my reading goal and this is my blog, and I get to make the rules. So there!

So since I know you’re all dying to see it, here’s Kristen’s Fancy Book List of Doom:

Books of 2012

1. Divergent – Veronica Roth
2. Inheritance – Christopher Paolini
3. Watchmen – Alan Moore (ill. Dave Gibbons)
4. Stardust – Neil Gaiman
5. Matched – Ally Condie
6. A Game of Thrones – George R. R. Martin
7. Impossible – Nancy Werlin (re-read)
8. Library Wars Volume 6 – Kiiro Yumi
9. Library Wars Volume 7 – Kiiro Yumi
10. Ella Enchanted – Gail Carson Levine (re-read)
11. The Hunger Games – Suzanne Collins (re-read)
12. Catching Fire – Suzanne Collins (re-read)
13. Mockingjay – Suzanne Collins (re-read)
14. A Clash of Kings – George R. R. Martin
15. Vampire Academy – Richelle Mead
16. The Two Princesses of Bamarre – Gail Carson Levine (re-read)
17. Ouran High School Host Club 17 – Bisco Hatori
18. The Scorpio Races – Maggie Steifvater
19. Insurgent – Veronica Roth
20. StarCrossed – Elizabeth Bunce
21. Smooth Talking Stranger – Lisa Kleypas
22. John Carter of Mars; Book One: A Princess of Mars – Edgar Rice Burroughs
23. Frostbite – Richelle Mead
24. Peter Pan – J.M. Barrie
25. Slaughterhouse-Five – Kurt Vonnegut
26. Daughter of Time – Sarah Woodbury
27. Looking for Alaska – John Green
28. Drums of Autumn – Diana Gabaldon
29. Pirates! – Celia Rees
30. Masque of the Red Death – Bethany Griffin
31. Y: The Last Man, Vol. 1: Unmanned – Brian K. Vaughan
32. Never Let Me Go – Kazuo Ishiguro
33. Percy Jackson & the Olympians: The Lightning Thief – Rick Riordan
34. Treasure Island – Robert Louis Stevenson
35. Percy Jackson & the Olympians: The Sea of Monsters – Rick Riordan
36. God’s Debris: A Thought Experiment – Scott Adams
37. Abandon – Meg Cabot
38. The Goddess Test – Aimée Carter
39. Savannah by the Sea – Denise Hildreth
40. Redeeming Love – Francine Rivers (re-read)
41. The Fault in Our Stars – John Green
42. Library Wars: Volume 8 – Kiiro Yumi
43. Ophelia – Lisa M. Klein (re-read)
44. Forever – Maggie Steifvater
45. Harry Potter and the Sorcerer’s Stone – J.K. Rowling (re-read)
46. The Lord of the Rings: The Fellowship of the Ring – J.R.R. Tolkien (re-read)
47. The Lion, The Witch, and the Wardrobe – C.S. Lewis (re-read)
48. Graceling – Kristin Cashore (re-read)
49. Legend – Marie Lu
50. Bridge to Terabithia – Katherine Paterson
51. First Date – Krista McGee
52. Beauty – Robin McKinley (re-read)

Whew. Just look at all those beautiful titles! I’ve gotta say, 2012 was a pretty ridiculously fun year, reading-wise. I think it’s time for some reviews! Before you run away screaming, don’t worry; I’m not going to talk about every single one of these (no matter how interesting it might be to test my memory thusly), because that would be dumb. But I’m in the mood to write some of my patently vast, haphazard book reviews, so we’re gonna top-three it up.

Let us begin!

1. The Fault in Our Stars – John Green

I’ll come right out and say it–this book broke me in the best way possible, and I can’t recommend it enough. You all know about my deep and abiding adoration for John Green and his works, and this book strengthened that admiration by quite a wide margin. TFiOS is the story of Hazel Grace Lancaster, a 16-year-old with terminal cancer that she’s managed to stave off for a while with the help of a miraculous tumor-shrinking drug. She’s coping as well as she can under the circumstances, but it’s only when she meets Augustus Waters, a cancer survivor and an almost impossibly beautiful human being, that she truly begins to make the most of her life, however much or little of it is left.

I know what you’re thinking; you’re sure this is one of those “cancer books” that takes a lot of emotional cheap shots and goes on and on about the protagonists’ heroism. But before you judge this book as a Lurlene-McDaniel-esque sap-fest, think again; TFiOS is so much more than a book about cancer. It asks some pretty huge questions, such as–how do we find meaning in a seemingly meaningless loss of life? How do we cope with something that’s unbearable? And what, in the end, does it mean to truly love someone?

Don’t be frightened off by all of these deep thoughts, though; there are plenty of funny moments to be had as well. Hazel and Augustus are two teenagers, after all, and are as goofy and witty and pretentious and charming as any teenagers you could hope to meet. In short, they’re some of the more realistic characters I’ve had the pleasure of coming across, and that makes the messages they have to share hit home all the more.

I will warn you, this book pulls no punches. I bawled like a baby through the last fifty pages or so. But like John Green has said in the past, “It hurts because it matters.” You won’t come out of this book unscathed. But then, why would you want to?

2. Watchmen – Alan Moore

Hey, look at that; I read a decently literary graphic novel among the manga books I consumed this year! And what an amazing ride it was. In my opinion, Watchmen is one of those “everyone-needs-to-read-it-at-some-point” books. It’s without a doubt the most interesting take on the superhero genre that I’ve ever read. It paints a pretty believable picture of what the world would really look like if superheroes existed, rather than the idealized worlds we see in most superhero comics.

The story consists of numerous plot threads that are woven together so skillfully that one’s mind is well and truly blown by the end of the novel. Just as in the real world, none of Watchmen‘s characters are fully good or fully evil, and everybody has their own agenda to follow, noble or vile as each may be. Each character has their own unique foibles, some larger than others, that tend to squelch their best efforts, sometimes before they’ve even begun, and though many of them band together to try and stop the insidious corruption that has infiltrated their lives, in the end, they find themselves in a place they never expected (and never wanted) to be.

Goodness…was that vague enough for you? As you can see, I’m finding this book to be a rather difficult one to explain. It’s just that there’s so much to take away from this book that one almost has to pick one thread at a time to follow in order to navigate it. Suffice it to say that this is one novel that would get better and better with multiple rereads, amazing as it already is.

3. Never Let Me Go – Kazuo Ishiguro

Why yes, I am still reading dystopian novels like there’s no tomorrow! This time, though, I veered away from YA for two seconds and read a book for grownups. I’d heard great things about this book from a couple of my readerly friends, so I decided to give it a go. The fact that I wanted to see the movie version that stars Andrew Garfield may also have influenced my choice. But I digress.

Dark as it is, I very much enjoyed this book. It’s set in an alternate-universe Britain during the 1990′s, and the protagonists grow up together in a boarding-school-style living situation, without parents or relatives. They know they’re being raised for a specific purpose, but only when they are older do they realize the truth of that purpose–as well as how sinister it is.

Though the setting and the protagonists’ way of life are far removed from the world as we know it, it’s incredible how deeply real everything feels. I don’t think I’ve ever seen the subtleties and difficulties of social interaction described with such minute accuracy, and even though my situation (or anyone’s, really) is nothing like that of the protagonists, I found them and their interactions with each other to be so relateable it was almost scary (stop reading my mind, Ishiguro!). It was like seeing a spot-on representation of all those little tiny moments between myself and other people that I’ve always wished I could describe but have never been able to.

More than that, the book is chilling and tragic without being overtly depressing. It deals with people who are caught up in, and completely shaped by, a system that is absolutely out of their control, despite their best efforts to find meaning and power within it. One can’t help wondering whether Ishiguro is asking us to examine our own lives and ask ourselves if we are similarly bound. And if so, if there’s anything we can (or should) do about it.

In short, this is one meaty book. I hope to re-read it sometime and delve even more deeply into it than I did during the first go-round.

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So there you have it, folks! Though my top three ended up being pretty weighty selections, I’m proud to say that this has been a wonderfully varied and enjoyable year where books are concerned. Here’s hoping for even more awesomeness in 2013!

But enough about me; what are your readerly goals and resolutions for this year? Will you be striving for a 50-book list too, or something different? I’d love to hear about what sort of literary shenanigans you’ll be getting up to this year!

I Have a Love-Hate Relationship with John Green

The poor man doesn’t know it, but it’s the truth, my friends. As I discussed here, I recently discovered (well, re-discovered, really) his works, both literary and videologgy. And no matter what you think of him, you can’t deny this: The man knows how to use his words (And tells us to do the same in his vlogs, incidentally. I’M TRYING JOHN OKAY). Like, he seriously knows how. As in, I can count on one hand the number of people I’ve encountered in my life that are as articulate as he is. But while his thoughts about the world are always elegantly, simply, and beautifully stated, my thoughts about him are hard to define. And so, for your reading pleasure, the ubiquitous bulleted list:

• I love the fact that nothing is off-limits for Green when it comes to his writing. The good, the bad, the ugly. The transcendent and the base. All of it is fair game; all of it is subject to the piercing clarity of his wit and apparently ridiculously spot-on understanding of life in general.

• I hate the fact that nothing is off-limits. The stuff he talks about is IMPORTANT. Plain and simple. But after reading his work for a while, I get the same sort of feeling I get when someone pegs something about me, something uncomfortable and off-putting that I thought I had kept hidden. It’s a sort of mental nakedness that, while healthy and refreshing, is difficult to handle.

• I love his beautiful, quotable, impeccable prose. I freaking LOVE it, you guys. The way Green writes is every reader’s dream, and after I’ve been reading his work for a while, it rubs off on me. Even my casual thoughts sound polished and erudite–and not even in a pretentious way, but in a satisfyingly clear and endearingly intelligent way. At least, I think that’s how it is. Perhaps you would disagree if you could see into my head. And it’s a good thing you can’t, because all of these thoughts make even less sense in there. ANYWAY…

• I hate his beautiful, quotable, impeccable prose. It makes mine look like it was written by a fourth-grader, or possibly someone who is learning English. Like all artists, I experience a painful dichotomy when engaging with the masterpieces of others. I can appreciate wonderful art, but while doing so, I can never shake the piercing pain of longing when I realize how awesome I very clearly am NOT.

There it is, folks. My complicated feelings in all their glory(?). John Green will never read this, but if he did, I would tell him how infuriatingly awesome he is and what a roller-coastery yet satisfying experience it is to read his books and watch his and (the equally fantastic) Hank Green’s vlogs.

Oh, and by the way, DFTBA.

Notes from a Pathological Peacemaker

Whew. There is a heck of a lot of controversial topics being flung around these days, you guys.

It’s getting pretty overwhelming. Gay marriage, abortion, healthcare, presidential candidates (and Chick-fil-A, I guess?). There are always legitimate concerns on both sides of issues like these, and there have been plenty of intelligent, thoughtful, peaceful discussions about all of these things. However, I’ve noticed something lately (well, longer than lately, to be honest, but it seems especially apparent in recent months). No matter how many great points are put forth by both sides, no matter how intelligent and reasonable the debaters are, it takes approximately two seconds for things to escalate into an all-out screaming match.

I’m gonna come right out and say it; I’m freaking sick of seeing this happen. However, I understand why it does. These issues are very important to all of us, and we build our opinions on them using the most closely-held of our beliefs as a foundation. And when someone challenges those beliefs, it feels like they’re trying to rip apart our very essence. When it happens to me, I want to yell and cry in frustration and give those I disagree with a good shake and ask “WHAT IN THE NAME OF ALL GOODNESS ARE YOU THINKING?!” I want to scream my own views at them until they understand, until they see why the issue at hand are so vitally important to me. But I know that won’t help, so I revert to the more passive side of myself and try to let it slide off. I move on as best I can, wanting to convince the whole world but knowing I have practically no chance of convincing even one person.

Similarly, I know I won’t change anything by writing a post on a blog that about five people read. I have no illusions about my inability to start a peaceful revolution. But I have to say something.

So, in the interest of clarity, here is a more-or-less simplified list of the things I want you to know when it comes to bare-knuckle-brawling over hot-button issues.

• You may very well have some great things to say in favor of your argument, well-thought out things that you have carefully researched and constructed. You may be the most informed person on the planet when it comes to the topic at hand. But even so, remember that you have about as much chance of changing someone’s mind on something as they do of changing yours on the same topic. In most circumstances, someone would have to change their entire worldview (or at least huge parts of it…sorry. I’m a bit given to hyperbole, in case you hadn’t noticed…) before they’d be able to agree with you. This is possible, but it can only happen by degrees, never all at once. Never expect to be any more than a step on a long staircase that leads to a new way of thinking, and always expect to be even less than that.

• By all means, present your case when the situation calls for it. We need more intelligent responses about life in general. But don’t forget for a second that you have the power to ignite an inferno with the smallest word. Please, PLEASE, don’t do it deliberately, and if it happens anyway, stay calm. Feeding the fire just leaves gross-looking burns on everybody concerned.

• Contrary to popular belief, naked hatred will never, ever make you a more convincing debater, no matter how wittily you present it. It’ll just make people stop taking you seriously, whether they agree with you or not, because ad hominem arguments have not and will not ever be legitimate as a debate tactic. If using hatred makes people cheer you on, they’re not the kind of people you want backing you up anyway.

• Remember that the person you’re debating believes in their stance just as strongly as you do, and they feel that they have just as much justification for feeling and thinking the way they do about about a particular issue. As I said, most people base their opinions about these things on their dearest-held beliefs. Sometimes those beliefs deserve to be challenged, but this should only be done in love, not to mention extreme caution. Because you genuinely care about the other person’s well-being and believe that a new outlook is in their best interest, right? Right.

• Make sure you fully understand someone’s stance before you try to disprove it. If you don’t, you’ll just end up looking ridiculous and/or crazy in the long run. For example, don’t call someone a homophobe just because they don’t support gay marriage. Nonsupport of an issue does not automatically equal hatred or fear toward the people the issue concerns. It simply means that the nonsupporter has a legitimate, morally based reason for feeling as they do. By the same token, don’t go around saying that pro-choicers are murderers and heathens. They, too, are acting on a moral code, and see their stance as the only viable option for all concerned when it comes to such issues. These are just a couple of examples of the sort of misconceptions that tend to fly around when these arguments come up. There are hundreds more. Thankfully, though, most of them are easy to recognize. Keep a weather eye out and don’t let them blindside you. And for goodness’ sake, don’t get caught up in them.

The last thing I want to do is come across as condescending right now. I can’t stand condescension when it’s directed at me, and I sure as heck don’t want to do it to you. I try to keep the above in mind when I’m faced with these situations, but I’ll be the first to tell you that I fail constantly at it. Nor do I want to discourage you from standing up for your beliefs. PLEASE stand up for them. The world needs you to, but it needs you to do it with intelligence and love. All I want to say is that, when we get into situations like this, we need to take a moment to step back and take a closer look at what’s really happening before we go off on a tirade. Tirades have their place, but that place isn’t everywhere, you guys. Even if you only take a few moments to breathe deeply and think about where the other person is truly coming from, you’ll already have gained a victory. And even if you only remember the tiniest bit of this pathological peacemaker’s overly earnest ramblings, then I’ll have succeeded.

As I have said before and will say again, it comes down to this: if you’re not loving others, you’re doing it wrong. I don’t care who you are; I am required to act in love toward you, because I know that’s the only way that anything in this world will ever get solved.

And now, my dears, go have some intelligent discussions while I pack up my soapbox.

TTD – The Olympics

Howdy, friends (Howdy? Where did that come from? Is Texas finally rubbing off on me?)! It’s that time again…Tiny Thought for the Day time! Have you missed them? Good, me too. Anyway! I give you today’s TTD:

Like most of you, I really love the Olympics. Something that can make me actually care about sports every two years is pretty phenomenal in my book. But after seeing that commercial (narrated by the ubiquitous Morgan Freeman) about how, in 2008, a millisecond was the difference  between Michael Phelps winning 8 gold medals instead of just 7, and after watching Jordyn Wieber lose a spot in the All-Around competition for virtually no other reason than because her heel slipped out of bounds on the floor exercise, I had to admit that there’s something deeply terrifying about the Olympics. Where else can a minor slip of a foot, a misplaced hand, a single millisecond determine the difference between lifelong glory and pulverized dreams? I admire those who are willing to put themselves under such a crazy amount of pressure, but I’ll take my low stakes and wide margin for error, thank you very much.

The Art of the Short, Sweet Friendship

I wrote this post late at night some while ago and felt ambivalent about posting it. But you know what? It just felt right today. So here we go!

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Before I begin, I just want to say that I will try not to make this post too maudlin. It is three in the morning, and this is a subject that’s dear to my heart, so I’m not sure if I’ll succeed. But let’s find out, shall we?

Throughout my life, I’ve done a lot of moving around. Not as much as some people, to be sure, but at the same time, more than others. Some moves were big, most of them were small, but through each of them, I have learned the art of the short, sweet friendship.

Right off the top of my head, I can name scores of instances in which I’ve stayed in a place for a fairly short time and have come out of the experience having made great friends who I was not allowed to keep afterward. There’s something about being thrown in with a bunch of people your own age for a short period of time that makes it easy to form quick, intense relationships. I like to think of it as “friendship concentrate;” all the things that make people become friends are accelerated and exaggerated. When you know you only have a few weeks or a handful of months to spend with someone, things like mutual self-disclosure, the search for common interests, and making an effort to hang out with each other a lot become much easier. A sense of urgency drives you, whether you’re consciously aware of it or not, and suddenly you feel like you’ve known someone for years when you’ve only known them for a week.

This has happened to me time and time again in the past. I’d go to a week-long session of summer camp and come home having made friends (and sometimes enemies…but I digress) in the space of a few days. I went to a two-week apologetics conference in Colorado and made such wonderful friends there that the flight back home is still one of the most depressing days I can remember, because I knew I’d probably never see any of those beautiful people again, at least in this life. I went to college and was placed in an orientation club—after one week, I distinctly remember feeling as though I already knew those people so well. When I studied in Spain for four months, there were several people with whom I bonded strongly that first week over lost luggage and language issues and the terror of so many unknowns, and most of them became great friends indeed over the ensuing months. And yet, I can count the ones that I still talk to on one hand. And this July at the Denver Publishing Institute, I made fast friends with people from all over the country, and with a few, I shared things in a couple of weeks that it took me years to tell other people. But even though I still consider myself to be friends with most of them, it feels like some of those connections are already beginning to fade.

I have a very strange mixture of opinions about this bittersweet state of affairs. On the one hand, I still remember all these short, sweet friendships with great fondness, and I wish they were still a part of my life. If only all the people I love could be in one place at once. Wouldn’t that be nice? I’d like a zillion dollars, while I’m at it.

But on the other hand, this has happened often enough in my life that I’ve learned to take it as a matter of course, for the most part. I can let those friendships pass and still manage to remember and benefit from whatever it was that was so important about each. They were beneficial and wonderful for the time in which they occurred, but they’re over now, and that’s all right. It’s a fact of life that there are people who will only be with us for a short time, but who are no less influential on us than those who stick around. Like Legolas says somewhere in The Fellowship of the Ring (yes, I realize my nerdy is showing; pipe down), “…such is the way of it: to find and lose, as it seems to those whose boats are on the running stream.” Things come, and they pass before we know it, and that’s just the way it is.

But whether we intend to or not, we exchange pieces of ourselves with those whose lives we pass quickly into and back out of. We might not remember all of the pieces as time goes on, but each one plays a part in making us who we are and determining how we grow. Each bit represents a little more inspiration, a little more love, a little more widening of the window through which we view the world.

Sometimes I think I hold to these short, sweet friendships more tightly than most people do, that I remember them long after the other person has forgotten. Maybe it’s because I have the ability to see the value of those relationships, however fleeting. Maybe it’s because I’ve had friends who’ve left me due to spite instead of leaving me due to benign circumstance, and I’m therefore less likely to take these things for granted. Maybe it’s because I’m bad at keeping in touch and the other person thinks I’ve forgotten them, too. And maybe I’m just clingy and awkward. I don’t know. But I like to think that I can see short friendships for what they are—necessary, inevitable, and all the more beautiful for their brevity.

Okay, so I clearly crossed the line into maudlin territory. But as much as I’m averse to cheesiness, I think I’m pretty much okay with it for now. To all those who shared short, sweet friendships with me, thanks for what you gave me. I can only hope that I returned the favor as well as you deserved.

Mirror, Mirror: In Review

Guess what, friends? It’s Overly Enthusiastic Review time! I don’t often do movie reviews. In fact, I tend to avoid them, because, as I’ve said before, I am extremely easy to please when it comes to movies. Unless the acting is horrific or it’s a disgusting premise or if there’s more gratuitous violence (or hanky-panky, for that matter) than I can reasonably handle, I’ll probably like it. Thus, I’m somewhat unreliable as a movie reviewer. Still, sometimes I see a movie that hits just the right kind of chord with me, and I have to say something about it.

Today, that movie is Mirror, Mirror, the latest Tarsem Singh film. When I saw the trailers for this one, I was intrigued (Fairy tales! Pretty colors! Armie Hammer!), though I’ll admit I did have a reservation or two about it. Basically, it seemed like one of those films that could either be really good or really bad, depending on how the inherent cheesiness was dealt with.

To my delight, the former was true in this case, at least in my opinion. Simply put, I was very pleasantly surprised by this movie. There was cheesiness, yes, but what could have been painfully stupid turned out to be hilarious and adorable, because the movie flat-out refused to take itself seriously. When you use the corniness to make fun of all the farfetched things going on in the story, you are doing it right, my friend.

Beyond that, the characters were fantastic, and the acting was quite good in general. Lily Collins’ performance as Snow White did feel a bit forced at times, but she was so unbearably cute that it didn’t really matter. Armie Hammer was almost too pretty to look at (as per usual, really), and he was absolutely hilarious! If the scene where he gets put under a “puppy love” spell by the evil queen, which causes him to make doggy sounds and ham it up like crazy, doesn’t make you laugh, then I’m not really sure what will. Granted, I am a perpetual twelve-year-old at heart, so I’m kind of into that stuff. But still, that scene had just the right amount of slapstick comedy/ridiculousness to make it a heck of a lot of fun. Other roles of note include Julia Roberts as the evil queen (and though her “English accent” suffered from some pretty major continuity problems, she did a good job in a role that is quite a bit different from her usual fare) and the actors who played the seven dwarves. Predictably, the dwarves functioned primarily as comic relief, but they did a darn good job of it. They each had their own little quirks that set them apart, which was a big help in differentiating seven men with similar builds and manner of dress.

Great performances notwithstanding, it woud be pointless to review this movie without saying a few words about the sets and camera work. No matter how you feel about Tarsem Singh, you can’t deny that the man knows how to make a GORGEOUS picture. In keeping with some other films of his that I’ve seen, the cinematography was stunning (especially in blue-ray!), and the wealth of bright, saturated colors kept the movie very visually interesting. The costume designer clearly had WAY too much fun doing this movie, but the effect was actually pretty cool. The bright colors were most evident in the costumes, and they were all-around unique and appealing to look at.

In short, this movie exceeded my expectations by quite a wide margin. If you’re at all into fairy tales, great costuming, and healthy doses of silliness, this one is a must-see. If you’ve seen this movie, I’d love to hear what you thought about it! Did you like it as much as I did, or was your reaction a bit more tempered? Whatever your conclusions on it might be, don’t forget to fire a comment my way!

An Open Letter to Boys Who Shout at Girls from Cars

For all my dear gal-friends who have also experienced this. Come along with me as we share in the confusion of this baffling phenomenon.

Dear Young Ruffian,

You think you’re awfully clever, don’t you? Yes, you’ve really got it figured out. There you are, rolling along in your car– pulling mainers, cruising chicks…whatever your kind call it these days. You’re feeling pretty fly in your sweet ride/junker/SUV that you borrowed from your mother. And then, all of a sudden, you see her–a girl! A pretty fine-looking girl, too. Well, she’s probably fine-looking…it’s kind of hard to tell from this angle, but hey, she’s a girl, right? One is pretty much like another, you figure. So you slow up, roll that window right down like a boss, and shout out some cleverly worded gem at her, like “Hey baby!” or “Nice butt!” Or maybe just a well-executed wolf whistle will suffice; no need to over-exert yourself. Besides, you were so very proud of yourself when you learned how to whistle like that. What better way to show it off than by propositioning some random, unassuming woman on the street?

Oh, yes, you can see it now. When this girl hears you, she won’t be able to help looking at you and your awesome wheels, won’t be able to hide how terribly impressed she is. And that wide-eyed, befuddled look on her face just means that she is so shocked by your awesomeness that she just can’t hide it. Yes, it’s all quite clear to you, isn’t it?

But, my young ruffian, what you don’t see is that there is much about this scene–nay, life itself–that you don’t comprehend. Let’s break it down for a moment, really get inside what’s happening. Let’s imagine for a moment that the girl hears you, turns to you with a coy smile, and ever-so-smoothly flags you down. What will you do with her? Just for now, we’ll ignore the fact that, in most cases, you would have to screech to a mid-lane halt in order for her to board your fine vehicle, which would be more likely to end in your sudden death as the result of a ten-car pile-up, rather than leading to a potential relationship. When she climbs aboard, what happens then? To the outside observer, the most obvious answer is that you are planning to whisk her away to an undisclosed location, where you will promptly try out your skills as an axe-murderer. Not what you had in mind? Really? What, then? Will you politely introduce her to the upstanding friends who are no doubt along for the ride with you? Will you offer to escort her to her destination of choice? Will you exchange numbers and plans for a future rendezvous? No? I didn’t think so.

There must be some benefit to your behavior, for it exists in every state, every town, every spot where there is  a road, a female, and a carful of ne’er-do-wells. Though I can’t imagine what it could be. Nevertheless, the thought that I want to impress on your evidently underdeveloped brains is this: show me a world in which these tactics are actually successful, and I’ll show you a world that needs to seriously question its priorities. So may you learn something worthwhile from your antics, may you find a better method someday, and may you get many a fist-bump from your brahs. But may you never, ever catcall me from your vehicle. Ever. No, seriously.

With much confusion,

Annoyed