Annoying Female Main Characters

Either the male/female *relationship* has undergone drastic changes since I

last produced estrogen [insert ten billion years ago], or I've played the game wrong

my entire frigging life ...

So last night I am enjoying a wonderful, albeit typical, YA paranormal romance novel. However, by the book's midway point I was ready to smack the female protagonist and pour a bucket of stupid sauce over head of Mr. Patience-Personified.

What the hell is up with these prickly, whiny, chip-on-her-shoulder, don't-touch-me-I'll-jerk-away-super-fast-like-I've-been-shot, monosyllabic, I've-got-issues-and-you're-gonna-pay heroines???

Seriously.

Can we say *over the top*, folks? Sure, I get it. Strong female lead. Not a push-over.

But either the guys have spent the first 17 years of their life on a desert island bereft of feminine companionship, or they are poster child's for Stockholm syndrome. Because there is NO way in real life any guy is going to put up with the level of abuse and general unpleasantness that some of these gals are dishing out.

Oh, but they do. Enthusiastically coming back for more of the same. Of course, our psycho heroines occasionally shed a tear or two, proving to the reader AND the male romantic lead, that these witches are really human and capable of a rare weak moment ... which is okay between battling dragons and wrestling werewolves.

For some bizarre social-collective reasoning, females must be emotionally uber strong, resilient to the point of absurdity, never cry or get cramps, and above all disdain conversation that includes complete sentences.

Now, I've noticed the above holds particularly true in {to be fair - only SOME} dystopian stories. The logic (?) being that weak (insert *normal*) females can't cut the mustard once the entire planet goes to shit.

Okee dokee. I've known loads of stereotypical *needy/weak* women throughout my many years of bliss (?) on planet Earth. They are often just as annoying, and smack-worthy as their fictional polar opposites - the amazing amazons.

But I've also known a few males in my time (heh heh), and not a one of them were prone to masochism. In fact, most males don't seem to care for the kind of girls vulgarly termed 'ball busters'. Just sayin'.

Anyway, I understand pendulum shifts in society. And no, most girls really don't want to go back to the mores & restrictions of Victorian society (the clothes, hells yeah!!). But wow! Talk about from one extreme to another ...

In fact, if I wanted to take a long, hard, objective look at this *amazing-amazon-chick* phenomena, I'd say it kind of bothers me that it is becoming so socially acceptable, so highly encouraged & marketed at today's girls that they may equate *aggression/anger* with *desirable*.

And why all this anger/aggression in the first place? Because there's no getting away from the fact that far too many female protagonists display all the symptoms of passive aggression. Think about this.

It's like a psychological knee-jerk reaction that's come a 100 years too late. Hello. The women's suffrage movement called and wants its angst back.

I could understand all the above if the fiction were coming out of a country that suppresses its female citizens. You betcha, baby!!! But ... that is not the case. So, what are females so prickly and angry about? What are they trying to prove?

Honestly, if you wanted to go all tin-foil hat conspiracy minded, it's like females are being oppressed, only in a different way. They're being taught to despise some of the very biological characteristics that differentiate women from men.

Or maybe we just like bitches. At least in fiction, it seems.

Because it only seems *acceptable* for the heroine to shed a tear or comb her hair or nurture a wounded companion or discuss finer feelings AFTER she's single handedly taken down an entire tribe of rabid garden gnomes or something.

And our *Amazing-Amazon-Chick* will only deign to allow the poor, hapless male to hold her hand AFTER he has been put through so much crap, and jumped through flaming hurdles, and been thoroughly insulted & misjudged time and time and time again by our prickly super-girl.

THEN it's okay for her to *fall like really super in luv* with him, and allow him a kiss or two. Because all this time he's been patiently waiting for her to come around, despite the fact that at least one other beautiful girl has been coveting his attentions for the entire novel. But he doesn't give girl #2 the time of day. They're just friends.

Right.

Personally, I'd like to give some of these fictional *Amazing-Amazon-Chicks* their very own copy of 'How to Win Friends and Influence People', and give the guy the set of nads he is so obviously lacking.

At the very least, I'd like someday to read where the male protagonist gives our prickly heroine the finger/bird and drives off into the sunset to sleep with girl number #2.

M.A.D. Advice:

Being a bitch isn't cool even if you're NOT a cheerleader.

Complete sentences never hurt anyone.

Combing your stupid hair once in a while doesn't make you weak.

Being *nice* doesn't make you weak, either.

*Edit to add:

I don't mean to imply that the majority of female protagonists are ultra prickly, but there are instances where they come across as real rips about every single little thing, as though being *difficult* is a virtue lol

Also, like always, most of my rants are tongue-in-cheek ;D

Is it HOT enough for ya?!

This.Has.Been.The.Summer.From.Hell.

Although, I did have my beautiful and amazingly brilliant sis and her hubby come visit us from out in Utah - where the fires raged less than 5 miles from her home in the mountains.

But .... during her visit we *endured* a week of triple digit temps. And since that time (three weeks) there's been scant relief, and certainly little-to-no-rain in my neck o' the woods.

Did I mention I live in the corn-belt of the Great Midwest?

Yeah. And did I mention how blasted hot & dry it's been and that all the crops are practically in the toilet?! Seriously.

Today it is supposed to hit 104. And sure, there's a chance of thunderstorms ... but if our recent weather pattern is any indication, any storm that forms will either:

a] go around us

b] rain about 1.5 drops per sq. mile

Anyway. Since my car sits outside with no garage to protect it, turning on the ignition is akin to touching a crucible heated to about ten billion degrees kelvin ... whatever THAT is.

Too damn hot is what it is.

Honestly, we've had the weirdest weather this past year. Winter was basically MIA, and now it feels like we are living inside a furnace. The garden, my beautiful first-time organic masterpiece that took me forever to get up n' running, is now languishing a slow and pitiful demise.

Which really stinks for many reasons, ONE of which is that food prices are going to spike, I fear, and probably gas [corn-ethanol] as well.

Okee - I'm old enough to remember when you could buy 3 loaves of good bread for just a buck. Now it's 3 bucks for a loaf of good bread. I really shudder to contemplate just how expensive the next round of price increases will prove themselves to be, and I feel the utmost compassion for young marrieds w/children trying to feed a growing family without either going hungry OR going bankrupt.

But you know, it's hard enough being a human dealing with this prolonged heat/drought - however, the suffering of the animals comes close to breaking my heart. We've been trying to keep fresh, cool water accessible for the birds, squirrels, strays, etc. Mainly out of compassion, but also because I think a measure of responsibility comes with the *honor* of being the dominant species on this planet. Call me a crazy, hippy tree-hugger, I don't care lol.

Anyway, it's been miserable here, and elsewhere I'm sure, and I'm too enervated to do much of anything. But I haven't said/blogged much lately, so here I be. Sweaty, but there ya have it.

So, what's the summer been like where YOU live? And are you looking forward to fall/winter?? ;D

101 Ways to Blow Your Nose

Not to be an alarmist, but I am almost positive I've been struck down with some kind of rare, ultra-secret black plague-styled pathogen that turns ordinary bodily functions - such as breathing and blinking - into an Olympian exercise in feverish futility.

Did any of that make sense? Not that I care. I really don't.

I'm too miserable to care. (If this seems like some weak, pathetic attempt to garner lots of sympathy and maybe some of that fancy hot chocolate that comes in those little packages with pictures of Sweden/Denmark/Netherlands, you are absolutely correct. Normally my attempts are more forcefully energetic. But I'm feeling puny and this is the best I can do.)

I even made this post BOLD/LARGE so I can easily read the monitor, which is hard to do because I think my dead relatives are beckoning me to come into the Light and I can't pay attention writing/beckoning at the same time.

I'm not sure if I'm also being sucked into the "Tunnel" or if it's just the head full of mucus/snot/gross crap that's making me dizzy.

Either way.

Head cold, my ass. There are razor blades of blinding light searing the delicate tissue of my retinas. Also I am fairly convinced the Demon (well, lesser minion anyways) of Underwater Hearing and Sound Sensitivity has taken possession of my ear canals. I think I can literally hear the cat shedding.

And instead of my typical breakfast of delicious, delightful Diet Mtn. Dew merrily coursing its caffienated way through my eagerly receptive neurons, it has instead decided to curl up into a slothful ball of queasy/heavy/future-barf smack dab in the center of my tender tummy. Kinda like the feeling of standing on a ship's deck. The rolling, nauseous caution that makes you want to lay down. Quick.

I don't even know if I'm being funny here. Can anybody tell? I can't. Plus the keyboard feels like it's miles and miles away instead of passively resting under my fingertips - which, btw, seem to be operating independently of my brain.

Well, of course they are. The fingertips are all happy and perky because THEY don't have sinus cavities. Screw them. See if THEY get a manicure anytime soon. (This is a big fat lie. Even if I were the poster child for perfect health, I'm not up for a manicure today. Or tomorrow. I'm still struggling to get 10 zillion wreaths made up by Friday night and, between straight pins and the HOT glue gun, my fingertips look like they've contracted a rather hideous form of leprosy. My bad.)

Maybe it's just the fever talking. Not that I can prove I have a fever. The only thermometer we have on hand is one of those old glass, rectal things. And there's no way that thing's going in my mouth. It's probably still crawling with baby-butt germs from decades ago. Probably, it should go in the trash but since it's a mercury filled one and you can't legally just THROW the things away and since it's easier to keep it in the back of the medicine chest to give the dust bunnies something to play with I still have it. Call me an animal lover.

Whatever. I'm done here.

BTW. As a sort of post-Halloween horrorfest, I watched the first two movies in the Wrong Turn trilogy last night. Great. Just great. Now I'm scared to death to ever go camping/hiking/walking/driving within a billion miles any wooded foresty-type area.

Anybody watched those movies? If so, exactly how far into the movie were you before you wanted to slap a big roll of duct tape over that guy's mouth who kept yelling (for all the inbred crazies to hear) "HELLLLLOOOOO ... ANYBODY HERE?"

If there's anything we've all learned from our love of scary movies and books, is this ... keep your stupid mouth shut.

So we're watching part 3 tonight. While I wrap wreaths. And blow my nose while using a hot glue gun. There's so many ways this could go wrong ...

PS. I'm too apathetic to use spellcheck today. :P