please don't arrange my marriage. 
 and if you must, please don't marry me off to some sickly bitchy thing who will soon die and trap me in my inlaws' house where i will be a burden and where they will treat me like a servant but i won't have anywhere else to go until they in turn ditch me in some creepy city where discarded widows try to make a go of it. 
 just don't do it. 
 it is the worst. 
 this book is pretty good, but my warrior-liberated-woman parts gag when confronted with these types of situations. i am very fortunate to have options and all, but it just makes me angry to see how few opportunities other people have. 
 i am pretty sure this makes me an obnoxious, racist american, but it makes me want to distribute cassette tapes of joan jett and pat benatar to these little girls and dance with them in the streets in perfectly choreographed defiance... 
 i assume this is also how to achieve world peace.