For the past few weeks, I've been carrying around a hard copy of Gone Girl by Gillian Flynn. When someone says, "Oh, you're reading Gone Girl?", I usually respond with an explanation: my mom was reading it for her book club, I found out my favorite director is working on the movie, so I decided to pick it up. You can judge a person on what they read in their spare time, and I don't want everyone to think that all I read is contemporary fiction novels. But how do we choose what we read? I believe that popularity, exposure, and recommendation are three of the most influential aspects.

It seems whenever a saga's first movie is in production, its series of novels becomes increasingly popular. If you've ever read Twilight by Stephenie Meyer, The Hunger Games by Suzanne Collins, or 50 Shades of Grey by E. L. James, I guarantee you didn't discover it yourself. You probably heard about the movie(s), and decided to dive into the books. When everyone else around you is indulging themselves in the newest fad, you feel the need to indulge too to stay on top of what's popular.

Your interests may be centered around what you enjoyed growing up, just as you may have similar morals in adulthood that you were raised with through your childhood. If you grew up watching a lot of Scooby-Doo, maybe you read some mystery novels. If you're Irish, maybe you like reading about immigration in the 1800s. Et cetera, et cetera.

When you have a lot in common with a person, you take their opinion very seriously. If your best friend recommends you a novel, you'll probably look into it, even if it doesn't interest you. In Parks and Recreation, a comedy television series, Leslie Knope, a perky, mid-level bureaucrat in the parks department of fictional Pawnee, Indiana, writes a book on everything there is to know about her town. In order for her book to be a best-seller in Pawnee, Joan Callamezzo, Pawnee's "literary-tastemaker"  and host of Pawnee Today, has to recommend it by putting it in her book club. This is parallel to how today's media influences our choices of reading material in the real world. If a novel is recommended on a talk show, or is deemed a New York Times Bestseller, most people are more inclined to read it.

Next time you pick up your favorite novel to read for the fourth time, consider why you like it so much. You might learn something about yourself.

I work at one of the busiest Wawa markets that exist, frequently as a cashier, repeating the same polite greetings with the same half-smile hundreds of times in a single shift. By the seventh hour, I feel like a robot: "Hi, how are you today?" And, "Would you like a bag?" Don't forget, "Have a great day!" For the past few weeks, Wawa has been collecting donations for the JDRF, and it's my job to ask if customers would like to donate. I get a huge variety of responses, but the most popular decline is, "No, but thank you so much!" I've been turning this response over in my head for awhile now. I want to say to the customer, "Why are you thanking me? I'm asking to take hard-earned money right out of your pocket." It seems like having manners is more important than making sense sometimes.

From a young age, we're taught by our elders how to act politely in a social environment. Simple manners such as saying "please" and "thank you" are reflexes by the time we enter early education. We might not have known why we said thank you when given something, but we knew the consequences if we didn't. Were we ever taught what "thank you" really means? We hear and speak those words so often, they aren't even words anymore, such as when you say "vegetable" thirty times out loud and it becomes just a sound without a meaning.

After doing some research, I learned that the phrase "thank you" was originally "I thank you." According to dictionary.com, the word "thank" means to express gratitude or appreciation. I suppose we understand the phrase at some point, but using "thank you" is still a social standard and a reflex. Why are you considered rude if you give a smile instead of uttering words that are just sounds without meaning?

The use of social standards such as saying "please" and "thank you" show that you're a normal, polite American who functions in society. What do you think about the person in line at Wawa ahead of you who doesn't offer a greeting, simply mutters the brand of cigarettes he wants, and leaves without another word? He's shady. If you don't use your manners, the public questions what type of person you are. Social standards make our world run smoothly. Although they are seemingly outdated and weird responses, they're an essential part of our culture.