Oh, Irene. You big, dirty tease. It looked like you were coming straight at us: In mid-August, the forecast cone painted an elegant swath across the Atlantic, tracing the contours of Cuba and landing smack-dab up the spine of Florida. We rushed to the stores and bought all that great South Florida stuff like batteries and cans of beans and bottled water. And then, just as we battened down and watched your rain bands sweep our eastern skies, you left us. The surprises weren't over: You went on to hit our families and friends up north, to give those who live in sensible climates a little taste of the wrath we've come to expect. With all that coastal damage, you were one of the costliest hurricanes on record. But we got the best of both worlds: all of the pre-hurricane panic (the media thank you) and none of the damage. See you in 2017, darling.