Recently I’ve felt a lot like Barney Stinson from How I Met Your Mother, and not in a good way. Yes, I also overuse the word “awesome,” and I am capable of seducing every girl in New York City (not to brag or anything), but that is not what I’m talking about.
In an episode in Season 5, Barney decides to hold up a sign at the Super Bowl telling the ladies to call him, showing his number below. Now the phone gets texts and calls from thousands of smoking hot chicks, along with a shockingly low amount of prank calls from teenagers and forty-year old men. At first he believes the magic phone is something he loves (a duck), but the problem is, it’s impossible for Barney to nail one girl, knowing there’s a hotter chick out there waiting for him. (“There’s always a hotter chick,” says a philosophical Lily.) Then he realizes the phone is not the duck he thought he loved; instead it is a rabbit, which is bad for some reason.
(Speaking of which, why is a rabbit considered bad and a duck considered good? I’m with Marshall on this one; ducks are bad, rabbits are good. Ducks are annoying. They’re always quack quack quacking and begging for food and whatnot. Rabbits, (I prefer to call them bunnies), are adorable. Besides, there’s no Easter Duck, is there? There’s no Energizer Duck, or Bugs Duck, either. No one ever says, “Silly Duck! Trix are for kids!” We may continue this fierce debate on twitter or the comments below.)
Now that I’ve gotten rid of all my viewers who don’t watch HIMYM, I will over-explain how the top half of this post connects with me having too many books.
This year I now go to a school with a library that’s huge compared to my other school’s library. It’s got every single book on my list of books to read in 2013, along with who knows how many others. Like Barney, I first considered this giant library to be a duck. But after a while I couldn’t focus on just one book at a time. I can’t finish reading a book, knowing that there is a possibly better book out there waiting for me. I always pick up a book I’ve always wanted to read, but halfway through I abandon it, not because it was bad, but because the temptation to read another book was just too strong. Now I’ve come to the horrible realization that this library isn’t a duck at all, but a rabbit (though I think the rabbit>duck philosophy should be reversed).
Along with the lack of fulfillment in not being able to complete a book, there comes the guilt, too. I’ve broken so many books’ hearts. (Not so fun fact: Book suicide rates have increased by 2% since this September.) So I apologize to the following books whom I dumped.
- The Two Towers–by J.R.R. Tolkien. It was a great book, but I couldn’t resist picking up Stephen King’s Pet Sematary.
- Pet Sematary–by Stephen King. Also a great book, but I abandoned it for Eragon.
- Eragon—by Christopher Paolini. Actually, I’m not sorry for this book; it was awful. Why did I like this book when I first read it?
- Salem’s Lot––by Stephen King. Also an amazing book from what I’ve read. But The Underland Chronicles (a series I haven’t abandoned, somehow) was calling my name and just wouldn’t stop.
I will make it up to those books. I will complete each of them, as they deserve. Except Eragon.