I'd started with the Lost Levels but I never make it past the second level. I don't mean world. I mean second level. I'm that bad at it.

I've been pretty sure I have arthritis of some sort since the day I was born, but whatever, it's not gotten in the way of anything. I'm not one to whine about joint pain when it's about to rain.

Until last night. And it wasn't raining.

While Dave was off shooting the most expensive wedding of his life, of the two most photogenic bride and groom at the most pristine location in the area -- not that I'm jealous or anything -- I was at home. The night before, when Dave was at work and my dusting was finished, I read for eight hours. Eight. Ocho. I read on the couch, not moving for eight hours. That's an entire book. Looo-ser.

Anyhow. So Saturday I thought I needed some more excitement in my life. I pulled out the Nintendo. Isn't that what all early-'90s children do? Yes. It is. And Mario Kart was calling my name. I've never, ever in the history of "Mario Kart and Erin" been able to keep my Princess or Mario on the path, so this is big news: I won the first round. Won. No. 1. Me.

I cheered. Big gave me a high five. Music played. It was triumphant. Then I pushed "start" and was in first place again when the pain started in. It's like an ache in my thumb, right, and it quickly escalated into me driving Mario off the ledge of the ghost house level. Dang. I was soon after pulling the cord outta the machine because my thumb hurt so bad.

That, and I don't like losing after being No. 1. Mom always said "if you can't play without getting angry then I'm going to unplug it!" And she did. At level nine of "Super Mario Brothers." April 1993. The home at 739 Vincent Drive in Kentucky. A day that lives in relative infamy in my short video game history.

And here's the part where I tell you I took some Aleve and then tried out for their commercials.

Only instead of taking Aleve and trying out for their commercials, I took some generic ibuprofin and went to bed angry. No Mario Kart!? What is this life rolling downhill toward? A life without Nintendo? What's next, you're going to tell me I can't listen to my New Kids on the Block cassette anymore? God. I'm going to my room. You guys are so uncool.