My dilemma

One runs into problems when one reaches a certain level of awesomeness.

I know because this has happened to me. I've hit the glass ceiling of awesome, if you will.

A few weeks ago we downloaded Tetris on iTunes and installed it on our iPod. I'm not bragging here, I'm just being honest--I rule at Tetris.

Really.

Last year when we flew Emirates Airlines to Istanbul, I spent the better part of our Dubai-Istanbul and later, our Dubai-Kuala Lumpur flights playing Tetris on the airline's fabulous in-flight entertainment system. I played so much that I almost had claw-hand, like Chandler got on Friends after playing Ms. Pac Man for an entire day. I also drew attention from surrounding passengers, who watched in admiration as I put blocks together with lightning-fast speed.

Let me explain something-I am allowed to brag about my ninja-like Tetris skills for one reason and one reason only: I suck at every other video game on the planet.

I'm not just bad, I'm record-shatteringly, heart-breakingly awful at other video games. With my assistance, Mario has never rescued the princess. My Mario Kart driving skills only land me in the ditch, or facing backwards against some stupid tree. When Kale and Katie and Travis make kind-hearted efforts to include me in their marathon PS2 and X Box sessions ("Guys, I'm happy just watching, really," I always insist truthfully), my character always ends up running around in circles, haphazardly swinging weapons here and there like some spastic kid who should be wearing a helmet while tethered to a tree, rather than fighting bad guys with the other warriors.

So my mad Tetris skills are all I have, video game-wise. Only now I fear I've topped out.

I've become addicted to the game 40 Lines, wherein you have to make 40 lines of Tetris blocks disappear as quickly as possible. Lines of Tetris have become, for me, like lines of coke to a junkie. I can't stop. Worse, I don't want to stop.

The other day I beat my record time of two minutes, 50 seconds with a new time of 2:37. Where do I go from here? Try as I might, I can't beat that.

I have nowhere to go but down. I have, figuratively, drowned in my own ocean of awesome.