Earlier today, I got 477 lines while playing a game of tetris. Level 48. 699,512 points. I was a little surprised, so I played again, just to make sure it wasn't a fluke. 515 lines. Level 52. 735, 788 points. Yeah. Obviously I've been playing online tetris a little too often lately. It's what I do now when I want to procrastinate for a few minutes instead of...well, baking. But even I never thought it would have gone this far. I've always been a fairly solid tetris player (it was the one video game I had on my gameboy when I was in 4th grade) but not like this. Now, I'm pretty convinced that--at least for the next little while, until I get bored and move on to another procrastinatory activity- I am probably one of the very best tetris players IN THE ENTIRE WORLD. That's right. I said it. If that sounds like an out-and-out challenge to you, well then that's because it is. (Yeah, Easy E. Don't pretend you don't know I'm talking to you. I will make you EAT IT.) Anyway. All this got me thinking...

1. A surprising number of my most lucid memories are connected with tetris. Like that time I was maybe in 5th grade, and I was playing on the big screen TV (back when big screens were as deep as they were wide) in the family room until my parents' friends were expected to come over for a dinner party. I was sitting there, doing my thing-- when suddenly I heard a noise behind me. I looked over my shoulder, and my dad's 3 best friends from college (all engineers) were standing there, jaw-droppedly watching a painfully shy little 10-year-old putting to shame the high scores they had set on the game last time they were over. I think I remember it so well, for starters, because of the complete and utter arresting fear that gripped me once I realized that I was being watched...and because my dad actually patted me on the shoulder excitedly afterwards, saying, "you're a hit!" I had straight A's. I had been chosen for both the Math League and Science Olympiad teams. I played 2 or 3 instruments, and had won a few writing contests-- but apparently the capstone of parental pride was furnished by my mad tetris skills...

And there was that night in college sophomore year that we spent in the boys' suite playing 4-player tetris. We must've played for hours, because it was late enough that Nick & Erik urged me to stay in the triple instead of making the trek home late at night. I think Ryan was in Modesto, so I took his bunk. A whole night of spewing trash talk and banter, and just sitting around and not worrying about homework for a while. If it wasn't your turn to play, you'd have actual conversation with whoever else wasn't playing (I distinctly remember Candice and I marvelling at the intricacy and execution of some of Mr. Bohman's expostulatory contributions. Often metaphoric, and unfailingly alarming.) Then we all slept for a little and went to brunch at the Foothill DC the next morning. It was great.


2. Of greater import, though: I'm a little pissed. Just a little. Yeah, it's nice to be awesome at something. To feel like you have a secret talent. But, if God's up there, meting out human ability...couldn't he have made mine just a little more...marketable? Or useful and helpful in any sort of way? Really. You're never going to see anything like this:

Woman on street, pointing to burning building: My God, there's several children trapped inside. Someone needs to play tetris to get them out!

or

Secretary of State: Mr. President, we're in a crisis situation. Several nations have launched nuclear weapons and we need someone to play tetris to prevent world destruction.

or even

Job Interviewer: So, Ms. Kat, you've listed "Really freaking good at tetris" under "Other skills" on your resume. Tell us a little more about that.


:::sigh:::


I guess everyone needs some sort of lietmotif to draw their narrative threads together. The Brothers K had canons, Anna Karenina had trains, horses, and apples, Nabokov had eyeglasses, and I have tetris...