Mario Kart and Life

So, to celebrate the end of sophomore year, the halfway point in college, I played a little Mario Kart with my floor. Let's discuss the wonder that is Mario Kart and the individual transformation that takes place when the controller gets in my hands...

For starters, the swear words practically fly out of my mouth like a fighter jet on crack. My volume intensifies by probably 100 decibels, and I get so enthusiastic that my leg shakes to get out all my excess energy. I become extremely intense, and move my controller along with my player as if by turning it to the right, my character will make a sharper right turn.

Sounds cool, right? WRONG!! It would be cool, if I had actual skills at Mario Kart, but I am absolutely horrendous. Seriously...worse than Princess Beatrice's fashion sense. As offensive as it sounds, I embody all women drivers stereotypes when I play Mario Kart. On the Rainbow Road course, I legitimately fell off the road 30 times, and I didn't even make it all three laps because I got last place and the game stopped prematurely. It was a magical mess.

The times have really changed because I remember I was awesome at Mario Kart for N64. Put the same game in cube form, and nothing is the same. It's like a metaphor for life: when you try something new, you regress before you progress. It's a lesson in structural unemployment. When you know old technology, sometimes the economy demands you learn something new.

So the game was fun, but after all last place finishes and a sore thumb, I realize that it's not all about winning. It's about yelling and swearing when you fall off the road and into the burning lava.