No, you will not see the video

... and Jasmine will never speak of what she saw.

Today, I broke out two of my birthday presents:  my new Playstation and my Dance, Dance, Revolution game.

Lord Have Mercy.

Damn thing starts you on "Beginner" mode, and you have to pass three levels of that before you can go into "Standard."

I failed the first level.  At least twice.

And the game isn't entirely sympathetic.  I mean, sure, there's a voice that says, not too ironically, "Aw, you didn't make it."  But that's after the big red "FAILED" goes across the screen.

But with some perseverence, I got through the first level of Beginner, and then completed the next two levels in quick succession.  Yay me.

I then thought I'd try "Standard" and nearly killed myself.

I'm not sure what button I (apparently) accidentally stepped on, but somehow I had, unknowingly, changed the setting from "One-Player" mode to "Two-Player Challenge mode."  So after I'd just barely succeeded at "Beginner" mode where you have to step on one of four buttons (up, down, left, right) at any given moment, I was now looking at a screen that appeared to be asking me to step on two of eight of such buttons simultaneously.  And I'm thinking, "How the hell am I going to do this?"  (Left foot for the first four buttons?  Right foot for the other four?)  OK, sure, I gave it a game try, but lasted all of about 15 seconds before I FAILED that one.  And I'm thinking, "If this is Standard, what the hell does Difficult look like?  High-Speed Twister?"  Took me another few minutes to confirm with the booklet that this is not, in fact, what single player play looks like.  Reset the game, and tried single-player standard, which is much saner.

I failed it anyway.

And failed again.

And failed a third time.

And failed a fourth.

At which point, I'm breathing heavy, my hair is defying gravity in all sorts of directions, there's sweat pouring down my face, and my cat is hiding behind the nearest piece of furniture, cautiously looking at this strange being and wondering what I've done with the nice person who collapses on the couch and pets her.

Start warming the couch, Jas, I'm comin'!