Ink And Reason

Let’s be honest, everyone’s played the “what if I could switch lives with someone famous” game. You know, be a millionaire, walk red carpets, the whole shebang. But lately, I’ve realized I’d never trade places with anyone for even a single day. Why? Well, my life is a unique blend of communist hardship, teenage shenanigans, and a whole lotta living that, frankly, no Hollywood scriptwriter could dream up.

Let’s start with my Cold War-era childhood. Sure, no hot water and waiting in line for bread isn’t exactly a walk in the park. But it gave me a gritty appreciation for the little things and taught me how to find toilet paper during an unexpected shortage. Plus, electricity cuts just meant extra romantic homework sessions – candlelight is surprisingly flattering to everyone, even in 6th grade.

And let’s not forget the games! No PlayStations or Xboxes here. Our street was our playground, and we invented Olympic-level competitions involving chasing kites, collecting and trading stamps, playing chess, backgammon, soccer, riding our bikes in competitions around town or in the woods, homemade water balloon contraptions, and plastic tube projectile warfare. We emerged scraped, bruised, victorious…and always ready for more!

Then came the chaotic ’90s: post-communism with a side of teenage angst. Now THIS was wild. No Google? No problem! We had actual conversations (imagine!).  We had to party while listening to music bought from dubious vendors while one of us was in charge of rewinding the cassettes using a pencil (hard to imagine if you were not there). When internet eventually arrived in early 2000s it moved at the speed of dial-up, forcing us to appreciate the art of flirting on Yahoo Messenger and Mirc while waiting 45 minutes just to see if a pixelated image of our crush appeared onscreen.

Since then, I’ve cruised through university in a beautiful town, motorcycled to my heart’s content, hiked every mountain path within reach, and dabbled in drawing, writing, and even a stint in the military (don’t ask about the push-ups). There’s been marriage, divorce, love found again, and a life with a partner I wouldn’t trade for the world. And of course, the greatest adventure of all: raising a kid who’s more brilliant, funny, and chaotic than I’ve ever been.

My point is, all those experiences, good and bad, shaped me. They turned me into a person who can appreciate the absurdity of existence, embrace the unexpected, and laugh at myself (usually while covered in some kid-related goo). You see, even if Brad Pitt offered me his life on a silver platter, complete with Angelina (yes, even younger Angelina), I’d politely decline.

I’m happy right here, slightly tired as I write this, covered in kid fingerprints, and probably late for something again. Because who needs an apparent perfect  movie-star life when you’ve got an imperfect, hilarious reality show of your own?