It’s not easy being a spoiled only child. No, really. From the day I left the womb, I had everything I ever wanted…except friends. I didn’t know a single kid in the neighborhood, had little in common with my classmates, and barely left home. Heck, I never even learned how to ride a bike. Ever. Needless to say, my life was less-than-typical growing up.
This is not to say that it was necessarily bad; this just meant that I had to entertain myself more than the average kid. My imagination ran rampant to avoid going stir-crazy. I would immerse myself in any piece of fiction I encountered, whether it be a television show, movie, or book. I constantly pretended to be someone else because the person that I was seemed so pathetic. In my mind’s eye, being an Ewok was better than being a dorky girl.
To make matters worse, I was a tomboy, but my parents made sure to keep boys at bay. Tragically enough, I was doomed to play with my Star Wars figures in solitude. And let me tell you: being all four Ninja Turtles at once is a very depressing and daunting task.
Come mid-to-late 80s, I was looking for something more to life than action figures. One can only play with Orko so many times without feeling like a loser. Christmas of 1989 brought me everything I wanted and then some: Nintendo. I traded in my spaceships for a pair of game controllers. It was instantly the breath of fresh air that I had sought for years.
