But Call Me Betsy

Okay, here’s the thing. I think I’ve said this before, but I truly believe that the way you play Sims gives you a mirror into the way you’d like to manage your life. For instance, I can only play Sims in a way that attempts to make all of the characters as happy as possible. This illustrates a trait in my every day life (and a peek into my psychosis). I am sensitive about how people are thinking and I don’t mean this to sound as though I am a total humanitarian; all this really means is that I’ve learned that it’s very important to pay attention to small gestures and signs from others to determine how I might keep myself safe and out of trouble. I don’t like conflict and so I play the Sims in a way that allows for the least amount of unhappiness. This means that I am somewhat of a control freak. I don’t like things to go awry. I don’t like my Sims to be too distressed; to have to pee or to be hungry or lonely. I must make sure that they are completely fine on very superficial levels (a...

It just occurred to me again (I'm sure I've thought this before) that Ikea is nothing more than a gigantic Sims store. In fact, the two companies might even work together. I swear to you that the kid's whimsical bedroom furniture available at Ikea is identical in Sims II. And honestly, all of the furniture that you can buy for your avatar people in Simland can also be purchased at this gigantic, real life faux (?) Swiss shoppe. Moving has made me feel like the new Sim on the block. I believe I have already made two gigantic social errors that would put me in the red. Moments after I arrived back from the grocery store, about five boys between the ages of 8-10 burst out of this one house to throw the football back and forth on the street. I thought maybe they were trying to impress me. Then I dropped a bag of groceries and we all watched as a can of pinto beans rolled out in the street, followed by a pint of Ben and Jerry's half-baked frozen yogurt (2 for $5). One of the...

Not as many hipsters in here today as there usually are. The fashion item for today is men in black knit caps. I spy four of them right now (there are only about a dozen people present). Also a couple of ironically ugly sweaters (I'm hoping they're ironic). My least favorite barrista is here. She never, ever, never smiles, wears a blank, expressionless face, moves with absolutely no sense of urgency so that you wait for a minimum of ten minutes to get a cup of coffee even when there's just one person ahead of you, and uses the least amount of words possible to complete the transaction no matter how nice you are to her: Example: B: Yes? Customer: Could I please have a cup of coffee for her? B: $1.25. I'm sure if she could manage it, she would just stand looking at you until you pointed at what you wanted, thus requiring no real interaction at all. Here's another exchange Liz and I once witnessed with her. (Confused man standing at counter). B: Yes? Man: Uh...how ...

I cannot possibly recount everything we did in California since we went to about 5 kajillion places. Highlights, only in the order upon which I remember them: 1. Aquarium in Monterey . We saw lots of otters frolicking and playing with balls and penguins standing in the faux sun with their beaks in the air. I touched a bat ray and wasn't stung. The most beautiful exhibit had to be the jelly fish--even though they gross me out a little because they are so alien looking. Do they have eyes? Brains? 2. Sea lions. Shawn kept calling them fat Henri's. In fact, any animal we saw that was even slightly fat, he compared to a Henri. 3. Trying on clothes at Buffalo Exchange in the Haight district. I know that is totally lame to go a Buffalo Exchange when they have them here, but I am in love with thrift store bargains, as you know. 4. Seeing the big fat round moon through the telescope in San Fran. 5. HDTV (sorry--shallow again, but we got to watch several episodes of the new Laguna Be...

Three nearly identically dressed thin twenty-something guys with brown hair. They are all wearing hoodies , jeans, and sneakers--one with a black knit cap tight against his head. All are artistic and by "artistic" I mean effeminate (cross their legs, gesture with their hands, speak with a certain drawl). We also have a husband and wife and their blue jumper clad eight month old--a bald headed baby boy (also wearing a hoodie ) who is behaving pretty well aside from his persistent " aaaaaaaaaaaaaaahhhhhhhhhhhhhhh "- ing . Seems like everyone knows everyone here--how do they meet? Should I introduce myself loudly to the room? "Hey, guys, I live just down the street and I like interesting things and will wear quirky clothes on occasion." I could brag about my recent publishing accomplishments even though they are not based on anything I did really recently. Philadelphia Stories is republishing "Wonderful Girl" in their first anthology and I jus...

I blushed yesterday for the first time in about 15 years. As you may know, I have a slight addiction to Sims II, a PC game wherein you basically play life--creating characters who then have to fulfill mundane human needs like eating, sleeping, socializing, going to the bathroom, and having fun--which you fulfill endlessly at the expense of your own appetite/social life/bladder. And because I love my Sims so much, I had to buy the latest expansion pack as soon as I came out (it's about pets. I love pets!). I went first to Best Buy and was looking around at the PC selection but didn't see it. I approached an employee and before I even opened my mouth, he said, Let me guess. You're looking for Sims Pets? That is when I blushed. What was it in my appearance that hinted that I spend a not insignifcant amount of time playing a simulation game most popular with pre-teens? Was it my Hello Kitty purse, my ponytails, or my I HEART THE SIMS tee shirt? They did not have Pets yet. I lef...