The zaniness we love about the Sims arrives in Castaway once you’ve gotten a handle on sleeping and not-starving. Your Sim can build an SOS sign for Dharma initiative-style airdrops of random things, like a victrola or a candy bar.  As you collect island items, you can cook tasty dinners (your Sim was getting tired of bugs and raw fish), make new clothes, make tools or decorations, build a new house, make a canoe and just create all kind of island crafts. You can even make and play an ocarina! And, as you explore more, you’ll also befriend the other island refugees, and check out the ancient temple. All tropical islands have an ancient temple, don’t you know?

I’ve written such angry things about sparkly pink shopping games as “girls’ games”, that I hate to admit when I fall into a traditional girl pattern, but, well, I love pretend cooking. I like it in World of WarCraft, too, if that make me sound any less like an eight-year-old girl. I also like making Sim clothes and playing dress-up. Castaway avoids being an unappealingly feminine game by also having survival puzzles and mini-games about fish-catching and fire-building. Oh, and the game’s not pink, which is always good in my book.

Sims 2: Castaway seemed to make much better use of the DS interface than Sims 2. In the regular Sims 2, you’re forced to ignore the stylus, and use the clumsy buttons to navigate, but you can’t put the stylus away completely, because you need it to select menu options that really should be hotkeys or at least accessible by arrow keys. Sims 2: Castaway takes better advantage of the DS-specific interface, using either the stylus to move, and even creating minigames that require use of the microphone. The top screen is used to display the meters that are very familiar to Sims players.

One interface annoyance is the crafting book. When crafting, your Sim cannot create multiples of the same item. You need to select the crafting spot, tap Craft Things, then click the item you want to make,which leads to a screen showing you what materials will be reguired. On this screen, you must click Make. Then you’ll see a picture of what you’re making, and you must click OK. Then you see a picture of what you made, and you’re forced to click OK one more time. If you want to make a duplicate (or a second item), you’re back at the crafting book, and you need to do it all over again. And if your item is on the second or third page of the crafting book, it can be even longer. And if you need three of one item to make something special, well, seems like EA figured out how to most of the suck the fun from a crafting game.

I was a big fan of Sims 2 for the computer, so I expected to like Castaway. It was even better than I expected, with the exotic island theme, a zany but cohesive storyline, and all the adorably realistic animations we expect from the Sims.

Sims 2: Castaway on the DS was originally published June ’09 on Thumb Gods

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Game Review: Sims 2: Castaway

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It seemed, suddenly, like less of a surprising decor choice and more of a tangible symbol of excess, the constant bombardment of stuff. We don’t just consume Halloween candy, disposable naughty-cat costumes and window-cling ghosts, but we need a plastic severed head hanging from the ceiling to remind us that it’s time to buy those things.

Thinking about the layers of stuff reminds me that even my heavy-handed symbolism doesn’t exist in a vacuum. I didn’t look too closely (because, um… I did mention that it’s a plastic severed head, right?), but it seems to be injection molded plastic, which means someone designed the mold, and the paint. Do you think it went like this: Today, I have made my mark on the world, I designed a mold for plastic severed heads, and these heads will outlast me. Or maybe all those new hires in design are incompetent, so I got stuck redesigning the neck wounds. College kids come in and think they know everything, but it takes years in the field to really get that look of severed spine. Do you think, after that, someone else worked out that they could save 84 cents per dozen by making the plastic just a tiny bit thinner? And someone mixed a paint palette of  dead-flesh colors.

A factory probably bid on a contract for plastic severed heads, and lost.  Honey, I was thinking of going to Bali for our anniversary, but we lost the severed heads contract, so that’ll have to wait for next year. Maybe someone else was rejoicing over their new severed-heads prosperity.

Was it made, like everything else,  overseas? Eric once had a job working for a packing and shipping company, I wonder if he designed any cartons for the most efficient shipping of plastic severed body parts. If it was made in China, I’m starting to understand the pointing and staring thing. I mean, I come from the land of mass-produced plastic severed heads, who wouldn’t stare?

And the head in a chain store, which makes me wonder if there’s a Halloween seasonal plan-o-gram with the placement of the severed head marked out on a photocopied sheet. Is there a variation for other floorplans? Does a larger store get a tier-two plan-o-gram with a second plastic severed head? Does an employee get scolded by home office for misplacing or incorrectly hanging the severed head? And do you think it’ll go into a box in someone’s office next month, to make room for Santa Claus?

I hope in the far distant future, when archeologists are looking at the ruins of our cities, that the plastic severed head is an artifact uncovered for the American civilization.

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Severed Heads

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In other news, due to a serious lack of trick-or-treaters, Stick is going to eat a gigantic bag of Swedish fish all by himself.

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Geek Jack-O-Lanterns

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Swedish Fish

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Because I had walked into the salon on the off chance that they could do my eyebrows (and let me have a shower), there wasn’t a regular room available, and I was assigned to a “slimming room”. White spa towels, with a rose and gold silk cover on the table, red silky lampshades, and wallpaper with gold fu symbols. It was almost a shame to leave my battered jeans and boots in such a pretty room.

There was also some kind of slimming machine in the room, a big yellow monstrosity. I’m not quite sure what it was supposed to do, but I’m pretty sure Dr. Crusher would have known how to use it.

Oh, the shower. I might be slightly biased here because I hadn’t showered since Sunday, but the shower was incredible. Hot water, water pressure, scented shampoo. Did I mention the hot water? Also the shower stall was made out of black stone tiles and small mother-of-pearl mosaics. It was gorgeous and I would have been more impressed if I hadn’t been distracted by the hot water.

When I got out the shower there was an attendant standing by the stall door, holding an extra towel for my hair. It felt a bit odd at the time but now I wonder if I can get Stick to do that.

Another attendant was waiting in my room with a cup of tea, weird Chinese candy, and a bowl of rose petal water. I knew what to do with tea and weird candy (drink one and ignore the other) but I’ve never actually been presented with a bowl of rose petals. Pretty cool! Although it was mostly psychological… it didn’t really feel any different from plain water.

I did pretty well with my limited Chinese (my primary students taught me most basic body parts), but when the attendant wanted me to take my robe off and wrap up in a towel, though, the thought of a naked waiguoren was too much, and she resorted to sticking out the towel and mumbling quickly into her shoulder. Needless to say, it took me an extra long time to catch on to these instructions, but eventually I did, and lay down on the table.

I’ve often complained that nothing is fast and simple in China, but it finally worked out to my advantage. You can’t get eyebrow shaping without a facial. And that means an hour’s worth of pressure massage, warm oily stuff, cold face-creamy stuff, a different kind of a massage with a different kind of cream, a neck and arm massage while the facial potions worked their magic, oh, yeah that eyebrow stuff, then another massage with another cream. Amazing. I didn’t want it to end.

Unfortunately the price I got (88 RMB) was a special new-customers promotion, and before I could leave, I got harassed to buy a package of 20 facials for 6000 RMB, or become a member for 5000 RMB and get 50% off everything, or at least try the rose bath and body massage package. The hard sell ruined my mellow feelings, and actually made me less interested in returning, but I may go back for a bath.

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Modern Beauty Salon

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I got Stick some good WoW-playing food, Hot Pockets and Tina’s Burritos. I hid it from him in the freezer because although he might open the fridge to get a beer, he’d never open the freezer.
Fantastic Christmas presents! If you’re trying to say “I love you” or “I miss you“, you might go with flowers or jewelry. But nothing says “I like living in China with you” like a toaster oven and Western snacks. Then we lit our Christmas-tree-shaped candle, and had sandwiches and wine and Christmas candy.

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China Christmas

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My granny would get nostalgic over all the foods “from home” and the Scottish accents of the women in the butchers’ or the chip shop. I remember her showing me the candies she’d liked best as a child in the highlands, but unfortunately I also remember not being very impressed, and thinking that all candy is candy, so what’s the big deal with those toffees, Granny?

Yesterday, Stick and I took a pre-Christmas cross-town pilgrimage to Jenny Lou’s. Jenny Lou’s is a Western-import supermarket, and we thought we’d get some Christmas presents for ex-pat friends and some treats for ourselves. I’ve heard it’s a chain, we went to the one at the northwest corner of Ritan Park, and I was pretty happy with the selection.

It turns out that my granny was right, and all candy isn’t just candy. Stick and I found little packets of Jelly Bellies and Haribo gummy bears, so we each had a chance to make the very romantic announcement “You can get this for my stocking!”

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Following Traditions

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Saving something for best goes so completely against my personality, but for some reason I had Kahlua, Tia Maria and amaretto that I thought were too good for everyday drinking. Er… not that I drink everyday.

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Moving Out

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High romance, good food and foreign-language misadventures… Naturally I was pretty excited to be part of Maria’s virtual book tour. I loved the food in Rome, possibly a little too much but then I was recovering from a year of di san xien and mystery dumplings. I also got ask Maria a few questions.

Meg: How can I keep my attempts at white sauce from becoming a curdled mess?

Maria: You are talking about beschamel sauce-which is the typical white sauce- typically used in northern dishes once, but now everyone uses it. Especially for a baked dish. For instance you can make a great vegetarian style lasagna with this sauce and veggies and cheese- instead of using the typical red sauce and meat.
But in answer to your question-the best tip I have found that I use in my cooking programs when we teach this sauce is most obviously watch the pot,stay attentive to it. You can’t leave it on its’ own for a minute. But the best thing is to consistently stir it with a wire whisk instead of a spoon. And if you can;t find a wire whisk- a fork may make an okay substitute. But most importantly you must keep watching it because at one point the sauce will be watery and you think yo can leave it alone and then all of a sudden it has gotten thick and sticking to the bottom of the pot and burning in that split second you left it alone. Think of your white sauce like a baby-shouldn’t be left alone.

Meg: When I was in Rome, I had an awesome espresso with Nutella in the bottom. What’s your favorite coffee drink?

Maria: My favorite coffee drink is something similar to what you mentioned. I had it in this great coffee bar that is one of my favorites in Italy. (I just did an interview in San Francisco Chronicle about it on June 4th). In this town called L’Aquila-(famous because it has 100 beautiful churches with so many beautiful works of art) there is a company famous for making this scrumptious candy called a torrone. Now many regions in Italy have their own version of this. But the two famous companies in this town is one family that split up into two companies. The company name is Nurzia. There now is Sorelle Nurzia (Nurzia Sisters) and Fratelli (Brothers and brothers or brothers and sisters Nurzia) Nurzia. The candy is typically made soft or hard and is made up of honey egg whites, and nuts. They use also hazelnuts grown i the Piedmont region and they specially coat their candy with a decadent European style dark chocolate. And for a double chocolate thrill they add a cocoa powder to the candy itself and then coat it with chocolate. The original factory where this candy was started still exists (Fratelli Nurzia) and i the front is an elegant coffee bar. They make a wonderful coffee drink called cafe torronata- which refers to the torrone. They serve it so elegantly also. It is served in an elegant glass they first put a chocolate covered torrone in bottom of glass pour in a normal shot of espresso, wait one minute and let the chocolate begin to melt,then top with fresh panna (whipped cream,dust a little cocoa powder on top) And you have my favorite coffee drink. If you go t L’Aquila and ask anyone in town they can tell you where to find Fratelli Nurzia. best time to visit L’Aquila in end of August when they have their medieval festival- the same festival that has been held for over 700 yrs. You will feel like you are back in medieval days.

To order your own copy of The Basic Art of Italian Cooking, visit www.marialiberati.com. Let me know that you’re ordering, via email or in the comments, and you’ll get an autographed copy of the book, a sample of the spice blend, Sapori D’Italia, and a recipe for Tuscan-style bruschetta.

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The Basic Art Of Italian Cooking

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My dentist is great! He sends me reminders so I don’t forget checkups. He uses the latest techniques based on research. He never hurts me, and I’ve got all my teeth. When I ran into him the other day, I was eager to see if he’d heard about the new state program. I knew he’d think it was great.

“Did you hear about the new state program to measure effectiveness of dentists with their young patients?” I said.

“No,” he said. He didn’t seem too thrilled. “How will they do that?”

“It’s quite simple,” I said. “They will just count the number of cavities each patient has at age 10, 14, and 18 and average that to determine a dentist’s rating. Dentists will be rated as excellent, good, average, below average, and unsatisfactory. That way parents will know which are the best dentists. The plan will also encourage the less effective dentists to get better,” I said. “Poor dentists who don’t improve could lose their licenses to practice.”

“That’s terrible,” he said.

“What? That’s not a good attitude,” I said. “Don’t you think we should try to improve children’s dental health in this state?”

“Sure I do,” he said, “but that’s not a fair way to determine who is practicing good dentistry.”

“Why not?” I said. “It makes perfect sense to me.”

“Well, it’s so obvious,” he said. “Don’t you see that dentists don’t all work with the same clientele, and that much depends on things we can’t control? For example, I work in a rural area with a high percentage of patients from deprived homes, while some of my colleagues work in upper middle-class neighborhoods. Many of the parents I work with don’t bring their children to see me until there is some kind of problem, and I don’t get to do much preventive work. Also, many of the parents I serve let their kids eat way too much candy from an early age, unlike more educated parents who understand the relationship between sugar and decay. To top it all off, so many of my clients have well waterwhich is untreated and has no fluoride in it. Do you have any idea how much difference early use of fluoride can make?”

“It sounds like you’re making excuses,” I said. “I can’t believe that you, my dentist, would be so defensive. After all, you do a great job, and you needn’t fear a little accountability.”

“I am not being defensive!” he said. “My best patients are as good as anyone’s, my work is as good as anyone’s, but my average cavity count is going to be higher than a lot of other dentists because I chose to work where I am needed most.”

“Don’t get touchy,” I said.

“Touchy?” he said. His face had turned red, and from the way he was clenching and unclenching his jaws, I was afraid he was going to damage his teeth. “Try furious! In a system like this, I will end up being rated average, below average, or worse. The few educated patients I have who see these ratings may believe this so-called rating is an actual measure of my ability and proficiency as a dentist. They may leave me, and I’ll be left with only the most needy patients. And my cavity average score will get even worse. On top of that, how will I attract good dental hygienists and other excellent dentists to my practice if it is labeled below average?”

“I think you are overreacting,” I said. “‘Complaining, excuse-making and stonewalling won’t improve dental health’… I am quoting from a leading member of the DOC,” I noted.

“What’s the DOC?” he asked. “It’s the Dental Oversight Committee,” I said, “a group made up of mostly lay persons to make sure dentistry in this state gets improved”

“Spare me,” he said, “I can’t believe this. Reasonable people won’t buy it,” he said hopefully.

The program sounded reasonable to me, so I asked, “How else would you measure good dentistry?”

“Come watch me work,” he said. “Observe my processes.”

“That’s too complicated, expensive and time-consuming,” I said. “Cavities are the bottom line, and you can’t argue with the bottom line. It’s an absolute measure.”

“That’s what I’m afraid my parents and prospective patients will think This can’t be happening,” he said despairingly.

“Now, now,” I said, “don’t despair. The state will help you some.”

“How?” he asked.

“If you receive a poor rating, they’ll send a dentist who is rated excellent to help straighten you out,” I said brightly.

“You mean,” he said, “they’ll send a dentist with a wealthy clientele to show me how to work on severe juvenile dental problems with which I have probably had much more experience? BIG HELP!”

“There you go again,” I said. “You aren’t acting professionally at all.”

“You don’t get it,” he said. “Doing this would be like grading schools and teachers on an average score made on a test of children’s progress with no regard to influences outside the school, the home, the community served and stuff like that. Why would they do something so unfair to dentists? No one would ever think of doing that to schools.”

I just shook my head sadly, but he had brightened. I’m going to write my representatives and senators,” he said. “I’ll use the school analogy. Surely they will see the point.”

He walked off with that look of hope mixed with fear and suppressed anger that I, a teacher, see in the mirror so often lately.

From the blog Simpson's Paradox, please comment here:

No Dentist Left Behind

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