Suprising Advertising

Looks like American battery manufacturers are taking a cue from their Chinese counterparts! Now you won’t have to buy a duckie bath thermometer separately!

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Oliver Twist

Oliver Twist
8111-137 Creedmoor Rd
Raleigh, NC 27613

Last week was Triangle Restaurant Week, when an assortment of local restaurants run a special set menu. We were meeting up with Lynn and some of her friends.

I ended up narrowing our dining choices to between Oliver Twist and Red Room, but the humor value of a restaurant naming itself after the Dickensian orphan famous for wanting more gruel, won out. What can I say? As an English major and bibliophile, that’s right up there with Gatsby Gardens and Gatsby hair products for men.

Oliver Twist Tapas Restaurant & Martini Lounge on UrbanspoonThe interior was gorgeous. With it’s strip-mall location, Twist has a challenge with the utter lack of windows and natural light, but they succeeded with dark wood furniture, red drapes, cushions and a stylish wine bar feel.  (A bit like the wine cellar at Alla Osteria)

Our wines and martinis were all tasty, our waitress was friendly, and I can’t emphasize enough just how pretty the place is. Our food was all stylishly plated and looked like a food magazine. But the food tasted… fine. It wasn’t bad, but for a splurge restaurant like this, I expected better. There was nothing I couldn’t prepare myself (with my meat the slightest bit overdone and my asparagus just the slightest bit underdone, it was uncannily like I did cook it myself!), so the markup for gorgeous plating was just too high.

Also, the food arrived in the way Stick and I call “Chinese style”, which means there was a huge wait between when the first plates and last plates came out. This works in a traditional Chinese restaurant because everyone’s eating from the same dishes, no one is watching their food get cold as they wait politely for their date’s dinner to arrive. But, in a Western restaurant, it’s really annoying.

I still had a great time, because the drinks and company (thanks to Lynn’s “devious friend matchmaking scheme”) were both fantastic, and the food was fine. I think Stick and I would go back for a bottle of wine, or a cocktail from the extensive martini list.

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Southern Mandarin

Raleigh graffiti artist Wang tags a downtown street.

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That You Can Live By

One of my November resolutions was to need the “job hunting” tag less frequently. (New Year’s resolutions are for conformists) For the most part, that’s worked out. I have some great clients and gigs right now, and no horror stories. But the Chinese school semester ended last week so I’m looking for some kind of summer work. I found a fun and interesting temp job, but I literally gasped when I was told how low the rate was.

I asked for a few days to think it over. One hand, fun and interesting! But on the other hand, how much will my self-esteem suffer by making what I made in high school? I laid out all the pros and cons to my mom on the phone.

“I think it all comes down to whether there’s a dress code,” I said, “The salary so ridiculously low that it’s barely worth the gas money to come in. If I have to buy khakis or something, it’s actually a money-losing proposition.”

“Well… you wouldn’t come to work in something skimpy or ratty, would you?”

“No. But you know, Mom, I think a job has to offer me health insurance to make me dress like an adult.”

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And Whatever It Is Farmers Raise

My friend Lynn works in a flower shop. She called about a week ago to tell me she was on her way over with a present, a little potted lavender, because when I said I always kill my plants, she took it as a challenge. Lavender, she promised, require occasional watering and they like to be completely bone dry before watering. I’d do fine, she promised.

My aura of plant death is extra embarrassing because the women in my family who aren’t me all have green thumbs. I didn’t get the Mackay green thumb, I got the lesser-known Doom Thumb. I think it’s recessive. It’s not that I don’t like flowers, it’s just that I can’t keep up with all the required maintenance. All that remembering to water. And not letting them freeze to death.

Sometimes people ask when Stick and I plan to have children, and I remind them that I can’t be responsible for a geranium.

But now I have this pretty potted lavender, and I haven’t killed it yet. It smells nice, and it has pretty purple flowers, and if we have one thing that needs care and attention, why not have two? This is the sort of logic probably employed by crazy cat ladies.

So Stick and I picked up a couple other herbs, because I dare you to walk past the smells of mint and basil and not want them. We thought we’d take them out of their sad little supermarket pots and put them in bigger ones. Since we were getting so garden-y, we decided to give a couple of seed packets a try, too. We set up a little balcony garden, with pots of dirt where we hope to soon have plants.

Today we had the first yellow-green tips of our tiny sprouting scallions!

Or carrots. I’m not entirely sure which is which, we mixed up the pots. I’m not very good at gardening.

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Visiting Strangetown: Sims 2 on the DS

You’re on your way from someplace much cooler to someplace much cooler when your car breaks down in Strangetown, and the Sims 2 game begins. A local yokel says he can fix that, but while you’re waiting (it goes without saying that the required part’s on backorder in Strangetown), you take over as manager of a creepy, rundown hotel, in this little town of odd events.

Almost everyone who’s played the Sims knows that the ghosts, alien abductions and general parmanormal silliness are the best part of the Sims, so the makers of Sims 2 for the DS toned down the time spent watching your Sim sleep or cook dinner, and increased the zany encounters.

You play as one Sim, not a household, and the story is much more linear than the PC versions.  It’s also no longer a sandbox game. Players have limited control over hotel guests, but important penthouse guests arrive, check in, and send players on unavoidable missions. I happened to like the penthouse missions, especially goth cultist Ava Cadarva, but it wasn’t the almost-unlimited sandbox play style we knew and loved in other Sims games.

The NPCs are hilarious, and as you play, you discover more about them, especially the friendly builder who moonlights as local superhero, the Ratticator. (No, I’m not telling who) The Strangetown shopkeeper resembles the alien boy from the PC Sims, grown up and collecting parts for his spaceship.

There’s a lot of room for interaction with the NPCs. A player will often find an NPC needs to be cheered up, calmed down or even restrained if they’re going a bit loopy. You can also impress or romance characters. To do this — and this makes the game — you must select the right action from a choice of three posibilities by watching the other Sim’s body language and choosing what they need. You kiss a Sim who offers you his cheek, console a crying Sim, use your calm hands when a Sim waves his angrily. This part is so well done! Although there were more possible interactions in the PC version, I thought the DS was more interactive and more fun.

As you build more in the hotel, more options are available to you. There’s an art gallery where you can draw pictures with the stylus and sell them for Simoleons, a stage to mix music, and a casino for gambling. There are also random events, like in the PC Sims, but instead of a Sim child bringing a friend home from school or the fridge breaking, Strangetown is attacked by aliens or mobsters.

Unfortunately, the interface is awful. It completely fails to take advantage of the stylus for navigation. Players use the buttons to move, and when you either step on or bang into an activatable object, then you use the stylus on the touchscreen to select the interaction. So, clumsy keypad for navigation, and then stylus-only for one-touch actions, that should be a key shortcut. It’s almost like the interface is designed as a joke, or a twisted test of just how good the Sims franchise is. How awkward would Sims have to be before I stopped playing it?

Also, the game is one long clipping error. Sims stick their arms through each other and walk through furniture, and it’s impossible to navigate without bits of the scenery covering the screen or getting odd peeks into nearby rooms. The graphics are patchy. Columns reflect off the tiled floor in the Modern Guest Bedroom, but when my Sim takes a shower, her heel and ponytail clip through the curtain. Choppy graphics on a tiny screen and mashing the thumb button to move… that is exactly why I’m not usually a fan of handheld game systems.

Overall, Sims 2 is an addictive game, with a very unfriendly interface. There’s some room for improvement with the graphics as well, but given a choice between disappointing graphics and a great story, or gorgeous graphics and a lame story, I’ll pick the first one every time. And the Strangetown world and storyline need no improvement.

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Checking Out At The Library

As months go by, I’m getting more and more soured on the endless parking lots here, opening into shopping or office complexes and strip malls without sidewalks, a city designed for a life like that of the old Peking emperors, where our feet never touch the ground. My wanderlust is frustrated by roads that don’t actually go places, cutely named loops with housing cul-de-sacs on either side. Cary makes all these lists of the nicest places to live in the US, which reminds me that this suffocating sameness I feel is not you, it’s me.

I try to focus on the things I like here. Working in the Chocolate Bean, good meals at Bosphorus and Unaabi Grill, the Middle Earth poster in my boss’ office, my wonderful students, driving past Awesome Street, walking around Hoffman Lake (yes, that’s the real name!). Playing with Isabelle. Our apartment, a happy bubble of Meg and Stick. The simple enjoyment of English conversation hasn’t entirely worn off yet.

And I like the little town library here. It’s between the school and the train station, across from the post office, an ESL lesson come to life. This is also, perhaps not so coincidentally, one street that’s good for foot traffic. I love reading the liberal bumper stickers and seeing the reusable book bags.  I remind myself to really enjoy the easy access to English books now, because I hope I’ll soon be missing them again.

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North Carolina State Fairgrounds

I like the state fairgrounds because they allow me to use bucranium in everyday conversation.

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Wolverine

Going into a superhero movie, we all know that we have to suspend our disbelief just a little bit more, but ill-defined powersets abound in the new X-Men Origins. Really, how many extra-strong, invulnerable guys with extendable knuckle claws can one movie hold?

Still, I like the X-Men premise, and I enjoyed going. There were good scenes with brooding, thoughtful Wolverine, some more about his past, and an interesting look at Stryker as well. Stryker’s evil plan is to round up all the mutants and create Sylar, I mean, Weapon Eleven, a superpowered mega-mutant combining all the other mutants’ powers into one.

Weapon Eleven is controlled by text commands. Do you see why this would be is a bad idea? I imagine it turning out like an old text game.

Stryker: Shoot

Weapon 11: I don’t have a target to shoot.

Stryker: Wolverine

Weapon 11: What do you want me to do to Wolverine?

Stryker: Shoot Wolverine

Weapon 11: With what?

Stryker: Shoot Wolverine with gun

Weapon 11:  This gun isn’t loaded.

Stryker: Load gun with ademantium bullets

Weapon 11:  I don’t have any ‘ademantium’.

Stryker:  Adamantium bullets

Weapon 11:  What should I do with the adamantium bullets?

At which point Stryker would say something foul, and Weapon Eleven would ask if he kisses his mother with that mouth, and then Stryker would have no choice but to go down and shoot Wolverine himself. That’s what he ends up doing, so the frustrating text-based game bit probably just got cut  out for time. Maybe it’ll be a bonus scene on the DVD.

These adamantium bullets are a special mind-erasing attack, since Wolverine can’t actually be killed. it’s a good thing that the bullets hit only Wolverine’s memories, and not, say, the part of the brain that controls his reflexes or bladder control. It seems kind of silly to wipe a guy’s memories and then turn all we-meet-again mysterious later, but it might be part of a sinister plot.

I think the greatest X-Men storyline would just be all the mutants hanging around at mutant school, using their powers to do everyday things. A high school drama with superpowers. So I was pretty disappointed that once the trapped mutants were rescued, we didn’t get a cool ensemble, they weren’t even all named. (Speaking of the rescue: Seriously? A room full of assorted mutant superpowers and they were all thwarted by chicken wire? Nobody had any laser powers or teleport or superstrength? Hmmm.)

There are small continuity errors in all prequels, and since I like the X-Men stories in general, I’ll try to get around them. Cyclops was rescued from evil Stryker’s secret lair by Wolverine, but later, in the first X-Men movie, he has no memory of Stryker or Wolverine? He must have gotten shot in the head with adamantium mind-erasers too.

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Wrong for Twenty-Something Years

The other day I was reading a bridal magazine (researching an article, really!) and I saw a bit about Denby china. I was shocked, because although I’ve been hearing and using the word Denby since I was a very little girl, usually in combined with the words don’t break or be careful, I never knew that Denby was a brand name! For twenty-something years I’ve thought it was a pattern, like paisley.

This is almost as bad as when when I found out that Calais doesn’t rhyme with place.

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