The Sims 2: Creating Myself

It would likely be more entertaining if I started this article with some comment about a desire to live in a life with an 'undo' button, eventually trailing off into a joke or two about choosing my physical features. Where's the fun in that, though? I'd rather pick the honesty route and say the real reason in which I began to play The Sims: 2 once more, ten years after it's creation. It was given away free on Origin, and much like yogurt, if it's free I'll give it a shot no matter how old it is.

I don't remember much about The Sims from when I was a kid. I never had the patience to really build a character properly as I spent the majority of my time fiddling with the character creation settings and trying to make a unique but still properly functioning house. Both of these goals always fell well short; my character always ended up looking pretty well the same, and I wasn't creative enough to build a house that reached beyond the designing techniques of one basic rectangle. Fortunately, the character creation section was sorely outdated now and with that comes a lack of appeal, resulting in me giving the breath of life to my freshly birthed Sim in record time.

See the guy third from the right, lurking behind the green dude? We

become quite well acquainted.

 

 

I didn't go for anything flashy - in fact, he was pretty much just me. Skinny white guy, blonde hair, light jacket and jeans… everything was pretty well normal until I discovered the option of having a Bioshock-esque diving helmet on my head. Admittedly, this made my choices for hair and face quickly obsolete, but if you have the opportunity to live your life perpetually able to survive in the deep end of swimming pools without basic lessons, you take it in a heartbeat. My Sim was off to a great start, and without further adieu, he was ready to take the plunge into his real, fake life.

 

I purchased an empty lot to build my future dream-home. I planted some walls, some nice trees out front, a window or two, the whole nine yards. I then proceeded to struggle with putting a roof on the thing for the next (I kid you not) twenty minutes or so. At one point I somehow managed to build a giant cone around the entirety of the walls, at which point I was feeling the pangs of regret from turning off the 'hint' options quite dearly. Once I learned the trick to it (click second floor, not first!) I went about decorating the walls with some nice wooden-themed wallpapers, stone floors, and other such accessories that made my house look shockingly spiffy considering the freshly moved-out circumstances I was given. My Sim is going to freaking love this place.

 

Unfortunately, I may have gone a little overboard. His $352 left in his wallet were just enough to purchase a toilet and literally nothing else. His dream-home just became the single greatest outhouse known to man. Fortunately, he's a content fellow, and milled about over the next several hours catching bugs and reading the newspaper - in which he found a job as a security guard, coming by the following day at 7:00 p.m. to pick him up. What joy! A daily wage will surely be able to allow him to purchase a fridge. 

These Sims are way cooler than the ones I met. Wait, is that an
alien? Am I even playing the same game?

The neighbourhood came out to greet their new homeowner, marveling over his outhouse with awe and reverence. He spoke with some woman for quite some time, but they didn't really hit it off - I think trying to open with a high five just didn't work with her personality. Fortunately, it did with another lad in the neighbourhood, and he had a new friend faster than anything. His social meter - one of the bars of measurement for the happiness of your Sims - was through the roof. His bladder level was also just perfect, the new toilet serving it's duty flawlessly. 

 

However, there was trouble on the horizon - he was hungry as all heck, having not eaten in many hours time and having no access to the magically stocked super-fridge. Hoping desperately another Sim would bring over a pizza, he passed out on the floor, exhausted and lacking even a chair. The rock was somehow not as comfortable as he had hoped, and the hunger pains must have made it difficult to sleep. He kept asking for food, his free-will just strong enough to beg for sustenance. At a loss for cash, I had no idea what to do. I couldn't feed him. I refused to get a refund on any of the beautiful wallpaper I had laid down. What's a Sim to do?

 

Fortunately, a new visitor came to the door (perhaps he has pizza!). I didn't recognize him - he was dressed all in black, somewhat of a ghostly complexion, and brandishing a rather impressive farming implement. He politely informed me that my Sim had passed away. 

Well, crap. I'll try again tomorrow.