Today, I'm introducing the world to my Sim alter-ego. She's really going places, unlike my actual self, who's hardly moved in months.

Although I've never identified with the title of "gamer," simulation video games have held a special place in my heart for almost as long as I can remember. Back when I was way too young to know what the word "WooHoo" euphemized, my older cousin showed me The Sims on his computer—the original, horrifically low-res version that came out in 2000—and very patiently taught me the basics of building a house in the world's most famous simulation game to date. Little did anyone know that I'd be hooked for life.

But The Sims didn't return to me until a few years later; in the meantime, I built theme parks in Roller Coaster Tycoon, trained labrador retrievers in Nintendogs, and pestered my friend's brother to let us play Mario Kart and Tony Hawk Pro Skater on his Nintendo 64. At some point, when my parents deemed me old enough, they bought me The Sims 2. I likely killed half my brain cells during my innumerable hours of playing it.