One Time in China, I…saved a frog’s life.

As promised, here is my first installment of One Time in China, I…

Enjoy!

One Time in China, I…saved a frog’s life.

I’m an animal lover. Big time. Growing up, my family always had pets—many cats, a few dogs, several hamsters, and one big goldfish. My mom has never been an animal person (she tolerates them), but my dad has always had a penchant for feeding stray cats that wandered up to our houses over the years. Even his current dog, that he so adores, was a throwaway. He found the poor thing wandering around near his place of work, and after turning her in to the shelter and no one claiming her, he took her home. So, I guess I get my love for our furry friends from my dad. I just can’t stand to see animals in need or in trouble.

That said, China can be a rough place for animal lovers. You may have heard that they eat dog and cat over there. It’s not a myth. I know dog is more of a winter delicacy. It’s also pricey, from what I understand. Cat as a food, on the other hand, I don’t know much about. I don’t really want to know, either. It was one thing I pushed out of my mind while there, and went out of my way to avoid witnessing. Luckily, in Shanghai you can avoid a lot of things. That’s why I love it there.

However, I could not avoid the live frogs, turtles, fish, and eels available in the grocery store. And I’m not talking about in the pet section either. I had to force myself to turn a blind eye to that. I once saw a live fish flopping around on the floor next to the tank, and no one caring. One day, I was walking to said grocery store to pick up a few things (nothing alive, thank you very much!), when I saw a big, brown frog hopping down the middle of the sidewalk. It was very out of place. I have no idea why it was there, but I wondered if it had escaped from a cage someone had been transporting. I took a deep breath and just kept walking. I can’t help that frog. What would I do for it? I thought the entire way to the store. It made me so mad that a stupid frog could bother me so much, but it did. My favorite children’s books, after all, are the Frog & Toad series, so all I could think of was good old Frog, trying not to eat too many cookies, and agreeing not to look at Toad in his bathing suit.

So, I told myself that if the frog was still there on my way home, I’d figure something out. I’d let destiny take over. I went to the store and got whatever it is I was after that day, and bought an extra plastic sack—just in case. On my way home, sure enough, there was the frog, inches away from hopping into the busy street where it would have been flattened in mere seconds. I quickly opened my extra plastic bag and scooped the frog up into it. A Chinese man approached me after seeing what I’d done, and started asking me something, smiling and pointing at the bag. Are you going to eat that? I imagine he said. Unable to understand or respond, I just smiled and said, “I’m rescuing it.” Yes, I know that was silly and that he didn’t understand, but what else could I say? I carried the frog down the street a little further to a fancy apartment complex with a pond. There was a guard at the gate, but being a foreigner, I strolled right in without even a glance. I went over to the pond and let the frog out of the bag. He immediately claimed his freedom, jumping into the water and swimming away. "Stupid frog," I muttered as I walked away, happy that I didn’t have to worry about him all day long.

I tell you, sometimes loving animals so much feels like a curse.

I’m So Tortured and So Cliché!

I recently saw the movie Limitless, starring Bradley Cooper. In this film he plays Eddie Morra, a struggling writer who discovers a drug that helps him “get stuff done” in record time. (That is the plot in a seriously small nutshell, so I’ll let you head over to IMDb to read more about it.) Bradley Cooper playing a writer? Hell yeah! I was hooked from the get. If I must be honest, I didn’t even know his character was a writer when I bought my second-run theater ticket. In fact, I knew very little about the plot at all. I just knew I was going to get to stare at Bradley Cooper for nearly two hours. That’s all it took. So, I was pleasantly surprised to find out he was playing a writer. 

In the beginning of the film, we see how he’s been struggling to get his book started. He lives in a crappy apartment and wanders aimlessly around New York City looking like he hasn’t showered or laundered his clothing in weeks. At one point, he tries to explain his book’s premise to some guys at a bar, but the effort is lost when he’s unable to convey any sense through his words. Even though he says over and over that he already has a book deal, no one takes him seriously. He’s just some pathetic guy who is “still trying to write.” To me, he is the epitome of a lonely, tortured writer.

I don’t think I have ever related to a male character as much as I did him. Sure, I have identified with female characters in film and TV (pretty sure I am Felicity) over the years, but watching Eddie Morra really made me feel something. I could totally see myself in his shoes. Maybe I’d pay more attention to my personal hygiene, but to have a million ideas swimming through my head and have a hard time writing them down—well, that’s me. Even though I felt connected to him, I still hope I’m never in his situation. Though there is some weird, romantic connotation associated with being a struggling, bohemian writer-type wandering around New York City and acting all artsy and stuff, I can’t say it’s what I desire for myself. (Not that I wouldn’t die to live in NYC, don’t get me wrong!) I’m all about paying my dues, but to be so sad and lonely all the time—that’s not really something to be excited about. What is it with writers being so damn depressed all the time? 

I believe I am naturally inclined to write, because I am overly sensitive. But am I always depressed? Maybe not in the “clinical” sense, but I do have a dark cloud over my head at times. My emotions control me. I notice miniscule slights that perhaps others would overlook. I often feel like no one understands me. I’m neurotic. And introverted. Socially awkward? You bet. I know, I’m just so tortured, right? I feel weird telling you all this stuff. But, it’s true. Lately, I’ve realized how much I have closed myself off—not letting many people get to know me. Why I am that way is another story, and I doubt I’ll change anytime soon, but it does feel good to confess. Maybe I am Eddie Morra after all. Minus the drugs, of course. Wow, how totally Psych 101 was all that crap?

So, what did Limitless do for me? Well, in a strange way, it inspired me to get off my lazy arse and start writing. For reals. Yes, I am trying to write a novel, but that’s all I will say. I can sit here and hope that the words in my head will magically appear on screen, perfect and ready for best seller-dom, but we all know how that will turn out for me. Like many writers, I alternate between thinking my work is brilliant, and thinking it’s the worst rubbish that’s ever been typed into Word. Which is it? I guess we’ll all find out someday when my book is on the New York Times “Best Sellers” list. Or isn’t. 

Alright, short story long, watch Limitless. It’s amazing. Thought provoking, even. Ladies (and some gents), you won’t be disappointed. And hey, you other gents will like it too. You’ll sooo wish you could be Eddie Morra. I promise.