Category: friends

Trash & Fashion.

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Recently I did a story on our school’s first Trash Fashion Show and I gained some new knowledge about creating beauty.

What is the definition of beauty? In my opinion, beauty does not mean a gorgeous appearance, but it’s more about the internal significance. Just like Trash Fashion, which most people would refer to the costumes that are just simply made of trash.

However, trash fashion is much more than that.

It takes time and endeavor. Since I have the same art class with my friend Sophia, I was lucky enough to actually watch the complete process of her making the plastic wedding dress. She started from collecting and reorganizing the materials – plenty of white  plastic bags. First of all, she created the long train by sewing knots. It turned out to be a “web” eventually. Then she made the body dress, in which she built several layers to make the dress fluffy.

It took her about two months to complete the whole bridal gown. According to Sophia, the most difficult part was to glue the bags together and the materials were so soft that she had to be really careful not to tear them off.

Finally the big day came. I did not expect to be her model, but because of the absence of Ellen, who was supposed to the model, I had to wear the dress instead. I was totally astonished when I put on the huge dress.

We walked on the deck of the pool. It drove everyone’s attention and I felt extremely proud of my designer. It seemed like a real fashion show to me and people were taking pictures, asking questions. For a moment I thought i was dreaming.

Just like Sophia said, “Trash Fashion does not mean everything will look trashy, it’s more about fashion. Within such simple materials, we can still make beautiful pieces.”

Yes, I think she’s right. Trash Fashion combines two “opposite” concepts together and builds something beyond the normal beauty.

On the other hand, trash fashion also helps to increase people’s environmental awareness. Fashion may be fabulous, but the way our clothes are made is incredibly wasteful. The small things we waste from daily uses can be saved instead of being thrown away.

It was my first time seeing and wearing such gorgeous fashionable clothes made out of “trash,” and It was also the time that I realized trash fashion can be beautiful as well.

What Hill?

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“Ready, set, GO!”

I’ve never even thought about running 3 miles before. And I am not kidding.
But once I reached that goal, I fell in love with running. And I am not kidding either.

I was not born to be a runner, so I did not treat running seriously in the beginning.

Last year I joined the cross-country team, because we did not have tennis.
“It’s just running, not a big deal,” I told myself. But I was totally wrong.

Everyday we ran different things. At the beginning, I could not even finish one whole mile without walking and the worst part of my day was always  sports time.
The sun never rested during the practice. We did harder workouts at least once a week. I could not walk the day after tough practice. I was hurting everywhere on my body.

But I was getting better.

Then I had to face the very first cross-country meet in my life – at Thatcher.
I was extremely nervous. I could feel my legs shaking and my heart was beating like a drum.
I did not expect to run the whole three miles, that seemed impossible to me. But I decided to try anyways.

Everyone was exhausted and I just kept running in slow pace. I thought about the days we ran together; I thought about how Mr. Alvarez encouraged us and pushed our backs; I thought about home and wondered if my parents were having fun this holiday; I thought… I thought about everything, i thought about nothing.
I just ran and ran.

Everyone was encouraging me as well. “Let’s go, Shelly!”

“Almost there!”

“Way to run girl!”
And yes, I finished it without stopping or walking. I guess that would be the time I felt the most proud of myself.

After the very first race, I changed my opinion of running. I did not hate it or fear it anymore. I started to accept it because I knew I was capable of defeating it.
Three month’s of training, the season ended strongly with all the incredible improvements i gained everyday.

This year, I was glad to see our cross-country team grow much bigger, with more than 20 people.
The weather was fervent as well, of course. We ran pretty much the same courses but it did not feel as painful as it did before.

As for me, running is not only the thing I do to fulfill my sports time. It changes me, slowly but thoroughly. I became faster and stronger.

Our team got new shirts this year, and they says “What Hill?” on the back. They are the best shirts ever, I think, because no one else but we runners know the special meanings of those two words.

Finally it comes – my last cross-country meet at Thatcher, the place where everything begins.

It is probably my last time running a whole 3-miles course with my friends, wearing the green uniforms which we would never stop complaining about.

We don’t run for the certain miles or the destination, we don’t run for fame or glory.
But we do run to conquer all kinds of hills, we do run to challenge and prove ourselves.

We line up as usual. Everyone is encouraging each other and smiling.

Suddenly my heart is filled with joy.
Suddenly I realize that running does not only bring me power and strength to defeat all the distance and hills; running brings me courage, friendships, love, and valuable memories.

Yes, we are Cross-Country Team.
And WE RUN.

For Sake of the Snake (part 2)

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After that snake incident, I soon began watching Austin Steven’s Adventures on Animal Planet. He specialized in reptiles, which was the main reason I watched his shows. My interest in snakes was growing, and I began to ask my parents for my own pet. I wasn’t allowed a snake at first, so I got a bearded dragon instead, whom I named Tanny. A few weeks later I went back and was allowed to get a black and white banded Californian Kingsnake, and I very creatively named her Shadow Mist. Shadow for short.

I was kinda nervous about Shadow at first. I didn’t want to get bit and I always used gloves when handling her. After a month or so I just thought “screw this” and I gave up on being cautious. She only struck at me a few times and I had never gotten bit by her. She was a beautiful little snake, and had a little white star on her forehead.

After school I would head straight for her enclosure and drape her around my neck before writing in my journal. She would just lay there motionless as I wrote, absorbing the little heat I could put out and watching the movements of my pencil.

Tanny died a few months later, but I still had Shadow.

About a year and a half later I had to leave for OVS, and leaving her behind was upsetting for me. Did my parents know how to take care of her? What if my cat got her? What if she got lost? She got lost often due to a faulty enclosure but I would always find her in odd spots. Once I didn’t even realize she was lost until I spotted her on my doorknob. Scared me to death, that little stunt did.

Anyways, during my first Christmas break I finally went back to China to visit. Our cat and dog were ecstatic to see me, but somehow, it was like Shadow knew I had come back to visit. Her body was pressed up against the glass of the enclosure, and she lifted her body up vertically and did the weird dance that many cobras do while flaring their hoods. I took her out immediately and she never struck.

About a year later I asked about her and my mom said that she had escaped and they couldn’t find her. “When?” I asked. “Oh, six months ago.”

I MEAN WHAT. If a little girl’s pet gets lost or died, maybe you could say something like “he ran away,” or “doggy went up to heaven,” but I was freaking 15! You can’t just… Not tell me when something that important to me disappears!

I haven’t gone back to China since Freshman Christmas. Now I’m a Junior, and this Christmas my brother and I are going back to China for a little bit. I like to think that Shadow’s still in the house somewhere, watching the family from the cracks in the ceiling and eating any stray mice that come along. Maybe sometime in college I’ll get another snake.

My dream job is what Austin Steven’s doing. If I get bit? I’ll suffer, but I’ll have to trust modern medicine, I guess.

Now thinking about it, I feel like my favorite animal is the snake after all.

For Sake of the Snake (part 1)

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It was 9:30 at night, maybe 10:00. I was reading intensely, as I usually do, but was quickly brought out of my concentration by the muffled noises coming from our first floor. I quietly snuck out of my room and sat on the top of the staircase, peering between the hollow metal bars of the railing and wondering why my mom and nanny were fretting in front of our window.

I continued to sneak down, careful to avoid creaky steps, and crawled atop the dog-haired couch to see what was behind the window. The window was the size of the wall, allowing us to see much of what goes on outside, but for the moment, all our interest was focused on a shadowy figure at the rightmost corner of the window.

It was around wintertime, sometime between November and February (wide range, I know), so the heaters of our house were on and the windows were like sheets of ice. There, huddled sadly in the corner, was a large, black snake.

I think that was the first real snake I ever saw in my life.

In my hours within Animal Planet I had watched many shows on snakes, as well as picture books and book mentions. I had always been fascinated by them, so that night, my 10-year-old self was in a shock from seeing that creature.

My nanny grew up on a farm, where snakes are her bane. My mom didn’t like that snake sitting there and “endangering” our family and dogs, so they were wondering the best way to shoo it away. My nanny took a boot and whacked the window with it, which caused the snake to hiss and strike on the window.

I woke up the next morning wondering if it was a dream. To this day I’m still wondering, but either way it doesn’t matter. And now, with my incredible knowledge of snakes, I conclude that the window snake was a black rat snake.

Shark Bait, Hoo Ha Ha

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Sharks are terrible creatures. They’re merciless hunters that can rip apart a human within seconds, and then will happily dine on their insides. When they sight a human and smell even a slight trace of their blood, nothing can stop them from killing.

At least, that’s how most people say sharks are.

Many times when people are attacked by sharks it’s because the person provokes the shark in some way, such as when divers grab at their fins or when fishermen untangle them from their fishing nets.

Honestly, sharks are like giant, rough-skinned, thousand-toothed dogs. That swim in the ocean. If you grab a dog’s tail, chances are they will bite at you. It’s no different with sharks, the only difference is that sharks and shark attacks are more exaggerated.

A diver dressed in a black wetsuit looks remarkably like a sleek seal, so the shark might take a hunk out of a diver, thinking he’s a seal. The result is a missing limb and a story of being attacked by “a vicious shark.”

Shark attack victims don’t usually die of shark attacks though, they die of blood loss. Sharks often do hit-and-run attacks, where they bite the victim, realize their mistakes, then quickly leave the human to bleed to death.

Vending machines have killed more people than sharks have. I’m sure many people have heard of this fact, but vending machines have killed more people than sharks each year.

Well I mean, it could be because humans are dumb and try to shake the machines that have eaten their change, which could often result in the machine falling on them.

Ok, moral of the story here is, shark good, people bad.

I mean.

Shark, not bad, people… Meeeh.

Love the Cheetah

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For some reason, I’ve always loved cheetahs. Starting from around age 9 I’d watch Animal Channel for hours at a time, but it wasn’t until I was about 13 did I really notice the cheetahs. From then on I would watch cheetah documentaries and such until midnight or one in the morning, which was pretty darn late considering my usual bedtime was 9.

Firstly I think they’re beautiful. Beautiful physically and beautifully structured to get the most out of its main feature – their speed.

Long, spindly legs with powerful base muscles provide the power to charge through the fields. Unlike most felines, cheetah claws are only semi-retractable, meaning that their claws are always showing. This allows them to easily spring into action at a moment’s notice.

Their protruding chest contains a massive heart and pair of lungs for maximum oxygen intake, while their concave stomach and flexible spine allows for rapid and easy movement. A long tail acts as a rudder to stabilize quick turns and their especially long eyes views the world through a wide-angle lens.

Feline ears are usually pointed while the cheetah’s are rounded, like a bear’s. While walking or sitting, their hunched shoulders and fuzzy back almost have a bearlike appearance too. To me, their most distinctive qualities are the two black stripes that curve through their faces. The stripes start at the innermost corners of their eyes and curve down and around the nose before ending above their bottom lip. On some cheetahs the spots around the outer corners of their eyes are more distinctive, trailing down their cheeks or to the back of their necks.

Most predators hunt by simply leaping upon and overwhelming their prey. With the cheetah’s slimmer demeanor, they simply don’t have the power of a lion or leopard, so they have a trickier method instead. While chasing their prey, usually antelope, they’ll flick out a paw and trip it.

The sounds they make are ridiculous. They can purr and growl, sure, but they can also make peculiar (and adorable) chirping sounds. It almost sounds like the bark of a tiny dog, uttered through the vocal chords of a baby kitten, but through the body of a full-grown, dangerous cheetah.

Well, not very dangerous. Cheetahs are notoriously skittish and can even be too nervous to breed sometimes. In the San Diego Zoo, four of their cheetahs actually have canine companions to help calm them down and keep them happy.

People always ask me what my favourite animal is, and one of the first to pop into my mind is “cheetah,” along with “horse” and “snake.” Cheetahs have been with me longer than any other animal before, besides for dogs, and I long to interact with one in the wild one day. So far I haven’t even seen any in the few zoos I’ve been in!

(San Diego Zoo = Bucket listed)

Rabbit Birds

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The new addition to the habitats brought gobs of campers, all of them swarming around one single enclosure and squealing, yes, even the guys, “awwwwwww.”

About six baby bunnies had been born, and them and their mother “Waffles” were sharing a habitat with some frisky Indian Ringneck Parakeets. Most of the parakeets were friendly and would allow to stroking and feeding, while some others preferred to stay away.

The friendliest parakeets were the most troublesome. One particular parakeet liked to peck at my bracelets, the jewels on my shirt, my necklace, and on occasion, even my teeth. “The like to eat the plaque on your teeth,” I was told.

Eeeewwwww.

I preferred to play with the birds than the baby bunnies. Sure the bunnies were cute and all but they didn’t do much but sit on your lap and sleep. A lot of the times I was in the enclosure with my partner, he would sit on the ground and play with the bunnies. I liked to put birds on his head, and often times he wouldn’t notice until the bird hopped onto his shoulder.

The biggest, meanest bird in the enclosure was King Tut, an Alexandrine Ringneck Parakeet. Ok, he wasn’t really mean per say but he wouldn’t stand for petting whatsoever. He did like to be hand-fed bird treats, which look remarkably like human cereal.

The treats come in a variety of colours and shapes, and I believed King Tut’s was the yellow banana-shaped one. Louie preferred the smaller, rounder ones while Dewy liked any and all of them.

Or maybe it was the other way around.

I would have one parakeet on each shoulder and feed them treats one at a time. When I went to feed one bird the other would get annoyed and peck at my ear. When I went to feed him the other bird would pull at my hair. They were like little children with sharp beaks and small talons. I would leave the class with crunched up bird treats littering my shoulders.

I had always loved birds but I had never really considered having a pet bird until I spent a week with those annoying little parakeets. It’s a shame my school doesn’t allow pets.

Tang and Vulture

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My first week in the Habitats I had tried to adopt Stevie, but there were about 3 other campers looking to adopt him too. After walking up and down the hallway several times I decided on adopting Tang and Vulture. Tang was a Green Iguana and Vulture was a Black Throated Monitor.

Vulture was a huge creature, and relatively dangerous to a kid my size. Or anyone for that matter, as a whip of his tail could shatter a full-grown man’s ankle. Me and my partner, a guy from Alabama cabin that liked to wear very neon clothing, weren’t allowed in the enclosure when Vulture was on the ground or when he was feeding.

So for three out of five days we weren’t allowed into their enclosure.

There was a counselor that was like the “expert” on Vulture and said, in the large lizard world, Vulture was “puppy-dog tame.” On the two days he was around he would pick Vulture off the ground and put him on a higher platform. Then my partner and I could change the water and get their food, but had to step outside again when Vulture fed.

While Tang ate salads, Vulture had a more carnivorous diet of canned dog food and eggs. They weren’t… Really the most exciting animals of the Habitats. We could pet them and mist them with some water but it wasn’t like we could hold them or play with them. Nonetheless they were amazing creatures and some of the largest lizards I had ever seen.

The Reptile Room

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The Reptile Room was warm. Very warm, and filled with slithering reptiles and crawly lizards.

“You have to stay quiet,” hushes the counselors, “you have to stay five feet away from each other while holding a reptile, and make sure you sit down onto the ground so you don’t drop them. Make sure they stay away from your neck, too.”

On a hot day the Reptile Room could be dreaded due to its warmth. On the rare cold day campers would gratefully huddle in the warmth and perhaps peek at a snake or lizard.

During the first week of camp I “adopted” the Speckled Kingsnake. Her name was Carly, and she was sort of vicious. For the first few days she was fine. For some reason, a few days in, she would begin to squirm in my hands and try to bite me, but would actually bite herself instead.

I was scared for her, I really was. I see pictures on the internet of snakes eating themselves and it genuinely scared me. I quickly put Carly back in her enclosure and worry. I would stand there and watch her watch me and just worry. She was a wild-caught, which may be the root of her frightening quirks.

That’s when I began to take Legolas out, and despite what everyone said about him, he was tame. After my trauma with Carly I would sit on the dirty ground with Legolas puffing in my hands and watch the other campers interact with their reptiles.

Most of the campers sit with their friends and choose compatible snakes. Other people, like me, choose solitary snakes and have to sit alone.

During the last week of camp I adopted a Prairie Kingsnake, named Molly. She was tamer than Carly but was still slightly twitchy. I would clean her enclosure, replace her water, then take her out and hold her for about 10 minutes before switching to either Legolas or a Leopard Gecko.

My best friend had become infatuated with Leopard Geckos, affectionally calling them Geckard Lepos, and would take out two at a time and let them sit on his chest. The room was warm and I always felt a slight worry that he would fall asleep and roll over the Geckos. He never did though.

Right next to the Reptile Room was the Small Animal Room. Whose great idea was that? And right next to the Small Animal Room was the Cat Room. Whose great idea was that?

The Creepy Crawlies

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One of the least appreciated rooms at our camp was the Creepy Crawly Room, located on the second floor of the barn and requires a few twists and turns down an eerie hallway to reach.

As the name states, creepy crawlies reside in the Creepy Crawly Room. Creepy crawlies include tarantulas, cockroaches, frogs, newts, and scorpions.

Many times a week my friends and I would try our luck and see if there was a counselor monitoring the Creepy Crawly Room. Perhaps one out of five visits would be successful, the other times we would leave disappointed and roam the habitats and jungle instead.

On the days where there was a counselor we were allowed to hold the roaches, tarantulas, etc. Most of my friends would cower at the entrance of the room but I would always head straight to the cockroach habitat.

These weren’t your average pest cockroaches. They were tamer, you could say, and I could easily just reach into the glass tank and pull out a roach. People called me weird but man they were cute.

My best friend loves tarantulas, so he would always go for the little tarantula enclosures first. You couldn’t play with cockroaches or tarantulas, but there was a strange charm in simply holding an arthropod in your hand and watching them move. “They’re scary!” people would shriek, “they have fangs and poison!”

Well, dogs could easily rip a person’s throat out, yet they aren’t avoided as avidly. We fear the unknown, and most people have no experience with arthropods. Let a scorpion sit on your hand for a minute and you’ll realize they really have no intention to harm anyone.

A few weeks ago a tarantula was found in our school’s courtyard. My brother and I immediately went to investigate and put him in a safer spot away from screaming girls and stomping feet. “Do you think it was the way you two were raised?” inquires a teacher, fascinated by our lack of fear. “No,” I reply, “definitely not.


(This is Joey)

I ended up going back and taking the tarantula with me to class. I named him Joey and then released him later that day upon learning that he only had a few more weeks to live. Male tarantulas live much shorter lives than females do.

I hope people will appreciate, or at least not fear, creatures like tarantulas and scorpions, because they really mean us no harm.