Week 2: Free Writing

Many of you have probably read a blog pertaining to someone's love of a sport and how it got brought into their life. Therefore, I feel that I should put my two cents in on my love for basketball. Basketball has always been in my family, however it really took off when my dad and uncle decided to play it in high school. They ended up breaking all the records at Cory-Rawson, and then furthered their athletic careers at Bowling Green State University. There, they also made a name for themselves, and after graduating my uncle was actually drafted in the 6th round of the NBA by the Houston Rockets. However, he chose his family over a professional career, which in my opinion was the right choice. Many years later, the word got around that my parents were having another baby Faine. People automatically expected me to be born with these amazing basketball skills, however that was not true. Sure, I had some ball skill, but I was nearly as talented as my father had been. And what made it even harder was the expectations from all of those who knew the "Faine" name. As I began to age, I started to get more and more attached to basketball, and realized why my dad loved it so much. I realized that it's not just a sport, it's a way to show that you're made of greatness, and it's also an outlet for any anger or frustration you might be feeling in your life. Another reason I play the sport, is because it's a way to keep my dad in the game. He was diagnosed with MS in 2006, therefore he can no longer play basketball, let alone move like he used to. So as you can see, I don't just play the sport for me, I play it for my dad, because I know how much he loves the sport. Although I can't give him the ability to play again, I can give him the chance to stay involved in the sport he has loved for so many years. 

Week 2: Community

I've never had the opportunity to be apart of a community other than my own, small town community. Once I decided to attend Defiance College that all changed. I was thrown into an entirely different environment, which was intimidating at first. However, after spending one semester here in Defiance, I can now say that I am apart of an amazing community, both in the college and the city itself. 

Before I decided to go off to college, "community" was simply the people that lived in the same town as me, but now it has an entirely different meaning. "Community" now means having the same interests and goals as those around you, and having a feeling of fellowship with those around you. In other words, it's like being apart of one big family that's trying to make the city a better place. Although I have only been a part of the Defiance College community for one semester, I feel like I've been here my whole life. This community took me in as their own, and made me feel as if I were at home. 

There are many reasons as to why I think Defiance has a good community. For example, there are many organizations both at the college and throughout the town that put forth their time and efforts to make the city a better place. In the 6 months that I have been here, I, along with many others, have helped pick up litter along the highway, volunteered for the Special Olympics, walked dogs at the humane society, and stuffed backpacks full of food for the poor. These may not seem like huge changes to some people, but by volunteering to do these small activities, we are making this community better one step at a time. Although it seems that I have volunteered for a lot, there are many other organizations that I have not been apart of that also help make our community a kinder place. For example, there's a Goodwill store for those who are low on money, and an organization called "Opp Shop" at the Defiance College that lends out professional clothing for those who cannot afford it. These small gestures help the less fortunate have the opportunity to add to our community by attempting to get a job.
Altogether, by choosing to further my education at Defiance College, I have found out what the true meaning of "community" is. It means joining forces with those around you, and putting your efforts towards helping others and making a city or town a better place to live. By doing these simple things, we can make our towns a nicer, kinder place to live.

Week 1: Free Writing

"You never know what you have until it's gone." I've heard this saying numerous times without realizing its importance, but now it speaks volumes to me. At the beginning of this month, I lost the only grandpa I had ever had. I thought losing him was the worst part, but seeing my mom and grandma in pain made it even worse than it already was. As if that wasn't enough, I also lost my grandma Faine, who was a single parent to four sons, including my dad. Now, you may think that this blog entry is going to be rather sad and depressing, but that is not my goal. It's just come to my realization that I have lost two very important people to me, and I wanted to take this time to properly thank them both for all that they have done. Therefore, thank you Grandpa. Not only for being a great husband to my grandma and a great father to my mom, but for taking the role as my only grandfather, and filling it perfectly. You have taught me everything I know about cars, and because of that I don't get nervous if my car gets stuck in the snow, or if random lights start flashing on my dashboard. You have also taught me how to properly get milk out of my cereal bowl without spilling it all over me, and yes, I still use the "scooping technique" to this day. I also wanted to say thank you for showing me how a marriage should really be. You loved Grandma unconditionally, even when Alzheimer's crept into your life, and because of you I know what real love looks like. I would also like to take this time to thank my grandma as well. Thank you for always making me laugh, and for telling me I have a, "cute figure," even on the days that I'm feeling a little chunky. You introduced me to the world of art, and then proceeded to teach me everything you knew about it. And I also can't thank you enough for teaching me that it's okay to be a single, independent, woman.  Because of you, I know what the proper meaning of "necking" is, and I also know nearly every story about our family, even if you tended to repeat them once or twice. Both my grandma and my grandpa have taught me many things throughout my life, while also making unforgettable memories with me. It hurts that they are not here to help me get through this heartache, but I know they are both in a much better place now. I will finish this entry off with rather simply; I love and miss you both, and can't wait to see you two once again.

Week 1: Waking Up in Jail

Waking up in a jail cell was definitely not how I planned to spend my Sunday morning. As I attempted to rub the grogginess out of my eyes, I tried to remember what had happened the night before. However, nothing came to mind. I started to feel the panic creeping up on me. "Hello?!" I screamed as I searched the room for a guard of some sort. I started to pace next to the makeshift bench they call a "bed." What in the world happened last night? How did I end up in jail?! Still in disbelief, I stuffed my hands in my pocket and felt something round with shard edges prick my finger. I pulled the mysterious object out, and realized it was the cap to a Smirnoff bottle. "That's odd..." I mumbled to myself. I could have swore I didn't drink last night, and I definitely didn't feel hungover, just extremely tired. I shoved my hand in my jacket pocket to look for any other clues. As I pulled my hand out I looked at my findings; a necklace, a pack of tissues, a Taco Bell receipt, and a cap to a Nyquil bottle. Like a giant wave, the previous night came rushing back to me. I had went out with my friends to be the DD for the night, since I had a cold and wasn't feeling too well. That explains the tissues. Deborah, one of the girls I had gone out with, gave me her necklace because it kept getting caught in her hair and pulling it. After hours of watching my friends drink themselves away I told them it was time to go, but they insisted that we go get some Taco Bell before I took them back. I looked at the receipt and not to my amazement, the price totaled about $30...man, they can eat. After returning everyone home safely, I remember my gas light turning on, but silly me thought I had enough gas to make the drive back to my dorm room. About 5 miles away from my campus, I ran out of gas. It was way too cold for me to walk, plus I already had a cold and was feeling pretty awful myself. I reached in the backseat for my Nyquil bottle and took a big swig of it to help me sleep through my awful cough. I remember waking up to a police officer tapping on my window and shining a light in on me. As I rolled down my window, the smell of the alcohol Deborah had spilled in my car came rolling out, and of course the officer smelled it. He asked me to step out of the car and take a Breathalyzer test, which I gladly said yes to since I had not been drinking. However, to my amazement the officer said my alcohol level was higher than it should have been, which I'm assuming is due to the alcohol that Nyquil contains. The officer could tell I was not extremely impaired or anything. Therefore, I remember him saying he was taking me back to the station just for precaution reasons. I laughed to myself as I looked at the Nyquil cap. Who knew trying to cure your cold could get you arrested?