Don’t Ask Just Read By Danielle Faas
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I dedicate this book to my family. Thanks for showing your support and love.
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Table of Contents My Name!..........................................................................................................................4 Locker Blues!.....................................................................................................................5 An Average Cross-Country Meet!......................................................................................6 Colton Daniel Faas!...........................................................................................................7 My Neighborhood!.............................................................................................................8 Clean Up Time!..................................................................................................................9 Checkers!.........................................................................................................................10 Life in Wisconsin!.............................................................................................................11 A Special Holiday!............................................................................................................12 Special Family Members!.................................................................................................13
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My Name
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In Hebrew Danielle means God is my judge. In the Faas family it means oldest
and coolest, according to me anyway. My name is like the color purple. It is imaginative and spunky. My name was given to me after my father’s middle name, Daniel. To my family my name is Danielle and to my friend’s, Dani. The name Danielle sounds smooth and rolling. It leaves a round feeling after saying it. My name could have been Molly or Samantha, but my parents chose Danielle. Danielle is pronounced Daniela in Spanish. The name Danielle, when said, gives off a smooth roll of the tongue. If I could pick a different name it might be Amber, Nicole, or maybe even Priscilla. All those names are great and all, but I am a Danielle and always will be. When I think of the name Danielle I think of being spontaneous and smashing. The name Danielle is like an orange in many ways. It doesn’t rhyme well with other words and it may be a little too sour or sweet at times. If you were to ask my friends what the name Danielle means they may say crazy, social, and slightly psychotic when given caffeinated beverages. The name Danielle strongly reflects my personality. It shows that I am a Danielle. I am Danielle the dancing, dreaming, deranged dinosaur. The name Danielle is for the creative and the curly. The name Danielle shapes and individualizes my personality making me who I am today.
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Locker Blues
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It was the first week of the sixth grade and I was having a hard time adjusting. I
couldn’t find my classes, my locker wouldn’t open for me, and the eighth graders were huge, scary monsters. They were at least twelve feet tall, with razor sharp teeth. I was terrified. I walked around the halls avoiding the seventh and eighth graders like a ninja. At my locker I would twist and turn the lock with no success, eventually I just had my locker neighbor do it for me. It went on like that for the first few days until one day when I was at my locker and the clock was ticking off the seconds until the bell rang, a stray eighth grader walked by. She must have noticed me fiddling with my lock because she offered me a hand. I shyly accepted and I got my locker opened for me. I then realized that not all of the eighth graders were monsters. The next morning I realized I had been twisting the lock the wrong way. I should have been turning right when I was twisting left and I should have been twisting left when I was turning right. I learned I shouldn’t stereotype people if I don’t know them. That act of kindness made me want to help sixth graders when I was a seventh and eighth grade. I hope I can help freshman and other people when that need help at school.
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An Average Cross-Country Meet
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It’s one hour before the meet and I have to go to the bathroom, again. This would
be the fifth time in the last hour. Now there’s thirty minutes until the meet. I start the warm ups with the team. I slog with the team around the course for twenty-five minutes and then head to the start of the race. My blood is rushing and my adrenaline is higher than the Empire State Building. We do butt kicks, high knees, and other pre-race warmups. We sprint out and do our team cheer. My stomach feels like a billion feathers are tickling it. We sprint back. I realize I have to go to the bathroom again, when suddenly it’s to late and the gun is going off. I’m sprinting, sprinting, and sprinting, and then I reach a steady pace. I look ahead and try to keep a steady breathing pace. I take a few turns here and there. I pass a few people and even less pass me. I see uneven ground and I think “Hey I could trip right here,” but somehow I run on. We enter a wooded area and I pick up the pace knowing the finish is 800 meters away. I emerge from the woods. 400 meters left. The parents, coaches, and teammates are cheering. I see the finish line. I go into a sprint. I pass the finish line. I think to myself “ Why do I do this, I should quit, I need water,”. I then run around cheering on my teammates and other runners.
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Colton Daniel Faas
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I remember being told that I had a baby brother. I didn’t really understand what
that meant at the time, but I was still very happy. It was Thanksgiving of 2001, when my little brother was born. He was named Colton Daniel Faas. I remember going to the hospital and seeing familiar and unfamiliar faces visit the new arrival, giving him balloons and baboon stuffed animals. He was the turkey of the family. When he was brought home I was so excited to play with him, until I found out all babies did were make random noises and facial expressions, eat, poop, and cry. Though, I was still persistent to help out. If I was asked to get get a toy or diaper, I would proudly go get it for my mom. Watching him get bigger and bigger was so much fun. I remember wondering what he would be like when he was my age. Would he be troublesome, a bookworm, or a athlete? I couldn’t wait till he would grow up. When he was old enough to play he didn’t want to play barbies, he wanted to play with tractors, not baby dolls. This frustrated me. Why couldn’t he play what I wanted to play, after all I was older. He wasn’t at all what I expected, he was a boy. Not a girl, who would play with dolls, a boy, but I love him the same. Today I still wonder what he will be like when he is older. Who will he be.
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My Neighborhood
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My neighborhood is small and cozy. It seems like when my family and I first
moved here a lot of older couples lived in the neighborhood, but now those friendly faces are moving out and being replaced by younger families. As these new families move in, the neighborhood loses a familiar face and welcomes a new and unfamiliar one. I believe this is like a cycle. Once the familiar people leave us, strangers infiltrate our neighborhood. Later these strangers become familiar and the cycle continues. Most of the houses in my neighborhood consist of normal and ordinary colors. Some of these colors include white, brown, red, and blue. There are also the highly colorful houses that scream beautiful. The sun supplies ample amount of sunlight making us a slushy, wet mess on nice winter days. On hot summer days the sun gives a uncomfortable, humid, and damp feel to it, but the sky is clear like glass. In my neighborhood there are about six solid neighbors that I know. The other majority are new or is someone I have never or barely spoken to. The houses in my neighborhood have beautiful flowerbeds around or in the front of their houses. The different array of colors attract young families like bees to flowers. The houses in my neighborhood are mostly small with the occasional big house. My neighborhood is quiet and peaceful. Occasionally the faint sound of a siren can be heard. The sound of birds chirping is all to familiar to the people in my neighborhood.
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Clean Up Time
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The clock read seven o’clock when I woke up. I started to panic that I would be
late for school. My mom noticed me freaking out and assured me it was a snow day. I then fell into a deep sleep. I woke to a clean and immaculate house, but it was not to stay this way. My brother and I opened closets and cupboards, scavenging for food. Spilling chips here and there. We then headed to living room spilling more food and turning everything upside down. The decorative pillows on the ground, the footrest upside down, and various dishes laying around. After lunch the kitchen was the aftermath of a tornado. There was juice spilled on the counters, crumbs on the table, and loads of dishes all over the place. My room was a mess, but then again when isn’t it. Before we knew it mom was home, and the house was still a mess. When she entered the house and surveyed her surroundings, she was furious. She ordered Colton and I to gather all the stray dishes. I then went into the living room and tidied up, putting pillows back into place and the footstool right side up. Colton started vacuuming the house. Colton and I then rinsed, shshshshhsh, and scrubbed, chchchchchch, the dishes and put them into the dishwasher. I took a wetted dishrag and cleaned the juice off the counter and the crumbs off the table. Colton and I apologized to mom and hoped for forgiveness. I was and am sorry mom and she forgave and forgives me.
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Checkers
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When I was younger I liked to play with barbies and checkers. When I would visit
my grandparents, my grandpa and I would always play checkers. Checkers, the game where red is Spiderman and black is Venom, Spiderman’s nemesis. Some games I was as focused as a hawk and others I was scatterbrained. I would try so hard to win, but my grandpa always had the upper-hand. There were times where it was a close call, where I had almost won. When I got sick of losing, I played checkers with my grandma. When I got sick of winning, I would go play with my grandpa. I would always be trying to anticipate his next move. Most times he would do what I did not want him to. This made me try even harder. Grandpa and I would play checkers for so long my head would ache and I would have to take a break. I would later begin to play again and again and also lose again. The practice must have paid off because one day I won. I felt so accomplished that I had won. I was as giddy as a dog with a bone. I had finally beaten the professional checkers player. He called for a rematch, but I refused. In our next face offs I would lose, leading me to wonder did he let me win? I truly think I fairly won. Either way it wouldn’t be the last time, that’s for sure.
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Life in Wisconsin Cold Snow Sledding Hot Chocolate Marshmallows Marsh-Miller Lake Camping Summer Fall Slip Ice Snow
Cheese Dairy Ice-Cream June Dairy Days Cows Bovine Farms Barns Red Color Rainbows Leprechauns Small Mice
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A Special Holiday
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During my freshmen year at West Salem High School, I took a trip to Orlando,
Florida with the West Salem Marching Band. It was the week of Thanksgiving break. We left on a Saturday and returned the next sunday. We spent the first day and a half on a coach bus. We rolled into Cocoa Beach around the middle of the day. The sun was shining and the weather was beautiful. Fast forward a few days and it was the day before Thanksgiving. I was with Alexa, Sophie, Taylor, Haley and Morgan. I called my family continuously, wondering how they were doing and if they had shot any deer. We went to Disney’s Animal Kingdom and spent the day going on many rides, including Kali River Rapids and Expedition Everest. The first ride we went on was the Kali River Rapids. After the first time, one or two of us were soaked. To be fair we decided that we would go on until each of us got equally soaked. Our group went about eight to ten times. Afterwards we were all soaked to the bone in water. It was great. We were extremely wet for a majority of the day. By lunch time we were all still soggy as marathon runners and not to mention hungry. We decided on eating at the Rainforest Cafe. There were gorillas that pounded their chests and colorful fish. The thunder boomed and clapped loudly in the background. After a accidental drink spill and the breaking of flimsy kid menu crayons, we went on more rides. To celebrate Thanksgiving I called my family and bought a huge, juicy turkey leg to make up for a missed meal.
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Special Family Members Dawn Clean, Magnificent Coordinating, Planning, Running Faithful, Brave, Agreeable, Lively Mom
Colton Hyper, Happy Catching, Gaming, Caring Emotional, Proud, Silly, Gentle Brother
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