Anyone who knows me, understands that I try and find adventure and humor in being blind. My latest endeavor is to take my love of humor and adventure and combine it with my passion for basketball. I have entered a video into a contest to win Pacer season tickets in Roy Hibbert’s Area 55.

The Pacers are a team poised to go from just making the playoffs, to being a solid team in the Eastern conference. Area 55 is the craziest section during Pacer games; it is similar to going to a college hoops game if you sit in that section. It is also nicely located for a person who is blind to access concessions, the bathroom and exit the building.

So please take some time and vote for me at the provided link below! Or, at least I hope you enjoy my video. Thanks for reading and voting! Also, voting closes tomorrow, Thursday, June 16. I am the 9th participant on the 9th page! Shawn Dobbs!

http://www.pacersarea55.com/videos2011_9.php

Yesterday I embarked on an unexpected adventure. My friend who was supposed to go with me to the Pacer game could not attend. Not wanting to miss a good game, I decided to go by myself. No big deal right? Well, there are a lot of potential moments of disaster for a blind person going to a stadium by oneself. I had no idea whether I would be successful in making it to the game and back home.  After all, there were a lot of questions that I did not have answers for.  Would the cab drop me off in the right place?  How would I get into Conseco Field House?  Would someone help me find my seat?  Would it be easy for me to get food and a drink?  How would I find the restroom?  Would someone be willing to guide me from my seat to a location where I could catch a taxi after the game? I caught a cab from my home in Fountain Square and headed downtown.  The cost of the cab was a bit more expensive than I felt it should have been, but at least the driver walked me up to a door and found a security guy who took me to a customer service desk. The lady at the desk sent out a call to get some assistance for me. While I waited she attempted to talk Pacer basketball with me, but she really knew very little about the team. No matter, I applaud her effort. A guy named Garth showed up and took me by a concession stand on my way to my seat. I really did not need to go by the concession stand; my season tickets are in the club level so someone would have taken my order, but this way I was assured of getting my traditional popcorn and coke. After Garth helped me find my seat, I began thinking about my dad and all the games that we attended together over the years. It was kind of strange being there alone. My seats are in the crazy section, Roy Hibert’s area 55. Here the fans rob chants from IU students and come up with a few original ones. When a foreign player went to the free throw line everyone would chant USA! USA! Overpaid! and DC is better! were other amusing sayings yelled by the fans. In my section, most people stand throughout the game and it is like a college atmosphere which is very refreshing since NBA games can be awfully sterile sometimes. I felt at home once the game tipped off. The Pacers jumped out to an early eight point lead and held a slim three point lead at the half. At half time I boldly walked out of my row and a fan came up and showed me where the bathroom was. I came back and found my seat on my own. During the third quarter the Hornets made a run and took the lead. A co-worker saw me and came by. He and his wife gave me a ride home, plus he tracked down a battery since my battery had run down in my walkman. The fourth quarter saw the teams go back and forth. Roy Hibert had another bad game. He was 1/10 from the floor. He had three rebounds and two turn overs during crunch time. The Hornets scored a basket from the top of the key with 3.9 seconds to go giving them a one point lead. The Pacers advanced the ball after calling a time out. Danny Granger put up a three that rolled off the rim but Mike Dunleavy tipped the ball in at the horn giving the Pacers a one point win! While going to games by myself is not ideal, it was good to know that I can do it.  The Pacer staff was helpful and had I not gotten a ride home, Garth would have made sure I caught a cab. The Pacers are an improved team this year, likely making the playoffs for the first time in three seasons. It is exciting to go to the games and partake in the fun and craziness in area 55. Another successful adventure in the books! Oh yeah, go Pacers!!!!

It was Labor Day weekend.  The sun was shining and the weather was perfect.  It was going to be an incredible day!  Excitedly a friend and I packed a cooler with food and drinks as we prepared to leave and begin our pilgrimage to Notre Dame Stadium.

My hope, was that this day would mark the beginning of a football season of redemption.  Perhaps Notre Dame could make a bowl game in Brian Kelly’s first year.  Maybe the Indiana Hoosiers could score enough points, since they can’t play defense, to make a low level bowl game.  I hoped that the Colts could put together a strong regular season and make a deep run into the NFL playoffs.

It appeared like it was going to be a great football season.  IU had won their first game.  My friend Kari and I witnessed Notre Dame defeat Purdue the Saturday of Labor Day weekend.  My college teams had all gotten off to a good start.

The following weekend the Colts lost to the Houston Texans.  Soon the Colts roster would be decimated with injuries.  Indiana would alternate between playing uninspired games against mediocre opponents or lose in the last second to nationally ranked teams.  Notre Dame’s season has been defined by injuries, difficult losses and the tragic death of a student videotaping a practice.  It would be an understatement in saying that this is not the football season that I was hoping for.

Yet, this weekend I will brave the elements, along with a co-worker and his father, to make one final trip to gaze at Touchdown Jesus, sit in the stadium that Newt Rockne built and cheer Notre Dame on to do the impossible, beat the top ten ranked Utah Utes.

The weather forecast for Saturday is for rain with high temperatures in the 40’s.  It will be damp and chilly.  The possibility exists that Notre Dame will be unable to remain competitive for the entire game, making it feel all the more cold and uncomfortable.  An obvious question that some people have asked me is why?  “Surely,” they say, “you have better things to do on a Saturday than traveling three hours in bad weather to watch Notre Dame likely get blown out by Utah.”  Another question that I find myself often being asked is why, as a blind person, do you bother going to so many sporting events in the first place?

The answers to these questions are simple.  Obviously when you go to a sporting event your purpose in attending is to cheer on your favorite team.  As comfortable as a person might be watching the big game on their couch, enjoying all of the amenities of home, there is nothing better than getting caught up in the atmosphere and excitement of witnessing something live and in person.  Whether you are a fan of Notre Dame or not, or whether you even care about college football, most people acknowledge that experiencing Notre Dame on game day is a unique opportunity.  The rich tradition coupled with the interaction between the team and the student body makes it a special place.  Besides, a real fan cheers on their team regardless of the weather or the type of season they are having.

Whether a person can see or not is not important when attending a ball game.  All 80,000 people in the stadium on Saturday will share the same identity; simply that everyone is a fan of Notre Dame.  When a player is unexpectedly not on the field, or there is a controversial call, a person who is blind and has a radio, suddenly becomes the most important person in their section.  Everyone wants the information that I am getting from the radio broadcast.  Attending a game is not so much about who wins or loses; instead, it is about the shared experience that you have with other fans.

On Saturday morning I will dress in layers and make the long trip up to South Bend.  All the while I will be hoping for the impossible, that Notre Dame can play a near perfect game and somehow upset Utah.  Crazy?  Maybe, but never count out a team that has the luck of the Irish!

Welcome back to the Dobbs Blog!

It has been a while since I have written an entry, but I am now comfortable with my added responsibilities here at work and I am excited to start blogging again!  Today I would like to share with you a horrifying and frightening adventure of my trip to Nechropolis, City of Darkness, one of the top 25 haunted houses in the country located here in Indianapolis.

As a general rule, I don’t really celebrate Halloween.  I don’t have any children and I never have candy on Halloween to hand out to trick or treaters.  Last Friday night though, I had nothing to do so a couple of friends and I decided to celebrate Halloween by going to the best known haunted house in Indianapolis.

After purchasing our tickets we stood in a long line waiting to enter the outer chamber.  It was cold and I was lamenting the fact that I did not wear a jacket.  I continued complaining to myself how cold it was when suddenly I quit caring about the cool temperatures.  Something was standing near me.  It was a random monster who had walked up.  He made a groaning sound and when he walked he dragged one leg behind him.  He reminded me of a monster from the old Scooby-Doo cartoons.  He made his groaning sound again.  I took a step and he followed me, continuing to violate my personal space.  I was not scared, but it was a bit unnerving!  He showed me his mask and I discovered that this creature also had some really crazy hair.

Not long after another strange monster-like creature began mingling with the crowd.  This guy wore a top hat.  He wanted to know if I wanted to see his teeth and I quickly declined this frightening invitation.

Just before we entered the outer chamber, a final monster made its way through the crowd.  This monster had red eyes and a set of real crazy horns.  He also came equipped with sound effects.  He sounded like the real deal, an angry monster bent on causing destruction.  I was impressed.

Once we entered the outer chamber my friends and I encountered a witch.  She yelled at us to be quiet and stand on a set of footprints.  She sternly gave us the rules we were to abide by in our journey through the haunted house.  After she concluded her instructions we walked down some stairs into the dark haunted underworld.

Our plan was to walk through three separate haunted experiences.  There was a house, a hotel and a haunted underground mausoleum.  I was hoping to be able to completely distinguish each haunted place and describe what I encountered in great detail.  Unfortunately, there was so much going on and so many things to see that it all became a blur.  There are several highlights though, that I would like to share from my frightening journey.

As we walked through the first haunted house there was loud heavy metal music playing.  It was deafening!  People kept jumping out of things and there were grave stones everywhere.  It seemed like we were traveling through a maze.  I began walking cautiously when we approached a corner because I anticipated things would jump out at us.  I was not disappointed!  My friend who was in front of me kept jumping and trying to run away when various creatures would try scaring her.  Somehow I ended up leading my friends through the haunted house.  A scary guy jumped out at me, saw I was blind and quickly jumped back; his screams of horror silenced by the surprise of a blind guy leading sighted people through the haunted maze.

The second haunted place was the hotel.  The music that was playing attempted to create a sense of anxiety.  You could hear the sound of babies crying and the monsters in this hotel were at their frightening best.  As we journeyed along my friend began yelling out my name.  About two minutes later I felt something on my left shoulder.  Suddenly a voice growled: “Where are you going Shawn?”  I jumped!  I had successfully been scared in a haunted house.  I began laughing hysterically as we pressed on into the darkness.

Throughout the remainder of our time there were several more monsters, strange creatures and frightening experiences.  As we walked back to our car an unexpected thing happened.  Without any warning, a guy with a chain saw came out of the darkness and ran at us!  We screamed and tried running the other direction.  As we slowed down he had somehow caught up with us and I heard a chain saw roaring straight at us again!  That was a great final touch because even though you expect that kind of thing to happen in a horror movie, I did not anticipate that my friends and I would encounter a chain saw wielding mad man after leaving the haunted house.

Excluding a haunted hay ride that I went on a few years ago, I had not been to a haunted house since college.  I had decided that my blindness would take all the fun out of going through a haunted house as most of the scare tactics are visual in nature.  I was pleasantly surprised to discover that my blindness did not cause me to have any less of an enjoyable experience than my friends who are sighted.  It was truly a fantastic evening and I had a frighteningly good time!

In July, an opportunity became available for me to expand my job responsibilities.  Besides serving as the Adjustment Counselor in the rehab center, I now also work as the Vocational Readiness Instructor.  This new position will provide me with the chance to grow professionally along with allowing me to pursue my passion of equipping clients to be successful in transitioning into school or the workforce.  For the time being, I feel it is necessary for me to focus all my attention on adjusting to my new job responsibilities and insuring that I am providing quality services to the rehab center clients.  Therefore, I have decided to that it would be in my best interest to at least temporarily stop writing the Dobbs Blog.

I would like to thank Bosma for providing me with the opportunity to share my life and experiences through the Dobbs Blog.  I hope you have enjoyed reading about my adventures as much as I have enjoyed sharing them with you.  I still hope to contribute a blog posting from time to time and perhaps the opportunity will present itself for me to blog more regularly in the future.  If there is one theme that has been present in all that I have written it is that life is truly an adventure.  My hope is that everyone who has read my blog will live life to the fullest!

I read a study recently that said 98% of college students have a cell phone.  Of  that 98% the majority of students either had an iPhone, Blackberry or other  windows mobile device.  This is just another example of how America is placing its trust in mobile technology.  And why not?  You can plan your day, search for information, watch TV, communicate in a variety of ways with other people; it is easy to rely on your iPhone, Blackberry or smart phone to help you navigate through the busyness of life.  Last week, however, I had an experience that caused me to stop and question the degree that I am willing to trust my beloved iPhone.

I woke up last Friday morning with the idea that it would be fun to go fishing.  I called a couple of buddies of mine and we decided that we would do a little night fishing since the temperatures during the day were hovering around 90 degrees.  I could not wait for the work day to end so we could pick up my boat and get out on a lake.

As we were driving over to Geist, we all commented on how sunny it was.  I proudly proclaimed to my friends that the weather app on my iPhone said that there was only a remote possibility of rain.  There was no doubt in our minds that we would get a lot of quality fishing in before midnight.

Once at the reservoir we drove to the boat ramp and put the boat in the water.  We left the motors on shore opting instead to paddle around the lake.  Soon we were out in the middle of Geist catching a lot of seaweed instead of fish.  It was very enjoyable just hanging out drinking a few beers and hoping that the fish would soon start biting.

About 45 minutes into our fishing expedition one of my friends made the comment that it looked like it was going to rain.

“Probably storm,” my other buddy chimed in.

“That’s ridiculous!  The sun is still out,” I replied.  “Besides, the iPhone doesn’t lie!”

“Dude I’m telling you—”

“Whatever,” I interrupted.

We continued bantering back and forth about the weather.  I could still feel the sunshine on my face while they claimed a huge storm would be blowing in.

Finally, I asked my friend what his Blackberry said about the weather.  He looked up the weather and told us that we were under a severe thunder storm watch.  I laughed and told him once again that he was wrong.  Suddenly the sun disappeared behind a huge cloud, the temperature dropped and I heard the unmistakable rumble of thunder.

As my companions began gloating we heard the unmistakable sound of the emergency siren.  A severe thunder storm was bearing down on Geist Reservoir!  We debated whether we could make it back to shore before the wind and rain caught up with us.  This isn’t good, I thought to myself as we started feverishly paddling toward the boat ramp.

We paused briefly under a bridge where my friend began wondering out loud if we should stay under the shelter of the bridge instead of making a final push to shore.  As the boat began pitching wildly with the ever increasing size of the waves I told my friend that while riding out the storm on the lake would be interesting and entertaining, it seemed like the smart thing to do was to dock the boat and take cover in the truck.

The storm began growing in intensity as we resumed paddling into a persistent and stiff wind.  The sky began spitting rain and it seemed like the thunder was mocking us angrily proclaiming that the storm would overtake us before we would be able to dock the boat.

After what seemed like an eternity we finally reached the dock.  We quickly tied the boat off, grabbed our beer and sprinted for the truck.  Small-sized hail began pelting us as we ran.  Wet and out of breath we finally reached the truck which seemed to be our best option for shelter to ride out the storm.

An hour later the storm subsided and we went back to the lake to retrieve the boat and our fishing gear.  Hungry and looking quite disheveled, we made our way to a nearby restaurant for food and the chance to dry off.

As I sat there eating an order of wings it occurred to me that it is better to put your trust in people as opposed to technology.  I then started wondering since my friend’s Blackberry seemed to do a better job of predicting the weather; maybe it is time for me to trade in my iPhone?

For years I have been searching for a hobby.  Sure, I work out and do some writing, but these activities are more a reflection of who I am as a person, and not interests that I have cultivated over time.  Several times I have attempted to pick up and play the guitar.  A few days later I put the guitar back in its case and shove it into the corner of a closet.  Last year I finally sold my guitar, putting an end to this potential hobby once and for all.  Finally, after years of searching, my quest for a meaningful pastime is over.

It all started last winter.  I was traveling in Southern California and Mexico with some friends.  A buddy of mine and I were talking one day, and we thought that it would be fun to try brewing our own beer.  Life got busy for us both, and the idea was set aside.  One day, about a month ago, we decided that if we were ever going to make our idea a reality, we needed to stop talking about it and actually do something.  After some internet research, we drove across town to a well-known brewing supply store.

There is a lot to think about when it comes to brewing beer.  You have to decide what kind of beer you want to make, how much money you are willing to invest, what type of equipment you will use, whether you have adequate storage space and if you are willing to commit to the necessary time that is required for crafting beer.  The number of beer kits we had to choose from was overwhelming.  There were Belgian ales, wheat beers, lagers, stouts and porters.  After some consideration we decided to do something basic and purchased the beer kit for making Indian pale ale. (India pale ale is a beer that ranges from amber to copper in color.  It is usually associated with a medium level of alcohol content.  Depending on how the Indian pale ale is brewed it may have a bitter taste, although it is possible to accentuate the malt or hops.) We purchased a beer kit and much of the necessary equipment.  We looked around and found other things we would need, like a 40-quart pot at a restaurant supply store for half the cost.

A little later than expected, on the evening of May 10, we began the brewing process.  The most important thing to keep in mind when making beer is to give yourself permission to become overly neurotic about cleanliness.  Everything has to be thoroughly sanitized.  Once everything was cleaned we boiled and steeped the grains.  After the grains cooled, we added the malt and hops.  We brought the mixture to an hour-long boil.  Then we quickly cooled the beer down to the designated temperature.  Using a hydrometer, we checked the gravity of the beer.  The alcohol content of our Indian pale ale would be approximately 5.5%.  We then poured the beer into a five gallon bucket with an airlock.  This would allow the fermentation process to begin.

Six days later it was time to transfer the beer into a new carboy.  We checked on YouTube to review the process for siphoning beer into a new container.  We were pleased to note that our concoction was an orange gold color just like the beer on the video.  Once we sterilized our equipment again, we began the siphoning process, taking care to reduce splashing which would increase the level of carbon dioxide.  When the beer was safely in its new fermenter, we ended up storing it in my entry closet to keep it out of the way and to insure that the beer could ferment at a consistent temperature.

Saturday, May 29 was bottling day!  The bottling process is similar to what we had done two weeks earlier when we transferred the beer.  Before we bottled our beer, it was time to add sugar which we boiled down.  As we bottled the home brew, we were able to take a taste.  The beer was not yet carbonated, but it had a very pleasant taste.  Outside of some minor mishaps with the bottle capper, we ended up bottling two cases of beer.  We plan to drink the beer in a week, although it is good to let the beer age up to a month.

One of the things that I learned during this process is that a person who is blind could not do this without sighted assistance.  There are a lot of measurements that need to be precise, and it is important to be able to determine the color of your beer.  The color of the beer you are brewing is very important.  Using video from YouTube we were able to insure that our Indian pale ale was the appropriate color.  A discolored beer would indicate unwanted irregularities in the brewing process such as old hops or unclean equipment. Also, sight comes in handy when making sure you don’t get unwanted sediment in your Indian pale ale.

Besides, sharing the brewing process with others is a great excuse to hang out and have some laughs. Hopefully our beer will turn out to be drinkable.  Even if it is not, we have plans to make a second batch of beer that includes our own unique twist.  Whether we ever become brewmeisters is not important, I am just excited that I found a challenging hobby that also calls for a degree of creativity.

As a person who is blind, navigating the world of internet dating can be challenging.  First, you don’t know how accessible a website is until you start filling out their questionnaire.  I recently attempted to join one website and it was impossible for me to complete the personal profile without sighted assistance.  Fortunately, I have the perfect sighted friend who helped me complete the personality inventory, and we had a lot of laughs in the process!

The next major consideration is: when do you let an interested person know that you are blind?  While everyone has their own opinion on this matter, my rule of thumb is as follows:  I will not tell a person that I am blind until we mutually agree that we should talk over the phone.  By that point they have gotten a chance to know you and if they do not want to talk with you because of your vision loss, you are obviously not compatible anyway.  Regardless of how you go about it, being honest with people while conveying the fact that you are blind over the internet can be a tricky business!  Fortunately for me, my approach seems to work pretty well, and I often get comments like, “You don’t sound blind.”  While I know what they mean, that comment always cracks me up!

Finally, there is the most exciting challenge of all, actually going out on a date.  It is this third and final stage where things tend to get real interesting.

A while back, I had spent several months talking with a woman over the phone who was from a nearby state.  We finally decided to meet on a Thursday afternoon in early fall.  I happily took off work early, and we went to walk around Broad Ripple.  As we strolled through the village, she kept commenting that my being blind was surprisingly not a big deal.   Until ….

We had been walking on the Monon Trail and stopped at an overlook where a creek gurgled quietly beneath us.  Suddenly I noticed something missing.  My cane was gone!   Somehow it had slipped through the slats that we were standing on.

Oh man, what do I do now? I asked myself.  I could feel myself turning a bright red as I formulated how I was going to ask my date for help in finding my missing cane.  Embarrassed, I shared with her what had happen and we picked our way through the woods and down a hill where we found my cane caught on a log floating in the water.  Needless to say, that incident made for some humorous conversation as we continued our date at a local coffee shop.  Ultimately, the date did not go well, but I enjoyed spending the afternoon with this woman, and I appreciated her helping me rescue my cane.

Soon after that date, when my dad became sick, I put online dating on hold for a while.  A year later, my schedule is more flexible again, and I am excited about putting “datingRus.com’s” commercial to the test.  While I cannot be sure that I will meet the woman of my dreams, I am certain that I will at least make some new acquaintances and have several humorous stories to share along the way!

Shawn and Baby Farrah

One afternoon last May, a co-worker of mine encouraged me to come downstairs from the rehab center.  She said that she wanted to show me something.  I agreed and followed her down to the first floor where she led me in among the various employee cubes.  A group of people were standing around talking.  “Here, hold out your hands,” a person told me.  “Okay,” I said skeptically.  Something furry that was moving soon was squirming in my hands.  It was a kitten.  Someone had brought in four homeless kittens that they had found in a box on the side of the road.

Anyone who has known me for any length of time knows that I am a dog person.  Growing up we always had a dog.  Dogs like me and I enjoy their company.  They are generally rather basic and predictable creatures.  They want food, water, affection and they like to run.  Cats on the other hand, are sneaky, they trip you and I have always found them to be untrustworthy.  The free spirited agenda of cats has always left me on edge.

”Cool! Nice kitten,” I commented.  After listening to people talk about how cute the kittens were, I headed back upstairs.  In my mind seeing the kittens was a nice diversion but it was now time to move on with my day.  I was not interested in taking on a cat as a pet; I felt it would ruin my bachelor persona.  Besides, there was a lot of discussion taking place on who was going to be adopting the kittens.

A few weeks later I learned that one kitten’s new home did not work out.  The friend who was keeping her invited me over to hang out.  She offered me a beer which I accepted and I started playing with the kitten.  She was full of energy, had personality and appeared to be having a wonderful time jumping and tumbling all over the place.  Maybe it was due to the couple beers that I had, or perhaps, there was an unknown soft spot in my heart, but I took the kitten home the following day.

After a couple of days debating what I should call her, I finally decided on naming her Farrah.  Farrah Faucet had past away recently, not to mention, I found calling my cat Farrah somewhat amusing.  Later, the middle name of LaFonda would be added in honor of the modern day cinematic classic “Napoleon Dynamite.”

Right from the start, Farrah changed my life.  I was eating cereal, often a dinner staple for me, and I heard the unfamiliar sound of a cat purring.  I reached around my cereal bowl to discover Farrah siphoning milk out of my bowl.  Not long after that she almost got shut in my dishwasher and in the dryer.  When I got out of bed in the morning she would sprint into the bathroom jumping in the tub before I got there.  As I shower, Farrah to this day peers at me around the shower curtain; frankly, I find it kind of unnerving!

One thing that I have discovered living with Farrah is that each year brings a new thematic adventure.  Last year her major goal in life was to climb a tree outside of my condo.  Her attempts to climb the tree resulted in several interesting experiences such as the following story, which I wrote about it my personal blog:

Last night Farrah engaged in a long list of chaotic kitten transgressions. First, she knocked over a lamp. Then she was sitting in the sink and I had to turn water on her to get her out. Farrah then knocked over a stereo speaker. Finally, she got out without me knowing and climbed a tree.

I left her up there for two hours. Her meowing got progressively louder and there was a hint of sadness in her tone. I know cats are manipulative creatures but finally I thought I should do something.

A friend came over and gave me a ladder. I had no flashlight for him to use and I had no problem climbing a tree in the dark, I mean darkness means nothing from my perspective.

I climbed to the top of the ladder and as I did my forehead slammed into a pretty big tree branch. I paused and could feel a flap of skin that moments ago was not dangling from my forehead. I could also feel blood bubbling up out of the gash. At this point, I became angry wondering why I was up in a tree after 10:00 at night.  I thought about leaving her up there, but instead I decided to keep climbing. As I reached the top of the ladder, I discovered I was too short to grab Farrah. I stepped on a branch and then proceeded to shimmy up the tree trunk. She was wedged in a tight space between two branches. I leaned way off to my left and after about a minute prodded Farrah to take a leap of faith on to my arm. She immediately ran up my arm and on to my shoulder. Farrah purred loudly as I worked my way back down the tree. Strangely, I enjoyed climbing up the tree, even though my head encountered a tree branch, more then I did climbing back down as going down is more challenging. As I put stuff on my cut Farrah stayed on my shoulder purring, apparently thrilled to be back inside.

Strangely, after that experience Farrah stopped trying to climb trees.  I thought that this spring would be free of outdoor kitty adventures.  I was wrong!

Farrah has gotten in the habit of sneaking out of my condo.  She can open up my sliding screen door and slip outside undetected.  Recently an out of breath neighbor knocked on my door holding Farrah in her arms.  She said that she caught Farrah cruising down the street unattended.  The very next day Farrah escaped again and met a new canine friend, Sosha.  Sosha is a black lab puppy.  Everyday Farrah escapes and she and Sosha playfully chase each other and stare nose to nose with one another.  They truly have become friends in spite of my efforts to keep Farrah inside.

Each day truly is an adventure with Farrah.  Whether she is stealing my food, plotting her next escape or jumping out of dresser drawers at me, I never know what to expect.  One thing is for sure though; Farrah certainly has added some excitement to my life as she has become a much loved part of my family.

Farrah Featured in Jack Coleman's LOLZ

Over the past nine months, I have had the opportunity to participate in some incredible experiences. I have spent time hanging out with homeless people in the inner-city of Toronto. In December, I climbed Mount Marcy, the highest mountain in New York State. January was also full of adventure. I spent several days working with homeless people in South Central Los Angeles. After leaving L.A. it was on to Tijuana. While in Mexico, I got to play games with children at a rural orphanage, spend time with people who are forced to live in a landfill and witness first hand the horror of human trafficking. A couple of weeks ago I traveled to Costa Rica where I spent time at a yoga farm set in the middle of the rain forest.

As a person who is blind I had to become comfortable traveling in unfamiliar places. I had the opportunity to educate people in four different countries that people who are blind and visually impaired are truthfully just like them. One of the greatest things that I have taken away from my experiences is that it is absolutely essential to maximize one’s independence but that just as important is the idea that blind and sighted people can live in an interdependent relationship with one another. Being able to live beyond the daily grind of going to work and going home each night has truly made me aware of just  how many opportunities are available to people who are blind or visually impaired. It is my hope that my experiences will not only help me in my work with clients, but also impact the way I live and interact in the sighted world.

While my nine month journey has drawn to a close, one thing is for sure, there are many more exciting adventures that lie ahead!