My First Two Decades of Life

 

    

            At 9:40 a.m. on June 8, 1991 I came into this world as a blonde and chubby six pound, six ounce baby girl. Two minutes earlier, my twin sister, Kelly, had been pulled from my mother’s cesarean-sectioned belly. Yep. A whole 9 months swimming around with another naked human being… gross. Kelly and I “miracle babies” accounted for the final of four children had by my parents.

University employees say why they enjoy activities besides teaching

         ST. BONAVENTURE (May 9) —Sandra Mulryan had her eyes closed backstage and exhaled to finish the last of her breathing exercises. She glanced at her watch. With the remaining five minutes until show time, she thought about uncorrected papers and lesson plans for class and if her husband and six grown children in the audience had eaten dinner. Finally, she rolled onstage in a wheelchair as Mrs. Bramson in Night Must Fall and spoke her first line.

            Faculty and staff at St. Bonaventure University who participate in non-classroom activities say they have different reasons as to why they get involved in other activities.

Students say campus heating system unreliable, replacement now on university’s budget

            ST. BONAVENTURE (April 13)—Alexandra Notaro awoke with a jolt. She smacked her hand to her forehead to wipe away the tiny droplets outlining her brow. She got up, walked across the room to the radiator, turned the knob all the way to the right but found the valve already closed. She stood next to the open window, took a deep breath and shook her head.

            At the center of St. Bonaventure University’s campus lies the central boiler plant, a building holding a heating system crucial to the comfort of all those on campus in the winter.

            Although the system first produced heat in 1949, 30 years after the central boiler plant’s construction, Philip Winger, associate vice president for facilities, called the system efficient and reliable. Students, however, find the system unreliable and regulation difficult.

Students, faculty seek increased printing access on campus

      ST. BONAVENTURE (Feb. 21)—As Francis Matuszak sat in his Catholic and Franciscan Heritage class in a second-floor classroom in Plassmann Hall at St. Bonaventure University, his foot tapped the floor repeatedly. He glanced at his watch. Five minutes remained in class. Soon enough, the professor stopped discussing the life of St. Francis of Assisi and dismissed the class.
      Matuszak rushed down the hall to Room 205, the new document printing room, and revised a paper for his Composition and Critical Thinking class. He logged in, typed and clicked print. After the printer burped up his pages, he stapled them together and dashed to class on the third-floor with two minutes to spare.

Students say campus activities key to fitting in

ST. BONAVENTURE (Feb. 11) — Alex Ross, smiling ear to ear, skipped into Bonacoustics and sat down among 20 new faces. Her heart beat at a fast pace as she stretched out her eager hands to grab the sheet music hot off the printer. Her eyes scanned the familiar array of black notes on white paper. She and her soon-to-be best friends in the a cappella singing group opened their mouths and sang.

In high school, Ross, now a freshman at St. Bonaventure University, performed lead roles in five musicals, sang in four choruses and played violin in orchestra. She said the devotion and togetherness it took to perform with other students helped her overcome troubles of high school. Ross said she hoped the same deemed true in college.

Rugby and Pink Bows

My pulse quickened, my fists clenched, and my eyes scrutinized the positions of the other team across the pitch. It had finally arrived, the day I had been practicing hours for. I was pumped to begin my first game of rugby.
        Floomp. Our full back kicked off the ball. We had forty minutes of hard rugby until halftime. I stood there, anxiously waiting for my chance to see what it was like to tackle a person running into me, and to run down the pitch with the ball. 
         All at once there were fifteen girls charging at us. It was then that I realized that I had absolutely no idea what to expect, or what was about to happen.         Bam! I tackled my first opponent ever! The thrill of the tackle sent shivers down my spine. Because of my tackle, the other team stalled for about three seconds until the ball was backwardly passed down their wing.
           Eventually, after a few minutes of rucking, some more tackling, and many turnovers, I had that prolate spheroid ball in my hand. 
           Everyone was shouting, “RUN, KAYLA, RUN!” So, I did.  
          One foot away from the try line, I found myself on my back with no ball in hand. I jumped up and quickly returned to my position as winger, where the fastest person on the pitch played.
          The ball was in my hands after a few more minutes, and instead of running into the body of the girl charging at me, I decided to pass it to our fly half. In a hop, skip, and a jump, she scored the first try of the game.
          The score was: St. Bonaventure University, 5, and William Smith College, 0. Our fullback attempted a conversion kick for two points and failed miserably. We held the other team remarkably well for the remaining twenty minutes. The first half of play finally ended. 
           Nothing had ever felt so amazing as the moment where I sat down, and poured that cool, refreshing water down my throat. Half time lasted a glorious fifteen minutes, and soon we were back into it.
            We kicked off the ball, and the other team caught it. I looked across the pitch to see whom I would have to tackle. That’s when I saw her. She was tall, thin, and blonde, and innocently standing there. As I was gazing into her soul, something distracted me. There was a hideous pink bow neatly tied into her ponytail. Anger swelled up inside of me and I thought, “That thing needs to get out of her hair, now. We’re playing rugby for gosh sakes.”  
           She got the ball, and I threw my arms around her legs and took her down… hard. I was surprised she didn’t cry. The bow didn’t come out of her hair, but instead she managed to pass the ball off mid-fall to a ridiculously jacked girl. I got up from the tackle and sprinted after her as fast as my legs could carry me. Gasping for air, I finally caught up. It was too late. She scored the try, tying the game. 
            Although we were discouraged, our team kept our heads up and finally got the ball back. It landed in the hands of my friend Nichole, who is a rookie and plays on the wing, just like me. She ran and got tackled. Next thing I know, a red substance started leaking from her nose. She didn’t let that stop her. She got back up just in time to receive the ball again. Boy, could she run.
             Three feet from the try… two… then one… SCORE! Little tiny bleeding Nichole, finally got us back ahead in the game.
             Fifteen minutes left. We’ve got to hold them. The same jacked girl as before got the ball. Within minutes, she had a breakaway from our post and ran to score another try, tying the game.
            Only ten minutes left. We definitely had to kick our intensity level up a few notches. I kicked mine up. I threw girls out of my way left and right. No one was scoring in that try, unless it was our team.
             Tough luck. Within the last two minutes of the game, the other team powered through ours like tissue paper and scored a try. That was it. The game was over.
               I kicked my cleat into the ground and put my angry face on. I was infuriated. I felt like someone was stabbing me in the heart with a javelin and then twisting it around a bit.
               Although our team lost, I learned a valuable lesson. Never underestimate a team that has a girl with a pink bow in her hair. 

Miss Congeniality

One phone call was all it took; one phone call that would change my life forever. The day I called Janet to enter as a contestant into the Peach Queen Competition was a call of great importance. After relaying all my information to her, my phone number, address, date of birth, etc, I was in.

This competition, a part of the Kiwanis Peach Festival, was held in Lewiston, New York, one of my favorite places in the whole world. I’ve gone to the fest since I was old enough to walk. Just thinking about the smell of all the delicious food, the feel of the hay under my feet, and seeing all the fun rides gives me an incredibly happy feeling.

On a hot and sunny late July, 2008 day, I met all the other Peach Queen contestants at a gorgeous house right on Lake Ontario. At first, everyone said awkward hello’s and nice-to-meet-you’s, but soon we warmed up to each other and started having fun conversations. I was sort of an outsider since I was only one of the few girls who hadn’t come from Lewiston Porter High School. So, right from the get-go I was already a leg down in the competition. Wonderful. However, I didn’t let it bother me and kept talking, being my usual cheerful and energetic self.

Soon, we met the judges along with the coordinators of the competition. From the coordinators, I was told that we were to learn a dance, strut our stuff in a fashion show, and write up a platform on something that we were passionate about. All of these things were to be recited in front of the judges, our parents, and everyone who was watching us on LCTV, the local TV station. After this speech, feeling a tad overwhelmed, we all gave hugs goodbye, knowing we’d see each other soon.

Over the next month and a half, we twenty contestants came together with our peach colored shirts, white shorts and sneakers, and became involved in different exciting activities. One day in early August, we had a picnic and softball game with the judges where we showed off our skills, or lack thereof. On another day, we had a Mary Kay makeup party where we learned which color eyeshadow went with what colored eye, how to apply mascara, and much more. During this whole time, us girls got to know each other well. Not a second went by when we weren’t smiling.

By the end of August, after a month of dance practices two days a week, I found myself fitting right in with all those LP girls, and they really seemed to really like me! With the competition only a short week away, we were all getting excited, nervous, and giddy. Before that fateful day came, we had to meet with the judges one at a time in an interview fashion. After searching for hours on Youtube for quick tips on how to impress judges, the time I had been dreading arrived.

When my name was called to come into the room full of the eight judges, I could feel my heart beating in my ears. The door slowly squeaked open and I could feel the judges’ eyes gazing into my soul. I acted like myself, but the nerves were not easy to hide. The questions they asked weren’t anything to difficult to answer, but what did they want to hear? Hopefully what I was telling them was good enough. I breathed a sigh of relief as I walked out of the room to drive home. Thank God that was over. Next step? Write my platform and perfect my dance; two daunting but doable tasks.

September was the first of two days of competition. On this rainy, miserable Saturday morning, all of us “queenies” were to walk in the huge annual Peach Festival Parade. In order to do so, we had to walk under umbrellas while throwing candy… too bad I didn’t have four arms to do so.

Later that night the competition started. We shared our platforms, walked in the fashion show, and performed our well-rehearsed dance in front of a live audience. After that was through and the judging was over, we were cheered off stage. It was the end of day one.

Day two consisted of getting my hair done in an up-do, putting on a gorgeous peach colored dress, and standing there onstage smiling until my face was numb. This was the day all of us were waiting for: who would be named the next Peach Queen? The emcee called the top four girls’ names very slowly. Holding each other’s hands firmly, we all held our breaths as he called the last name. The name wasn’t Kayla O’Keefe. I was devastated.

The emcee switched gears, however, and decided to name Miss Congeniality. This award was given to the girl who was the most pleasant because of her personality, and was based on the overall consensus of the girls. He called the name… Kayla O’Keefe! It was me! Miss congeniality. I was thrilled.

This competition was the best thing I’ve done so far in life. I made many friends of whom I am still in contact with today. This experience changed my life. The self-confidence I gained helped me deal with transitioning into college. I will never forget that amazing summer where I learned how to fit in, interview with judges, and gain an overall different perspective of life. It all started with a phone call.