Letters

I thought another interesting blog would be to discuss the different places to which I have sent letters. In these letters, I told the organizations who I was, what I have done, and asked if I could volunteer with their organization. I received one decline and one offer. The others never replied. I was extremely disappointed, to say the least. I sent letters to the Pittsburgh Steelers and the Penguins, The Mario Lemieux Foundation, Children's Hospital, The Red Cross, Birthright, and Toys for Tots. The Penguins said they do not accept volunteers, and the Red Cross offered me a volunteer opportunity. (You will hear about that in one of my upcoming blogs!) Out of seven tries, I received one offer. I am very disappointed, but I have hopes that some may still contact me. I would love to volunteer with these and many other organizations, but it will only work if both parties are willing. I still hope to contact some local schools in order to talk with students and possibly the Pittsburgh Zoo. Check out one of my letters (attached), and please continue to read my blog!
(The attached letter looks different than it did when I sent it! Do not be alarmed by its poor appearance. When I transferred it to another file to attach it, it was altered.)

More Somerfest Parade Pictures

Somerfest Parade

The next few blogs will be very out of order, and they are far past due. Regardless, I am excited for you to read about my past endeavors.
This summer, I was a part of my town's annual Somerfest Parade. The Somerfest is a huge gathering in town with music, drinks, and activities that many people adventure out to enjoy. It is kicked off with the parade every year. The participants consist of groups from around town, such as dance companies, businesses, sports teams, and princesses. I decided to participate this past year and ride on a fancy car in a big dress. I rode on a car that belongs to my neighbor, Heidi's, father-in-law. It was a fancy black car. I also included two escorts in the parade. They were my cousin Sydney and my neighbor Mariya. It was a blast! The girls enjoyed it, and it was great to get the name of the program out.

Patriot Manor Day 3 (Final Day)

Day three at Patriot Manor was an exhausting one! It was also one of my favorites. As always, the day began at 9 am. I immediately began working. My job for the morning was to make cupcakes for the residents to later decorate and eat. I spend a few hours mixing cake mixes, pouring them into cutely-shaped cupcake holders, making a mess, baking the cupcakes, and washing utensils and pans. I had a few mishaps during this morning task. The first was not filling the chocolate cupcake holders enough. They were a little small and misshapen. The next was filling the white cupcake holders too much. After seeing the chocolate ones fail from too little mix, I naturally added more to the white ones. They overflowed. Finally, I caught the pot holder on fire. (Shhhh! No one knows!) It was only the corner of it, and it was salvageable. I had to chuckle at my clumsiness that morning.

I stayed at the Patriot over my lunch break this week, and the lady I've been helping ordered us a pizza. I ate lunch briefly and worked on a puzzle. Then, I was back to my task. I set up the tables with bowls of sprinkles, chocolate, and icing for the residents to use on their cupcakes. Shortly thereafter the residents arrived and sat down to decorate. I filled their orders of either coffee or tea to enjoy with their cupcakes, and the Activity Director handed out the cupcakes. They all began to decorate. Some did a wonderful job! After all were finished, we cleaned up and I headed home.

It still shocks me the different levels of aging all present in the residents at Patriot Manor. I think it represents us all in a way. All of them have lived their lives but all somehow ended up needing a support system in order to live. This experience has opened my eyes in a few ways to life, aging, and death. It is crazy to watch how life moves in a full circle. We begin life needing full support and then develop to avoid needing others (teenage years) to wanting affection to responsibly taking care of others to finally diminishing back to where we need others' support in order to survive. I witnessed this throughout my visits in different ways. It is odd how people so easily accept that we will all die when they work around elderly people everyday. Of course, the pain still exists, but many people always just say, "It will happen to all of us one day" when someone passes away in the Patriot. It was interesting to me.

All of these experiences have been wonderful, and I am so very glad I was able to participate in volunteering at the Patriot. During the 16(ish) hours I volunteered there, I feel I have developed my personal skills, patience, understanding of and compassion for people, and a deeper love for volunteering. I am so excited for more opportunities!

Patiot Manor Day 2 Pictures

My example plate, helping the residents, and Christopher taking a nap.

Patriot Manor Day 2

My second trip to Patriot Manor arrived very quickly, and I struggled with planning an activity. After my mother suggested making noise-makers for the New Year, I whipped out my laptop and did some googl-ing. I stumbled across a simple noise-maker that is formed from paper plates. I decided this as the activity the residents would do on my second trip.

My boyfriend, Chris wanted to come with me one day to the Patriot, so he and I arrived at 9 am to begin preparation. As he napped (haha), I prepared the activity. I made an example plate by folding a paper plate in half, stapling it, filling it with dried rice, and decorating it. It was so cute! After all necessary supplies was organized, Christopher and I did a favor for the activity director. We cut the matte in a frame to resize it to hold a puzzle that the residents had put together. It was much more difficult than one may anticipate it to be. The lines are slightly crooked, but it looks good. Then we took our lunch break.

After arriving back at Patriot Manor, we finalized the puzzle project and continued with our planned activity. The residents arrived in the dining room, where the activities take place. We passed out plates and decorating supplies. Christopher helped staple the plates, and I moved around behind him adding rice to the folded plates. The next hour consisted of me helping the residents decorate their plates. Some needed help taking the backs off stickers. Others didn't understand what we were doing, and some were doing a wonderful job. It was very interesting to see the different levels of ability. Either way, helping them was so fun, and they loved the activity! I enjoyed the personal interaction a lot. It didn't last long enough, and before I knew, it was time to clean up. So we reorganized the decorating supplies, scrubbed the glue-covered tables, and returned home.

This week was more enjoyable for me because I was able to interact with the residents more closely. Next week is my final week, and it should be a fun one! We are supposedly baking cookies or bread. It will  be a great time!

English Paper

During my senior year English class, I wrote a narrative on my winning of the Miss Teen of PA title. I though I'd share it! Enjoy!

Eagerness to Embrace

 

            The anticipation in the room could have suffocated everyone present. All ninety-five candidates waited in the lobby of the college auditorium. Dressed in red, white, and pink, we prepared to run down the isles for the opening production number. Once our cue told us to begin, nothing but cheering and singing filled the room and my years. We all danced down the isles and sang to the upbeat, energetic music. The excitement drowned out my connection to the real world. For one brief moment, I felt as though I were removed from the auditorium and I watched myself dance and sing form above. I saw myself do jazz squares and cheesy hand movements that fit with the lyrics of the song. I looked through the sea of other girls and peered into their ecstatic faces. As the final pose took its form, I returned to my body on the stage where my eyes met hundreds of flashing cameras. The mountain of bodies dispersed into a mass of ants running from a squashing foot.
            Before I became aware and lobe before I wanted, I stood on the stage in formation to introduce myself to the audience and judges. As slowly as possible, I traipsed to my marked position on the stage. My entire body trembled as I repeatedly thought, "I'm going to mess up, blow it." Forgetting to move to the next blatantly marked X, I became flustered and uncomfortable. I began to feel hot and sweaty, and as I spoke, my voice sounded as though it came from someone other than me. Embarrassed, I stumbled to my seat to wait for the top ten to be announced. My large dress flowed over my chair like the thoughts in my head. Clapping for the other candidates as they introduced themselves, I conformed to others' actions, as I did not realize I had been clapping. The change in voices over the sound system made the audience alert, with the exception of me and my racing mind. Am I in the top tem? Could I have been good enough? Possibly I made it. Were my resumes impressive? All ninety-five candidates sat in their seats and waited for the finalists to be called. With each name read, my eyes drifted farther away from the speaker behind the podium, and my mind wandered more with each syllable.

            Fulfilling the first duty as a candidate in the Miss Teen of PA pageant, I contacted businesses, relatives, and teachers to sponsor my participation. A fee that covered meal and lodging costs for the pageant weekend, awards, and the use of the auditorium needed to be paid. After collecting the money and filing out the information paper the headquarters went to me, I waited for my second packet of information to arrive. When it did, I continued to prepare for the program weekend by filling out resume papers. Because the pageant was part of a scholarship program and not a beauty pageant, most of the score comprised of resume work. Included was information on my academic achievement and transcript, service to my school and community, and personal development.

            Thankfully, little other preparation was needed. The weekend of the pageant was filled with activities that contributed to my overall score, which would determine if I were to be in the tope ten candidates competing for the title. An interview and personality and poise projection contributed to the scoring.

            I shook as I waited for my turn to interview with the judges. When my turn arrived, I walked into the room, shook their hands, introduced myself, and waited for the questioning to begin. After answering many questions, I confidently left the room. The personality and poise projection followed my interview. As my mouth trembled from my anxious smiling, I walked across the stage, in a large circle, and I posed for a picture with Miss Teen of Pennsylvania at the time. All areas considered for the top ten candidates were judged. I had no more control over the result. All I could do was waif for the final show were the winner would be announced after the naming the candidates from the top ten.

            "I hope I made it, but it's okay if I didn't," I sympathized with myself as my thoughts continued to speed. I head, "Candidate number thirty-nine from Somerset is Hayley Fisher, finalist number three," and my thoughts froze. It was the turning point of my slumber. I hopped out of my chair and raced to mark my place on stage with the other finalists. Feeling too much excitement to hold in, I clapped uncontrollably with each additional name called. Finally, all stood proudly on the stage, and the first five exited for the beginning of the deciding moment. With a clean slate, the next activities determined the winner.

            Annoyed with parading around the stage yet another time for personality projection of the top ten finalists, I gladly left the stage at the end of my turn. Already having had my fill of speaking on the microphone, I dreaded reintroducing myself and answering a question from my resume papers.

"As sophomore and junior class president," the announcer questioned, "what were some of the duties you performed, and how did you go about executing them?"

My heart rate immediately increased twofold, and the fours seconds it took me to begin answering lasted an eternity. During those four seconds, I though, "Oh my goodness. I did not do anything. What am I going to say? How did I execute these nothings?" Even though I very well accomplished plenty of talks about which I could have spoken, I panicked. The microphone seemed mile away, and the audience was an ocean of hungry sharks. I palmed the microphone, and I cleared my throat before speaking in ribbons of flowing words that somehow made coherent sense. How did I suddenly enjoy speaking in from of hundreds of strangers, and how did I speak so well? I proudly stepped back and breathed deeply then joined the other finalists behind me. The other five entered the stage for the reading of the top five merit finalists.

My adrenal gland must have been working overtime because I felt a rush of emotions: excitement, nerves, hope, and pure happiness. Four of the top five stood at the front of the stage, and my eyes again dropped away from the speaker. They fell until my name rang throughout the auditorium as merit finalist number five. We received our medallions of achievement and retreated backstage to prepare for another on stage question. We five weaved through behind-stage hallways, around corners, and through doors to find a secluded area where we could not hear other's answers, for we all answered the same question at this time. I waited with eagerness for my turn as I sand "Row, Roe, Row Your Boat" with my fingertips plugged in my ears. I glided across the floor to the overhand of the stage where I stood excited and prepared for the question. Unlike the previous responses, this one came quite easily to me. I had no trouble elaborating. Proud of my answer, I smiled brightly and backed away from the microphone. All five of us sat in comfortable chairs behind the curtain while the judges deliberated.

My hearth throbbed, music from the stage thudded in my ears, and possibility tossed around in my mind. Squirming in my chair, I danced to the music to cover my uneasiness and jitters. Trialing behind a line of four different shades of cotton candy dresses, I tried to remain steady with each step on my nervously shaking legs. As I passed the embrace of the curtains, my eyes squinted at the bright lights. Glancing into the audience to find my family members, I saw nothing but a crowd of parents who were not my own and judges who had decided the outcome I awaited. My breathing quickened as the announcer's fingers fondled the edge of the envelope, glided down the edge, and tore the seal. The paper slid out of the precisely labeled wrapping, and the sliding and tearing sounds rang though the microphone attached to the podium. The echo resounded in my skill; it was the sound of destiny.

Each letter of her name, precisely punctuated, read form the paper revealed the fourth runner up. My clapping grew uneven from my shakes that became convulsions, and I began to feel discomfort in the depths of my stomach. A pit of fear mixed with excitement overwhelmed me, and my mouth smack with dryness.

As I expected my name to be called next, my heart jumped when it was not. The third runner up stepped toward the crowd, and I fixed a hair that tickled my face. It moved across my forehead toward my eye. I quickly tucked it beside the others in its rightful spot in the stiff mess of hair spray. My hand slowly clasped the other loosely in my lap as I awaited the next name. I peered into the audience that sat in shadows where I connected with the panel of judges. I counted eight of the sitting erectly and watching intently. Trying to concentrate on the coming name, I glanced away but returned my stare to the judge who sat in the center of them all. She stared directly into my eyes, which I found exceptionally odd. Again, I tried to give my attention to the speaker behind the podium. Wondering why she chose me out the three left at whom to gaze, I failed to do so and stared at the judge in return. The results seemed to be holding e by the throat, as I did not know why the judge looked at me. It may have been because I was to be called as the second runner up, or maybe I was chosen to take the title.

I quickly found that I was not called as the second runner up because someone else walked forward. Shocked, I glanced to the girl standing to my right where we met each other's eyes. Both stunned by the situation, we gazed for a while. I wondered if my smile looked like hers, which beamed gently with joy and satisfaction, or if I had a painful pull at my eyes from smiling and a crooked mouth from enthusiasm. We joined hand s and mine quickly began to sweat. The salty smell could have radiated to my nose had they been able to sweat enough. Before I knew, though, we cut ties, and she strode until she landed beside the others.

I could see the spectators cheering wildly, but the entire room grew entire silent to me. I stood alone on the side of the large stage as I ran my left and thought the curls in my hair. I placed my hand on the creasing of my gown and slowly raised it again to wave at the crowd. I heard footsteps pounding on the wood floor, and I saw a herd of candidates running toward me. As I ran away from them, my heel caught the back of my dress and a small tearing noise reached my ears. After regaining my footing, staff members flooded me, and my arms became shelves to flowers and plaque. I raised my left arms to that the banner could slide over my head to where it could rest across my chest. The strong scent of the flowers wafted into the surrounding area, and the plaque reflected shining light back into the crowd. I heard as many congratulations as I saw flashing cameras, and excitement and utter disbelief consumed me.

I ran to the opposite side of the stage to greet my family when I saw the approach. As I moved to lean of the stage, they joined me. I saw my father, and he reached with both arms to congratulate me. I began to cry because I had never felt as though I made him so proud. I glanced to my grand mother, who charged the stage. She quivered from excitement and bawled from feeling proud. My mother pulled me close and hugged me powerfully. When I took to my brother, even his eye held a twinkling tear. The suffocation form the anticipation I felt earlier in the day was replaced by my family's suffocating embraces.