#14- Protect them. Help them. Find them.

I have a new hero in my life.

Her name is Jaycee Dugard. She is the girl who was kidnapped at age 11 and held captive for 18 years in a backyard by a sex and drug addicted schizophrenic and his deranged wife. She had two daughters with her abductor, the first at age 14, and suffered sexual abuse unlike anything I have ever heard. I am reading her memoir, a stolen life, and am nearly done after just a day and a half (a record for me). I am finding myself on the verge of tears or vomiting pretty much through every chapter.

Jaycee's story is truly fascinating, gut-wrenching but fascinating, and sheds light on just how sick humans can be. It makes me angry, it makes me scared, but most of all it makes me feel helpless.

Jaycee writes, "It's easy for people to be horrified and shocked when someone is abducted, but what about all the other adults and kids living in sad homes?... I know I am not the only child to be hurt by a crazy adult. I am sure there are still the families that look great on the outside, but if someone were to delve deeper they would discover horrors beyond belief."

How do we help these children? How do we recover the abducted, save the prostituted and reclaim the sold? How do we uncover the true nature of an abusive household? More specifically, how do I? I want to comb through every picture of every child who has ever gone missing just in case I might recognize one, might have some sort of clue to solve the mystery and relieve the pain they and their families must be experiencing. They deserve closure, even if that closure is in the form of a dead body. These families need to know what happened to the most precious thing in their lives.

I would like to think I know the difference between appropriate and inappropriate when it comes to children. I would also like to think that if I do realize something isn't right, I will have the courage to say something. But it's difficult to question a parent, especially if that parent is a stranger. However, had a stranger not questioned the peculiar actions of Phillip Garrido, Jaycee's abductor, she may never have been reunited with her mother and sister. She would still be living as a slave to a crazy man, a mother of two raising her children in a backyard prison.

Jaycee writes, "We live in a world where we rarely speak out and when someone does, often nobody is there to listen... For many... it can be tough and scary to venture out and leave that comfort zone behind. It is so worth it, though. You could be saving a person or a family who is not able to save themselves."

Can you imagine how many kids would be saved if everyone who saw something suspicious spoke up? Sometimes mistakes would be made and people would get offended, but maybe if someone had said something sooner, Jaycee would have been safe at home years and years ago. I wonder how many opportunities I have missed to save a child just because I wasn't looking hard enough.

Use your eyes, your ears and your gut. Protect them. Help them. Find them. And most importantly, educate yourself. Jaycee is a survivor, one of the lucky few. There was nothing she could have done to prevent what happened to her, and had someone not been brave and observant enough to ask questions, she may not have made it. It is up to us to find them.

a special thank you

To the 2010/2011 Chicago Bulls...

Thank you.

I can not tell you how much you have meant to me. It has been a year of ups and downs in my personal life, but since October the most consistent and wonderful thing in my world has been you.

You have given me new friends, strengthened my relationship with my father, and made me believe in the beauty of Chicago again. During my sophomore year of life, a time when I could easily have given in to loneliness or frustration, you gave me hope. I know that sounds cheesy, but it's true. You are the men in my life and I have a great respect for you and what you do.

In my heart you were already winners, despite the MVP and Coach of the Year and Best Record titles. You are incredible. The heart and soul each one of you brings to the game blows me away and inspires me to take on my life with such courage and passion. Who knew we would make it this far?

You are amazing, and I cannot wait to see what we can achieve next year.

Love and devotion,

Maggie Stamell

(P.S. Luol Deng: You are still my boyfriend. DEAL W/ IT!)

#13- Only the Bulls...

I love the Chicago Bulls.

"Thank you Captain Obvious." If you follow me on Twitter (which you shouldn't, I'm not that interesting) or have spent any time with me in recent months, you already know that I am in love with the 2010/2011 Chicago Bulls. I've publicly announced that A. Luol Deng and I are an on-again off-again couple, 2. I would do almost anything for court-side seats, and III. I don't understand how anyone could love any sport more than basketball. It's time to explain WHY.

The rumor is that I'm a fair-weather fan. I understand why some might say that. Until this year you have never heard me be so vocal about this franchise, so it must be this year's winning record, right? Negative. I went to five games last year. I was at their last pre-season game in October with my "Luol Deng..." sign ready to rock. I've been 100% since day -1. In fact, despite living in St. Louis for four winters (a town that desperately needs a basketball team), I've been to at least one game every year for the last eight seasons. I truly love the Bulls. But why?

When I was little the Chicago Bulls were a huge part of my life.

I don't remember watching any sport other than basketball during my childhood. My dad moved here from Boston in the mid-80s; from Bird to Jordan. Basketball was his sport therefore it was my sport and the sport my youngest brother would become addicted to. It was fast, exciting, down-to-the-last-second action we could barely keep up with but somehow understood.

I went to games with my dad to watch MJ through binoculars from the 300 level of the Chicago Stadium, and later the United Center. I lived for that moment when the lights went out and the music kicked in, the thumping bass started pounding in my chest... "Annndd noooww. The starting line-up. For your CHICAGO BULLS!" To this day it gives me chills. You can still feel the energy of those years in the building. The history is alive and well in the UC.

In the early 90s this town was all about Michael Jordan and the dream team. Chicago was basketball; basketball was Chicago. June would arrive and with it the finals. I wasn't always allowed to stay up to watch, but I couldn't sleep. I'd lie in bed by the open window and wait. If and when we won, young fans would drive up and down the streets of the suburbs honking their horns and cheering. Listening to that glorious sound floating on the warm, early summer breeze is one of the most vivid memories I have from my childhood.

So maybe that's it; I'm nostalgic. But I think there is also something about basketball in general that I love. Football and baseball move too slowly for me. The stop/start nature drives me crazy. And soccer and hockey are no good; you have to wait forever for the score to change. Basketball is simple and quick and if you turn away for even a second you will miss something. You never know what's going to happen. How heartbreaking is it to be winning for four quarters only to lose by one point? How thrilling is it to win by one in the last split second of the game? So much emotion and movement and strategy and athleticism. I LOVE THIS GAME!

For me it's about a lot of things, but it is definitely not about fair-weather. It's about embracing something that has lived inside me for as long as I can remember. It's about the thrill and the beauty and kicking ass up and down the court. It's Derrick Rose, Boozer, Noah's hair. It's about hitting that three-ball at the buzzer to win in double overtime sending the crowd into a frenzy.

And this year, lets be honest, it's a little bit about Stacey King. "Too big, too strong, too fast... too good." Go Bulls.

#12- Waiting for the 'L'

The other day I was watching an old episode of How I Met Your Mother. If you aren't familiar with the show, its about a group of friends in their late 20s / early 30s living and learning in the city of New York. In the episode, Robin and Lily are seated at McLaren's bar hoping to meet new men, and Robin says to Lily...

"Guys are like the subway; you miss one, another comes along in five minutes."

My immediate reaction... EXCUSE ME?!? What the hell is she talking about? Clearly she's lying, or maybe things work differently for the single woman in New York. I wouldn't know.

I'm from Chicago.

Chicago. A city where public transportation is sub-par and a good man is hard to find. I've spent countless hours out in the cold waiting for the 'L' to show up, and countless nights in a cold bed waiting for the 'L' to show up. The love. What is all this "another comes along in five minutes" bullshit? New York women have it easy. If men were coming my way every five minutes, even awful ones, I doubt I'd still be single. Statistically I would have met one decent, good-looking, funny, smart man by now who wanted to be with me too. And if the train showed up every five minutes? Forget about it. That would be even better. A medium cup of coffee and that stupid heat lamp only keep me warm for so long out there on the platform.

Ah the two L's in my life. Both are unreliable, both are messy, both guarantee an interaction with a crazy person, and both frustrate me to no end. But guess what? I need them both. To get where I want to go, to where I need to go, I have to have the 'L.' Both are essential to my existence in this city, and no matter how frustrating they may be, I'm not ready to give up on Chicago public transportation or Chicago men just yet.

So this is my response to the How I Met Your Mother theory on guys...

"Guys are like the L; you miss one, sucks. You'll catch one eventually. You just have to be patient."