body art, for the second year in a row...

Veronica and I are making a trip to the Tattoo and Body Art Expo an annual event! This year it was at Rosemont Convention Center (near O'Hare) so it was a bit of a journey on the Blue Line. The 2010 convention was a bit smaller, but there were plenty of interesting things to see.

What I love about this event is that people are not afraid of displaying their individuality and creativity for all to see. There's a spirit of friendliness and acceptance that is quite joyful to be around. We met and talked with a bunch of fascinating people-- a man who had his entire body (sans face) tattooed (pictured above), a delightful young man from Michigan who used piercings to help him find clarity and openness in his relationships (also pictured above). I was so capivated by his looks and personality that it is highly likely he'll show up in a painting soon. We saw men and women who were unique in every way. That's so great!

I wanted a new tattoo really, really bad... but with the jobless situation right now, the timing wasn't right for that kind of investment. But Veronica got her hibiscus flower tattoo brightened up from a guy from Penitentiary Ink in Los Angeles-- it made a world of difference.

After seeing a piercing booth, I did what I normally do-- made an impulsive decision. I decided to get my belly button pierced. Well, I shouldn't really call it spur of the moment because I had been thinking about it for years, but I certainly didn't wake up Saturday morning thinking I was going to get one that day. Veronica acted as my photo documentarian and patiently took step-by-step pictures of the entire process. I was lying on the table (much like the doctor's office) so I didn't see much. The pain was intense but short-lived and surprisingly it only bled a little. I know that some of my readers are a bit squeamish (hello, Suellen!) so I won't post all of the pictures (admittedly, they're a little hard to look at). I'll just show the "after," not the "during."

But, bottom line, it was a day of exploration and positive energy with a friend who shares my spirit of adventure, so it doesn't get much better than that.

And the belly? Yeah, it hurts a little as it's healing. But I really, really like the look of it. :)

might as well jump...

I'm 46 years old and have never jumped on a trampoline. Until tonight. We went to a friend's birthday party in Des Plaines and they had a trampoline in their backyard. A bunch of kids were playing on it and it looked like so much fun. I decided I really, really wanted to do it. So I waited until the kids left to get something to eat, then I hopped aboard. The top picture is me airborne and the bottom one is after I landed. What a blast!! Shortly thereafter, I was joined by a couple of 9 year old boys. They kept telling me "jump!!" I thought to myself, "how nice! They're being encouraging and motivational!" Only later when I got off, John told me that they were hoping to use the momentum of my jumps to increase the height of theirs. So they were using me!!! Still, one of them taught me how to do a forward flip. I didn't execute it with much style, but landing on my butt and springing up again made me laugh out loud. I find that I enjoy myself so much more when I let go of my inhibitions-- and, disclaimer: no alcohol was involved!

we are the champions

Anything I write in this post will not come close to revealing the depth of my feelings about the Blackhawks winning the 2010 Stanley Cup. I feel like a fraud for even trying!

I cheer for three hockey teams. The Bruins, my birth team, are my first loyalty. The Blackhawks come second and the Penguins are third. The Penguins have won Cups recently, and although I've felt great pleasure in their victories, it wasn't the same. I have vague memories of the Bruins' last Cup victory in 1972. I was 9 years old. I remember we didn't have to go to school on the day of the celebration. I remember watching it on TV with my grandfather.

I wasn't even born when the Blackhawks last won the Cup in 1961. The team has undergone quite a resurgence over the past few years with Rocky Wirtz at the helm. He changed Chicago's feelings about our hockey team and gave us something to be proud of. The players are unparalleled in talent and in heart. They deserved it, but speaking for myself, I was almost afraid to hope that they'd actually get it.

There were a few bumps and missteps along the way. But when that unbelievable final goal was scored by Patrick Kane in game 6, I screamed so loud that all three of the cats ran for cover.

The days since have been remarkable. All of my friends know what a huge hockey fan I am. It took all of them only seconds after the final goal to post messages to me on Facebook, call me or e-mail me. Made me feel like *I* had won something. What an incredible outpouring of friendship and emotion. Made me cry.

Yesterday I stood on Michigan Avenue between Lake and Randolph along with 2 million other Hawks faithful to watch the culmination of a glorious season. I grabbed my spot on the parade route 4 hours in advance because I knew it was something I had to see as close as possible. I was front row-- couldn't have been better. I passed the waiting time eagerly messaging and e-mailing my friends to share the excitement with them. And I rubbed elbows with other fans, soaking it all in.

Across the street from my location was a Pauline bookstore. In the second floor window, a nun in full habit kept appearing and leaning out of the open window. Teenagers below had a boom box and they would periodically play a recording of the horn signalling a Hawks goal, followed by "Chelsea Dagger." The nun would sway back and forth to the music and raise her arms triumphantly. That became the defining moment of the parade for me. To see a city of people-- from all walks of life-- come together for something positive and pure was the best feeling in the world.

After a long wait, the procession started. First the Chicago police bagpipe band. The Budweiser clydesdales. A few corporate floats. Then the team executives. Finally, double-decker tour buses carrying the players. And the Stanley Cup. I took as many pictures as my shaking hands would allow. Their smiles were genuine and the love we had for them was even more so. It was a feeling palpable in the air around us.

I will cherish this experience as long as I live.

two races

I've been so lazy about posting. The past few weeks have been such a whirlwind of activity.

On May 29th, I ran the Soldier Field 10 miler for the 6th time. This race is very special to me. Aside from the patriotic holiday it celebrates and the reminder that brings of my beloved grandfather, the course is outstanding and the race is very well organized. This year my friend Vince and his wife Becky were in town for it, so that was an added bonus.

For some reason, I tend to run very well during this race. Maybe it's the big finish on the 50 yard line (which, incidentally, I've never remembered to watch on the big screen). Despite the warm and humid conditions, I was able to keep a steady pace, something that isn't always easy for me. In fact, towards the end of the race, I knew that I had "time in the bank," which is a very comfortable feeling, believe me. For the last mile or so, my iPhone was running out of juice, so I turned it off and listened to the soundtrack in my head. For some reason, I kept thinking of Prince songs ("When Doves Cry" and "Purple Rain" in particular).

I also thought about my grandfather, WWII vet, who I miss immensely. He never knew me as a runner, but I know he'd be proud. I thought about the folks waiting for me at the finish line. In addition to John and my out of town runner friends, Teresa was there. Teresa's my constant race companion, an extremely gifted runner and has been very generous to me with encouragement and support. Also, Susie made the long trek from the suburbs just to watch us. Sue has undergone some serious health issues lately, but her spirit is as bright as ever. She's the reason I finished the Chicago Marathon in 2006 and she means the world to me; having her there was everything. She was the first of the group I saw in the stands as I was finishing the race.

I ran it in 1:42:49, which is 4:40 faster than last year (my previous personal best) and good enough to be in the top half of my age/gender group. Pure happiness.

The following Saturday was Girls on the Run 5K at Montrose Harbor. This race is all about celebrating girl power and the importance of friendship and mentoring. How fitting that once again Teresa was by my side. We had the honor of accompanying her daughter Alexis on the journey. Since it was the race debut of my new Vibram fivefingers barefoot running shoes, it was a blessing that Alexis wanted to keep a leisurely pace. Nothing mattered in this race but togetherness and joy and we had that in spades. Not even the rain could keep us down.

This past week marked the beginning of my official training for the Chicago Marathon. 10-10-10 will be here before I know it.