Coming Home.

I went to jam last night and began working on my drills.  I gotta say that it was a good workout, cause I was super pooped when I got home.

Even though it should have only taken me a total of what? 11 mins? To get through all the parts, I went back and tried again to do each section in opposite current.

I also would try at turning the opposite direction that the hoop was going.

I noticed a few things:

-I am def out of hoop shape.

-When spinning the hoop on your hand above your head, turning opposite direction looks pretty cool.

-Spinning the hoop around my neck with my right arm out. . .needs work.

(which is surprising, because usually it’s the left side of my person that is rhythmically challenged?)

-I can chest hoop like no one’s business. . . in my normal current.  Opposite I can hoop like half of somebody’s business.

-I rock at waist/hip hooping.

-However, I do not rock at opposite current on my hips.

-Or knees.

– I shouldn’t say knees, cause I can do it, just can’t get it back up.

– I still feel and think that I look awkward and gawky when hooping.

I should smack myself for that last one.  Such an obstacle to get over. Especially when you are surrounded by all these wonderful beautiful people who look so graceful and svelte when they hoop. . . .or have been in dance class since the age of 2 and strut around in their little booty shorts and tank top, pirouetting and prancing about on their perfectly toned gazelle like legs.  Bitches.  😛

Then there’s me.  Lumpy big butt galumphing around.

The group has gone back indoors.  We have a space that we rent during the colder months, and when it’s warm, we venture outdoors.  It was strange though to walk into the jam room again. . . seeing how I haven’t been in that room in over a year.  A place that once felt like home, seemed so foreign and alien to me.  What our local flow community has become is not the one that still lingers in my head.  The direction that it seems to have taken is not so much the path I want to be a part of per se.  I’ll just say this and save the rest for another day, I went through a pretty rough separation process of coming to a place of acceptance over the turn of events considering the drift that the group seemed to take on.  A lot of separating the memories of how it was with how it is now.  I can finally say that I am not bitter anymore.  Sad?  Ehh, maybe a little.

It is what It is.

Anyways, there weren’t a lot of people at jam last night either.  In fact it was pretty much all old regulars.  Parts of the semi “original” crew if you will.  (with the exception of the two newbies who showed up.  A gal with a fucking sweet atomic hoop and a poi boy.  I shouldn’t say Newbies. . .I don’t know for sure if they’ve been to jam before or not.  But to me, they are Newbies.)

I didn’t talk to new people.  I wasn’t there to make new friends really.  Snotty as that sounds.

But hey.  Whatever right?

I do have to say, that towards the end of the night it felt pretty good to be surrounded by some of my old flow family members. ..  each of us creating our own little energy pockets and sharing with the collective.  Goofing about a bit and sharing tips and ideas on expanding our art, and then falling back into our respective bubbles of inner thought and flow.

I miss that.

I can eat a sucker and hoop?  That's how mad my skills are!

I can eat a sucker and hoop? That’s how mad my skills are!

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Muscle Memory & Strange Conditions.

I’ve decided that I need to get myself back into hoop shape.  I have been EXTREMELY hoop lazy.  I mean. . . Extremely.

I was looking on line for sort of hoop “Boot Camp” exercises to do, to sort of help get my mojo flowing again and I came across this.

(I am sure there are many other tutorials or workouts out there, but I only have ten minutes for break and this was the one that caught my eye.)

I think it’s a pretty good one as far as workouts go.  I mean, seems like a good way to build up muscle memory, and coordination.  1 min on different parts of your person. . . while turning with the direction of the hoop and turning against the current of the hoop.

1 min may not sound like a long time, but when you are chest hooping in opposite current, it can feel like an eternity.

(For those non hoopers who stumble across this, opposite current means the opposite direction from what you normally hoop in.  I am a Left to Right hooper, so my opposite would be, well, the opposite of that.)

So tonight the plan is to head out to my local jam and get back in the flow of things.  Ha.  Eh.  Er.

I think the last time I picked up my hoop was when I went to Michigan.

Actually that’s not true. I picked it a few weeks ago and hooped very briefly in my living room, and then immediately started to get itchy and hive-y.

See, I get this weird thing that happens from time to time, and I wish I could pin point exactly what the cause is. . .

Out of nowhere, my palms and the bottoms of my feet will get very red. .. And itchy.

aaaah! I’m itchy hand! Face! Thing!

This is how I know that whatever this thing is . . . is gonna happen.

Next, any bump or irritation on my skin, whether it be a bug bite, razor burn. . . .Whatever, begins to itch.  Immensely.

This proves to be exceedingly annoying because I do have a patch of psoriasis on the back of my head.  (I’m really a catch eh?)

(You can’t see it, unless you go digging in the back of my head. . . I mean, I’m not like Lizard girl, or the kind that needs to run off and join the freaks in a side show. )

That’s not me. In case there was any confusion

So that becomes all inflamed, itching like crazy and it takes just about every inch of my being to not pull my hair out.

These are the initial signs that shit is about to go down.   If I haven’t gotten to some sort of anti histamine by then, then we proceed to the next stage.

Rash-y Hives on my chest, neck and arms.

Sometimes my chin will become a red glowing orb of itchiness….my ears will turn red, burning and itching.

Usually my left eye will begin to itch profusely.  More often than naught, it will swell up to where it looks like I just went a round with Mike Tyson, ala Knock out style.

(Just writing about all this is making me itch.)

If I haven’t gotten to an anti histamine by now, then the following happens, which is probably the most bizarre symptom out of all of this.

My ovaries feel as though they are going to implode.

I’ve never given birth, but I imagine that what I experience at this stage is somewhere within the vicinity to going into labor.  It’s like someone shoving a knife and twisting it into my groin . . . non stop. All I can do at this point is curl into the fetal position and pray the gods take me quickly.  (Or the Benadryl kicks in and knocks me the F out.)

I should also point out that that I know that it’s not the ovaries that contract during childbirth.

Like I said, I wish I could pinpoint as to what the triggers are.  I thought it was a re-action to latex, yet there are times, when I am around latex and nothing will happen.  Then there are other times where I am trying to claw my skin off and pop my eye out because it itches so badly.

I also thought maybe it was due to low electrolytes or being dehydrated before embarking upon a physical activity (such as hooping) however, there have been times when I was quite refreshed and rearing to go and bam!  Out of nowhere.

Twice this occurred while I was out Karaoke-ing.  . . so could I be allergic to karaoke?

God I hope not.  I mean, other people may be allergic to my singing, but me to my own?  No way.

I tried to go to the emergency room once when this happened, but they wasted so much time with me in Triage, getting my insurance bullshit and then sticking me in a bed where NO ONE came to check on me, that after 45 mins, it subsided.  (All due to the 3 Claritin’s I took before my mom’s constant urging that I go to the emergency room)

And unless you’re displaying symptoms, I don’t think there is much they can do to diagnose.

(Unless they dehydrate me, scratch me with latex and sing shitty drunken renditions of Whitney Houston’s ‘I Will Always Love You.’?)

Bobby!

Once again, I have totally tail-spinned onto a topic that I don’t think I meant to talk about.

I think I am getting good like that.

So uh, yeah, what?

Oh yes. . . Getting back into hoop shape, starting with muscle memory and coordination.  Sounds good to me.

Let me just make sure I have plenty of H2O and Zyrtec.

Let’s Get Political!

I am not by any means an overtly political person.  I do though, however, tend to lean towards certain issues that would more so agree with the more liberal side of things.  I’m pro-choice, big supporter in women’s rights, not to keen on religion mixing with my government.  (Not that I am opposed to religion per say, I just don’t think that a lot of Old Testament Broo ha ha needs to be mixed with making laws.  Sorry, but we don’t live in the times of Leviticus anymore.) And while I hate to say this, regardless of who rules the office, I don’t trust the government much anyways.  I don’t feel like either party has anyone’s best interests at heart other than who is slipping them the biggest donation and backing. (That and I am more so convinced to believe that the President is just a puppet for a more larger secret government that is at work.)

Wu Tang bitches. . . C.R.E.A.M.

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I kept my mouth shut for most of this past election.  I knew from the get go who I was going to be voting for.  I mean, and with all due respect, I think it’s pretty unrealistic to expect someone to come in and totally clean up the mess of someone else with in a minimal amount of time.  You know, that’s just ME.

It’s not to say I didn’t voice my opinion here and there.  I did.  Mostly though it was just to say the above, and how as a woman, I could never elect someone with the type of mentality that my body was open to national discussion and should be treated as though it was not mine to do with.

(Not my body per se, but the bodies of women nationwide.)

Whether you agree with me or not, I don’t care.  It doesn’t change my opinion.  In fact I sometimes welcome differing opinions.  No matter how absurd I find them to be.  If anything, the challenge of thinking “differently” most often results in me looking at situations from different perspectives and/or affirming my beliefs even more steadfastly.

Which brings me to the point of all this.

I have (had?) been very good friends with someone for quite awhile.  Over the years, his views started to bend towards the more conservative side of things.  A bit annoying, but ok.  They are his beliefs and I considered him a great friend, so I wasn’t going to let that affect my opinion of him.  Sure sure, we didn’t see eye to eye on a lot of issues, but I felt  that our “arguments” if you could even call them that, weren’t blown out word matches were someone was left to feel all pissy about what the other had said.  Normally when I felt like my point wasn’t being recognized, I’d just back off and chalk it up to agree to disagree.  Then again, I wasn’t exactly looking to sway anyone over to my side.

Pretty much what it all sounded like to me.

During the whole election, this friend would post all kinds of stuff about how Obama sucked and Romney was the one. . . (Quite excessively if you ask me) and how Obama was pure “evil” and the root of all our country’s problems. . . blah blah blah.

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(more evil than Hitler??)

Which ok?  I’m not claiming Obama to be the best, but again, my opinion, what do you expect someone to do when handed a shit sandwich and told to turn into a 5 course meal?

So he says potato, I say po-tah-to.  Or vice versa.  Ce` la Vie.  No?

I also knew, with what a staunch supporter of the right he was, and how my own beliefs being more towards the left, there was really no point in arguing anything.  Plus I wasn’t here to throw it anyone’s face.  To be quite honest, I wasn’t posting on my FB feed that much political crap that supported my views anyways.  If I stated I was pledging myself to any candidacy, it was Bob Dobbs.

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However, this friend was.  Quite a bit.  In fact every damn post of his seemed to be about the election and the impending doom of our nation should Obama be re-elected.

In all fairness though, if anything, I can say that this friend was quite passionate about this election and Romney’s stance.

And well, I like passion.  Be it whatever.  So you know, good for him.  I guess.  Right?

At one point I made it known to him that even though we stood on two separate sides of the fence, that my love and friendship were greater than whatever political opinions we both held.  He would always be a kindred soul and someone I admired in my eyes.

So election times goes and passes.  We see Obama win.  My Republican friend is pretty perturbed over the way things had gone.  I would have hoped that his political rants would lessen a bit.  They did not.  They just kept going and going and going and going.  What was once a retort of his about people bitching about moving to Canada should Romney become elected, was now a statement from him about Obama becoming elected.  He and Texas were packing their bags.

It was all becoming very contradictive.  I don’t like contradictive.

So when he started to bitch about how Obama was playing golf instead of helping the Hurricane Sandy victims, I could not bite my tongue no longer.

Was Bush not on vacation when Katrina hit?  Did he not fuck that whole situation up?  Why was Bush on vacation when a natural disaster hit and his lack of jump to not a problem, but Obama taking a day off to enjoy 18 holes such a big deal?  And really, what do we expect ONE MAN TO DO?

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(Reptilian conspiracy. . . Bush is secretly an alien.)

(And really?  Call me ignorant, but isn’t the east coast bouncing back pretty steadily from all that already?)

For me, it was the mentality of, if you see someone in need, and you have the means to help, then help. No need  waiting around for someone else to take the 1st step.

So I pointed all this out.  I pointed out the Bush thing.  I said something along the lines of if you think these people need additional help, then help.

I’m sure my point was lost somewhere in translation.   That or it’s just useless to argue with Republicans who want to make someone the bad guy for every disaster that affects our Nation.  Especially if that person is on the opposing side.  Because somehow my saying of go out and help these people instead of bitching about how people should be helping these people somehow got turned into how Benghazi was a big conspiracy and cover up, how people will now lose their jobs and have to pay more for insurance etc etc. . .

I’m not sure how any of that has anything to do with throwing a few $$ or donating goods to those affected by Sandy.

Oh but how he and his republican cohorts tried to school me on the laziness and inconsiderateness of our current leader.

Frustrated that my message of simple humanitarianism was lost on deaf ears, I simply stated to these people that I felt my point was being lost and that I was wasting my breath.  I wasn’t there to talk about Benghazi or rising insurance costs which will supposedly force employers to have to let go of their workers due to cost. . . I was simply stating to stop bitching and be that help.

After all, wasn’t it Gandhi who said

 

“If we could change ourselves, the tendencies in the world would also change. As a man changes his own nature, so does the attitude of the world change towards him. … We need not wait to see what others do.”

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I decided it best I leave the conversation on my friend’s page and ignore all further retorts from his conservative friends.  (And likewise, him.)

I was also feeling that if this was the attitude that he was going to take, that I didn’t really want to see anymore of these posts come up in my feed.  So I decided it was time to remove his posts from my feed for awhile.

It wasn’t anything personal towards him.  It didn’t change the way I felt and thought about him as a person.  Sure, I think he was acting like a close minded idiot, but that didn’t mean that I loved him any less.  That I valued our friendship any less.  It’s not like we didn’t have other ways to communicate.  I just felt that if his FB page was going to become a dedication to Right Wing conservative views, then it was probably best I didn’t partake it openly seeing what political dumbness he was spewing out.  (This all is said with love.  Really.  Seriously.)  I didn’t even think that my removal of his posts in my feed would be seen as all that offensive to our friendship, because during the election he had stated that if people didn’t agree with his political views they could either delete him or hide his posts from their feeds.  He still firmly believed what he believed.

So imagine my surprise, when my good friend of almost over a decade, whom I have shared many amazing life moments,  with whom I had cried and laughed with on many occasion, whom I considered to be one of my kindred souls in this life, not only deleted me from his FB page. . . but also BLOCKED ME.

 

WTF???

It turns out that he went and deleted anyone that was openly supportive of Obama .

But to block me???

Wow.  Words just fail at the ignorance he just sank to.

It really saddens me that he would do such a thing due to differing opinions.  I thought our friendship was stronger than that.  I mean, if I am to tolerate his views, why is he not held to tolerate mine?  Isn’t that what a good friendship is all about?  That and other stuff? (Like telling me when I look like a dildo head, or if I stink.)

It also makes me sad that he is not willing to keep those around him who DO challenge his thoughts and ideals.  Not so much that he could be persuaded, (Or needs to be.) but for the mere fact of the reaffirmation of why it IS that you believe what you believe. . . and if anything, to see a different perspective, and to be open to different views.  (While not necessarily adopting them as your own.)

I think the above is good for rounding us out as human beings.

*sigh*

I don’t know what else to say about this situation other than it’s stupid.

Politics are stupid.  Face Book is stupid.  Ignorance is stupid.  Boys are stupid.

And if you want to know the real truth to the matter, Our government IS being controlled by a secret government of Reptilian Aliens.  That I DO believe.  More so than the power of special sacred underwear.

It’s all just . . . . . .stupid.

 

 

Dear Universe,

I am asking for a sign.  I know I haven’t been one on one with you as of late, and well, I know that I haven’t exactly been warm and fuzzy towards you either.  I admit my opinion of you has been a bit biting and discourteous, however you know that I do keep space for you with in my bedraggled shell, and often pause for gratitude on a daily basis.

So here it is.  I am sending it out.  I know you can hear my request.  I know it’s intent is reaching every corner of whatever infinite wisdom may be out there. As usual, I ask for my answer in the form of a flower.  Let’s say, a purple one.

 

Blessed Be.

 

Kaycee.

 

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Pussyfooting, Spirituality and Getting Shit Done.

http://www.facebook.com/photo.php?v=4830191195319

 (click on that shit and watch!)

I love this.  There is such beautiful fluidity that I envy.  I know if I just spent as much time in my hoop, I too could probably be a hoop genius.  Or maybe not.  I personally feel that I lack a certain finesse that most hoop gurus possess.  Most hoopers possess.  My body is not built like most, and I am hardly athletic, but that’s ok.  

 

I’ve been lucky to have been a student of Baxter’s on many occasions.  I really jive with his philosophy that not only applies to the space in the hoop, but also outside it in everyday life.

 

I feel that I used to be a more deep and spiritual person.  Every night I would lay in bed, quiet my head and have long conversations with the makers that be, thanking them for every inch of fabric that was my life at the time.  The good and bad.  I would ask them for guidance and for the Blessed Mother to send me signs that I was on the right path or at least pointed in the right direction.  (I would always ask for a flower to appear to me.)

I would surround myself with colors of light for healing or calming purposes.  I meditated on all 3 names of my spirit guides (Mark and Paul being the dominant ones, who seem to come around most often) and Mary (who seems to be a back up.) and would call upon them for their protection and support.

 

I always felt a presence around me.  I felt confident in my beliefs and my whereabouts.  Not that I don’t now, but I guess my attitude has become more of indifference and a bit flippant.  Jaded.

 

Somewhere along the way, I lost that connection.  

I can’t even tell you the last time I sat down and had a heart to heart with my guides.  I don’t even “feel” them around me.  Probably because I have let down the veil between this world and theirs.

 

I’m sure a great deal of why I lost it, was my own laziness and becoming too “stuck” in the physicality of this world.  Yes, we are humans.  We make mistakes, feel, react, indulge, etc.

I think it’s important though, to remember that we are also SOULS living in these human bodies, which also need to be nourished in some way.

 

I think another reason too as to why I “lost” it, is because I bought into this whole manifesting what you want bull crap.  I am not saying that it is not possible, to “attract” what it is you want, I just think that maybe you aren’t always (and pardon me for getting all Rolling Stones here) suppose to “get” what you want.  This leads to a lot of inner struggles with me as to when and if I should even set up expectations for life.  Or maybe I just need to learn how to handle my disappointment better.  I think that’s it right there.  Good thing I blogged all this out.  Nothing like having the lesson blared right out in front of your face.  Thank you universe.

 

 

 

 

 

 

Which also brings me to another point, the point that I wanted to make towards my hooping but totally got side tracked? 

 

 

I know that I lack discipline, and it’s something that I feel I really need to work on.  Not just in hooping, but in ALL areas of my life.  I tend to be a glutton.  A hedonist if you will. 

It’s not that I am lazy, (well leisurely I am to a degree,) I just like what I like, and simply over indulge.  Again, I blame this all on my Taurean instincts.  Ok Ok Ok, so I procrastinate.  That’s got nothing to do with laziness.  I know that when I have some down time, I could pick up my hoop and maybe give it 5 minutes of my time, however, sitting on the couch and catching up on Game of Thrones seems much more appealing. 

 

One of the reasons I really got into hooping was how it began to take me to a state of total awareness/ yet not awareness?. . . I’m not even sure that makes any sense, but It did help with meditating and just “being” for whatever time being.  It served (and still does serve) as a metaphor for that “something bigger” than me, and connecting me to something deeper with in myself.  It helped with the ego a bit (that is when I don’t get all caught up in being Ms Fancy Pants Hooptrickstar)

 

It’s good for centering.

 

 

Now that the show I’m in is in full swing and we are entering our second weekend of performances, I have more free time on the weeknights.  Which as of late, has been mostly catching up on neglected chores, responsibilities and slothing about a bit.  After next weekend, I will be free form this theatrical obligation and will have my life back.  My life of leisurely wantonness.

 

So no more pussyfooting.  I plan on setting small goals to keep myself enriched and on a path of well being.  I WILL sign up for yoga classes.  I WILL send in my application for financial aid so I can get the ball rolling on going back to school.  And I WILL make an effort to spend more time with my hoop.  Even if it’s just snuggling under a blanket on the couch, while watching Season 5 of Big Love.  Cause I never finished that show and I am so intrigued by polygamy.

 

(From a feminist viewpoint, I should be abhorred by such a practice, however, I think that if polygamy done right, as I feel it is done in this show, can be a real empowerment to women . . . because really, they are the ones that are in charge . . . telling the man where he needs to be and do at what time on what day.  Sure sure, it’s sickening that men use this as a “spiritual” calling to just stick their dicks into whatever women they fancy at the time, but if you’re a lady who just wants a man to bring home the bacon and you only have to sleep with him what?  Like once a week. . . This might be for you.  Just kidding.  Sort of.)

 

(Oh and I could never be a polygamist.  I’d scratch a bitch’s eyes out.  Again. . . Taurean possessiveness.)

 

Anyways, what was I talking about?

 

Oh yes,

I want the veil to be lifted again.  I want to feel the universe about me and it touching my soul, being connected and more grounded. 

 

And yeah hoop snuggling and Big Love. 

And getting shit done.

 

The end.

 

 

Overture, Curtain Lights

Tonight is opening night for the show.  Thank flippin God.  That means that I get my weeknights back, and don’t have to drive all over god’s kingdom come.  Not to mention that I will be able to go to bed at a reasonable hour now.  Something I am most excited about!

(*side rant. . . since when did I start giving a shit about getting enough sleep?  How did this sneak up on me?  I used to stay out and up all night.  Sure sure, I’d be dragging my ass to work the next morning, daydreaming of my pillow all day, and just telling myself I would have the weekends to catch up on sleep.  Man.  This whole being a growns up.  wtf?)

(*another side note. . . there is no such thing as “catching up” on sleep.)

Last night we had our final dress rehearsal and I got say, that it went quite well.

The theater had invited a few Senior Citizen homes to come out and be our audience.  So technically, It was our first show.  My director will argue and say no, because he still took notes.

There is that moment for me, when a show starts, and you hear that first reaction from the audience, and it makes all the bullshit you just put up with for the past month, oh so worth it.

Yes I bitched.  Yes I complained.  Yes I sat and sulked and rued the day I ever agreed to do this show, but it was all erased the moment I heard those old timers let out a uproarious laugh.  It was in that moment, I thanked the gods of theater for allowing me to be a part of an ancient art that brings so much enjoyment to others.

The energy mixing from the actors on stage with that of the audience is something that I find incredibly intoxicating and spiritual.

It’s why I do it.
So Break legs tonight!

On another note, I haven’t been posting much about hooping, because, well, I haven’t been hooping.  Maybe briefly when I went up to MI towards the beginning of last month.

However I saw this on Fb today, which caught my eye, and you know, I can’t just pass by flashy glowy things.

The Platonic!!!
platonic

 

(I tried to embed it here, but it won’t work form some reason, and I blog challenged, so click on the shit.)

From what I gather, it is just a prototype, but I gotta say it’s pretty darn cool.  I haven’t done much research on it yet, so I don’t know the price points and how it stacks up next to, say the atomic.

Gonna get back into my hoop mojo ya’ll!

fucking rad!
platonic