HoopPath Cleveland 2013 After Thoughts


Hoop Path Cleveland has come and gone.  It was a pretty intense weekend.  As far as the weekend, and physically.  I have some real gnarly bruises forming.


Over all I gotta say it was good.  It definitely kicked my ass.  It wasn’t as “deep” and “emotional” as I had hoped. . . Normally I look forward to the emotional release that these workshops provide, but I dunno.  I’m just so jaded and guarded these days . . . and the workshops were more about movement than anything.  At least I thought so.

Anyways, Friday night things started off great.  I was excited.  I made sure I hydrated all day.  I ate right before hand so that I would be good to go.  Took an allergy pill. . . Met up with my gal pal and off we went.

We started the workshop with an exercise that Baxter likes to call “sway”.  Its where you stand in your hoop (or outside) blind folded, and you just “sway” to the music.  It’s sort of to wake up your body.  The purpose of the blindfold is so that you don’t have to feel so self conscious about what it is your doing.  Normally when you are looking around at other people and what they are doing, it becomes very easy to start comparing yourself and then insecurities start to emerge.  To truly let go and connect with your inner self, he requires the blindfold.


We stayed blindfolded for about 3 songs.  Sway, and then we did a sort of just dance and feel the music type exercise, and then we hooped blindfolded.  Again, it’s so you can feel comfortable in your body and let go of any expectations and insecurities, and truly open yourself to learning and the experience.  If you are worried about what you look like to others the whole time, then how can you focus on the task at hand?

So after the blind fold hooping exercise (I should point out here, that very rarely if ever, do people collide.  You start to get a feeling of awareness of your surroundings.) We stop and that is when I noticed that my hands were starting to itch and were extremely red.

I’ve talked about this before, where I get these weird “allergic” reactions out of nowhere, and itchy hands is the 1st sign that a full blown attack is on it’s way.

I took another allergy pill, and thought it better that I should probably take a short break and let it do it’s thing.  I didn’t want to exasperate my condition, so I left the room and went to the bathroom.  When I looked in the mirror, I saw that I had broken out in a rash and hives were starting to pop out.

This was so not good.  Not on my 1st day of Hoop Path.

I tried to stay calm and relax, and hoped that the Benadryl I had just taken would take effect before things got really bad.  But alas, it did not.  I started to get that intense pain in my pelvic area . . . it felt like I either had to shit real bad, or give birth. To an elephant.

Since I didn’t drive myself to the workshop and rode with my friend, I felt I was kind of stuck.  I didn’t want to disrupt the class to pull her out, having everyone see me looking like. . .  I dunno what . . . and even worse, having to make her leave the class to drive me home.  I mean, we paid good money to be there.

I tried to get a hold of one friend to see if he could pick me up, but he just sort of blew me off, not really taking me seriously.  Apparently he had more important burning man preparation things to do.  (Thanks Dick.)

By this time, I was gone for about an hour, and I was just getting worse.

I went back into the bathroom to throw up a few times and then my friend whom I came with came in the bathroom to check on me.

After she took one look at me, she told me she was getting my things and we were going.  She was going to take me to the emergency room.  I of course argued with her but she wasn’t having it.  I had to convince her that this thing “happens” and really it will subside eventually and I will be ok.  It was decided that she would take me to meet up with my sister who was in the vicinity and my sister would drive me home.  (I mean, I didn’t want my friend to miss out on anything.)

It was horrible people.  I couldn’t breathe . . . I was having a hard time catching my breath . . . the pain was intense. . . I was shaking and itchy.  It sucked balls.

Once I got home (and good two hours later) my body finally calmed down and I fell asleep.

But what a start to the weekend.  Jeeze.  I looked up my symptoms and read that sometimes this “condition” is brought on by exertion or exercise.  Great.  Also I read that the pain I was having in my abdomen, could have been caused by hives on the INSIDE of my body.  That’s right.  THE INSIDE.  What the hell??

Could I be anymore of an anomaly?  Bone tumors, weirdo kidney bleeding and inside hives.

The rest of the weekend went off with out anymore “attacks”.  Which was good. I went back Saturday and had my ass kicked by 4 hours of intense hooping. . . Mostly working on shoulder hooping, angles breaks and paddles.  Then again on Sunday for another 4 hours of hooping techniques called Touch/Point, (where you use the tops of your hands or palms to manipulate the hoop for off body movement.  Yeah.  I know.  What?)

and Folding. (anytime the hoop “bends” in front of you, to the side, up your butt (jk). . There is a lot of swishing the hoop in folding.)

I got to see friends I don’t get to see very often , I laughed and danced with my hoop sisters, I ate really really good. . .I mean, it was a perfect weekend.  Just about.  Except for that episode.  But who cares.

Anyways, here were some thoughts I had during the workshop:

I wonder what I look like swaying. . . .


I have no idea what to with my arms.  I never do.  I’m just not comfortable with them.


Taaaaaay in da wiiiinnnn Jay!  Taaaaay in da winnnnn! 

(If you get this reference, you rule)



Cool. . . I see the color purple in my mind’s eye.


Fuck. . . .How much more swaying?  I’m tired. . . .


Man I am outta shape.  Swaying is kicking my ass.


I wonder if he makes faces at us while we are blindfolded. . . hmmmm. . . .


Wow, that was pretty cool. . For a while there. . I just “was”


I am open dude!

(He likes to walk around the room shouting OPEN OPEN OPEN OPEN OPEN OPEN)


Umm, hmmm, my hands are getting itchy.


Wow . . . my hands are really red.  Take another beny and get some water.


Fuck fuck fuck fuck

(This thought would commence for a few more hours as attack takes place.)


Find your breath. . . fuck. .. Do I have to poop?  What the fuck?  Man this hurts. 


Am I in labor?  Fuck Fuck Fuck Fuck Fuck.




Now my breath stinks.


I wanna go home. . .



Ok I’ll spare the rest of my thoughts during my episode . . .  But a few more things before I go.


Fuck Point and Folding.  I don’t have the coordination for it.  I have to think and perform like, trigonometry in my head to switch out the positioning of my hands. ..  And the arc of the hoop along with it’s velocity times the ratio time’s pi. . . .I do not have cat like reactionary reflexes for this.   (It’s ok if you don’t know what I am talking about. . . I don’t really know what I am talking about either.)


Coming to someone else’s workshop and schlepping your goods during circle time. . NOT COOL.


Fire fans…..psssh.  Whatever.  I’ve seen better.


That was a most excellent Gouda burger.


I need to fire hoop more.


I could totally make her outfits . . . ehhh who the hell am I kidding.  I am too lazy to make those kinds of outfits.


I can totally feel the difference in shoulder hooping, when I power through the back of my shoulders.


Where are his hands going when he breaks?  What the hell?  That is like ninja shit.  What?


How do I even reach across the hoop with my opposite hand to break?  Am I supposed to be using my opposite hand?  What?  Huh?

I dunno.  That’s all I can really remember.

Do I feel like I learned anything?  Mmmm. . . . Sort of?  There are miniscule changes to technique I think that I picked up.  I am sure at some point, I will get folding and Point down (that is if I practice.)

You know what?  I didn’t take one damn picture this year.  Very Unlike me.

Anyways. . . Good Hoop Path Cleveland.  I came, I saw, I hooped, It kicked my ass. . I kicked it some back.

Hoop Path Cleveland 2013


This weekend is Hoop Path in Cleveland.

I am excited.  Not as excited as I have been in the past, but that is because I have become very lazy and critical of my hooping.

Why???  It’s like I totally regressed.

I guess I could use a good Hoop ass kicking.  So it will be good.

Plus it will be nice to be with my gals.

I dunno.  I really don’t have much more to say about it.  So we shall see.

Also, I came across this the other day and have been seriously contemplating it.


What can I lose?  Except the $10 for the application fee.  (really???)

It could be a good motivator to really work up something snazzy and totally step up my game.  I mean, pulling out all the stops?  Is that the phrase?  I’m talking costume and routine. . . polished and clean.

So I dunno.  I think I want to.  I just need to get some confidence about it.

A Must See For All Women

This made me cry.

We as women really need to be more accepting of ourselves. . . we tend to be more accepting of others, but overly critical of ourselves.

It needs to stop.

We ARE more beautiful than we think.




*sigh* So True. So True.



So I guess this is what “folding” refers to. . . . .


Ugh.  I just hate the thought of myself hooping right now.  I watch videos like this and think. . . why can I not hoop like that?  Why is my hooping not graceful and svelte like?

I watch people who have been hooping for like 4 months are they are all like bam bam bam!  With their polypro hoop. . . and younger more nimbler bodies.

I know I am already defeating myself.  I need to accept what i can do, and know that every hooper has their own personal distinct style.  *sigh* Yet it is my own personal body issues that seem to be rearing their ugly heads.

I think because of my bone disorder, I just appear to be more so slightly . . . .awkward in my movements.  My coordination and balance is off because my body itself is not balanced or aligned properly.

That’s just what I think.  Man.  Acceptance.  I have been struggling with this bitch for a while now.  Blah.  and I feel fat today.  and not sassy.

The end.




Casserole… a Metaphor

So I’ve got this “casserole”.  It’s a pretty good casserole if you ask me.  No.  Strike that.  It is a fucking awesome casserole.  I mean, its made with lots of good stuff….and ….love.

I put everything I have into making this casserole.  My heart, my soul, my intentions….everything.  It’s not always easy to make….but damn it…I make it, and I am always eager to share it with others.

Depending on who I am making this casserole for, also depends on what goes in it.  I’m open and flexible.  You don’t like paprika?  Hey that’s cool.  I will tune this casserole to your pallet….yet at the same time….staying somewhat true to the recipe.

So I make this casserole.  Sometimes I just make a little to see how the other person will like it.  If they do, then I’ll make a whole shit ton more.  Cause it’s what I do.

Sometimes though, I will make this casserole, and the person I make it for….doesn’t eat it.  They just sort of look at it like huh?   I tell them…try it!  Take a bite!  They will say….but I don’t like cucumbers…and I say…there’s no cucumbers in it.  They will make all kinds of excuses.  So I am stuck with all this casserole.

Or sometimes, someone will eat it up and not even think about all that went into making it.  As long as they are satiated, then why bother thanking the chef?

Most times than often, they will take a taste, tell me they would like more, and when I bring them more, they don’t want it anymore.
What?  Well now what am I suppose to do with all this casserole?
To throw it away seems like such a waste….and it makes me sad because again….I put everything into it.

I’m also finding that some people will tell me specifically what it is they want in said casserole, I give it to them, they will eat it….tell me how good it is and how they want more, and how my casserole is is the only casserole they want….meanwhile, they are down the street eating some other casserole made by someone else.  When I ask them why and what gives, they will try and tell me, you put onions in yours!  Down the street they use chives!  So I had to go down the street and eat some different casserole.  Then I will say. . but you told me you wanted and liked the onions?!

Or there are times when they go eat the casserole made by someone else, because that person puts potatoes in theirs.  Well, I am totally open to adding potatoes…..did you ask?  No.  So what gives?  Like I said I’m flexible.  I am soooo totally down with potatoes in the casserole….I mean, maybe I’ve always wanted to try the potatoes but never felt comfortable adding them before, questioning the delicate balance of flavors in my casserole. . . . I would have loved to have tried some potatoes in my casserole for….you know?  Maybe it would work out quite nice?  And if not, then I’ll just take em out . . . but we can totally talk about the recipe.

No one wants to talk about the recipe.

Yeah….so I got this casserole.
Maybe I should switch to baking.

The Long Hill by Sara Teasdale

I must have passed the crest a while ago and now I am going down

Strange to have crossed the crest and not to know,
But the brambles were always catching the hem of my gown.

All the morning I thought how proud I should be
To stand there straight as a queen,
Wrapped in the wind and the sun with the world underneath me
But the air was dull, there was little I could have seen.

It was nearly level along the beaten track
And the brambles caught in my gown
But its no use now to think of turning back,The rest of the way will be only going down.

I’ve always loved this poem.  To me its about missing out on the good stuff because you’re too focused on the negative.
I think too it could also be about setting up unrealistic expectations…life doesn’t always go the way you would like it.  Some times you get those brambles catching your hem, when all along you want to appear to be a queen….at the same time though…just cause you got them brambles stuck to you, you have to look up and not miss the world around you.

One Handed Float

Nice little Tutorial on the the One Handed Float.

Also I like her little outfit. . . wonder if I could make it?

Hmmmm. . . .



HP Cleveland is coming up in about 3 weeks.

Normally I would be tickled pink over it’s arrival.  This year. . . ehhhh. . .

I have gotten very very very lazy.

(don’t I always?)

Baxter has been going around bringing everyone his Earthquake tour. At one point he was going to do Myth and the Way when he got to Cleveland (talking more about the Miaden)  But then I guess he changed his mind?  To be quite honest, I was looking forward to the Myth and the Way.

So It’s back to Earthquake.

I am guessing this will probably be very core involved?

Let’s see. . .

“This year’s foci are: (for details, see below)

Core Technique Focus: Footwork
Touch Technique Focus: Folding
Music Focus: HipHop
Meditative Focus: Earthquakes and Rebuilding”

I have no idea what folding is.  If it is like folding in Yoga,  Ha!  I can barely touch my toes.  But I don’t think it is.

Hip Hop?  I am so down.  I love me some good hippity hop.


Anyways, what was i talking about?  Oh yes. . my laziness.  I have been pretty lazy since I did that show.  I may have picked up my hoop once or twice since then?  It just feels like a lot of work.

Then I get to watching other people hoop, thinking it will “inspire” me, and it doesn’t.  Instead I take it the other way and start hating on myself.  I feel after 4 years of hooping that I should have more to show from it then just vortexing and swinging the hoop over my head.  *sigh*  (It’s not about that Kaycee. . . you KNOW better.)

I’m just not loving on my hooping that much.

Now that I am thinking about it, its probably good he is bringing Earthquake to Cleveland.  I mean. . . Rebuilding.  I could use some of that. 

I’ve been pretty blah blah blah blah these days.  My sparkle is gone.  Not like my OWN personal sparkle. . . but that in itself is dull.  It could use some polishing. 

I guess just readjusting and learning.  Accepting and letting go.