C U L8R

Certain people know this about me: I am incredibly talented at one video game. It's the last one I ever understood how to play before "joysticks" turned into graphing calculators with 800 buttons, and people could steal cars with dead hookers in them. When I stand before that machine, I transform from my everyday self into a ninja who can fire and roll the ball in such a way that extra lives rain down on the board -- all while I'm narrating my ongoing strategy to drunk friends who cannot believe that I hold such powers.

Point #1: I love Centipede.

Last night, my friend Emily and I went to see Vagabond Opera at the Someday Lounge. As fashionable as it was to watch gipsy klezmer, it's really not surprising that we capped off the night at Ground Kontrol, Portland's pinball/video game palace. I couldn't survive one more hour without putting my initials back into the Centipede high scores. (One of the great injustices in my world is that no matter how many times "KLJ" is in the top ten, Ground Kontrol powers off at night, the scores reset, and I have to keep coming back to recapture my glory.)

Point #2: I am a nerd.

I don't know if that's entirely true. Nerd-dom is a matter of perspective. To me, flocks of people who wear the same skinny jeans and the same style of resale shop boots and listen to the same music and have the same kind of skin that's so tattooed and pierced that transitioning into old age smoothly will be impossible -- are ridiculous. But in Portland, they're cool. And to me, people who play Centipede and talk about books and wear sparkly sweaters and listen to old school soul -- are interesting.

So who knows?

What I do know is that after reclaiming my crown, Emily and I sat on my couch until 4 a.m., lamenting the fact that language is dying. Death may be too strong of a word; it's certainly shifting, as languages often do. This shift is frightening to us. And that either makes us nerds or drunk thinkers, but we agreed that richer forms of language (along with many beautiful things on the planet) are going the way of the salmon, which is going the way of the dodo. It's true of English, and I have to believe every language, from Spanish to Farsi, is subject to the same simultaneous mass extinction as humans all over the planet communicate with fellow citizens by using their thumbs.

Point #3: Text messages are ruining the world!

Em teaches fifth graders. She told me that she recently had a student turn in a paper with the word "l8r" on it. In ye olde English, that should read "later." But not when you have a five second attention span and some buttons to push. When I was teaching Intro to Fiction at University of Oregon, one of my students created a section of narration that went something like this: "She walked into the party, and all of the guys were wearing togas. LOL. She grabbed a drink and started dancing."

If you didn't notice anything wrong with the previous three sentences, then you think "LOL" is a sentence, and that proves my point. We're fucked! I'm totally guilty of text message shorthand, don't get me wrong. Just this morning, my Detroit friend texted that he was mailing Revolva performance footage to me. (I'm putting together a new demo).

I responded, "U R a prince! xxooo"

What's the difference between me and the true language destroyers? About fifteen to twenty years. The internet didn't exist, to my perception, until I was 18. I remember the original "mobile phones" when they were approximately two feet long and a foot wide and had to be plugged into a car. The first time I saw someone gabbing on a cell phone, my college friends and I collapsed into a puddle of tears; we could not stop laughing at how arrogant and stupid it was to walk down the street, talking on a phone.

Text messages came to me so late in life that they can't possibly replace my preexisting understanding of language. I worry about the people coming up behind me. They're the ones who will have no recollection of life before "btw," "omg," "lol" and "l8r." Not to mention, no recollection of life before sentences such as "Groc shpping tmrw n can get u smthg."

Books will still exist. Newspapers will still exist. But will they be stored online and yawned over the way I once yawned over "The Canterbury Tales"? And while we will continue to speak to each other with feeling, will human beings forever have to type LOL next to something funny instead of just crafting written words packed with humor? Will frowny face emoticons be required next to abbreviated, incomplete sentences that can't possibly convey the depth of our sadness?

This is not a new topic. Just one that's on my mind. The stories we tell ourselves about the world form our reality. And if our reality, our present culture, requires change, we have to tell ourselves some new stories -- and carve out a new reality using words as our tools. I can't fathom how that's going to be possible using Text-Message-ese.

I thought about this for so long last night that I hardly got any sleep. I was further confused by the fact that I had just flipped out playing Centipede, which is no more pure than microwaving a burrito, charming and retro though the game may be. I have lots of piercing thoughts about a better existence, but I also enjoy killing digital insects. And after destroying 50 zillion levels of bugs and mushrooms, I love going back to my apartment and complaining about how technology is making people stupid.

Point #4: I have not quite attained pure enlightenment by transcending the state of affairs in which I was formed.

Point #5: I hooped for 4 hours today -- two with Ty and two on my own -- and when I got home from the gym, all I wanted to do was make nori rolls and eat them while putting my thoughts in order.

Point #6: I'm totally satisfied and happy with this entire Valentine's Day; it was exactly what I wanted to do.

Point #7: I can't keep my eyes open anymore due to lack of sleep, perfect food and intense workout -- and my blogs don't have to wrap themselves up into a tidy bow anyway. They are just my thoughts, on a silver platter, for the consideration of approximately 100 people on earth.

Goodnight, tribe. Or as they will say in standard English circa 2025, "C U L8R."

PDX (and Eugene): Do NOT miss this show on Saturday!

I'm excited to have befriended Splenduh the Unicorn during my time in Portland. First of all, I don't want to be on that bitch's bad side! Second, I'm very much looking forward to chillin' in his badass Salon on Jan. 17th. If you're depressed by an over abundance of "dark cabaret," come let this show's magickal abnormality cure your Seasonal Affective Disorder. Revolva certified guarantee: You will DIG it! (Also, I'd love it if my friends would support this project, as its put on by folks who are working hard to create a vaudeville circuit for performers, extending from San Francisco to Seattle.)


THE NEW ECCENTRICS BRING YOU A NIGHT OF ABNORMAL VAUDEVILLE AT THE "SPLENDUH SALON"
JANUARY 17, SOMEDAY LOUNGE * 125 SW 5, PORTLAND * 9 P.M. * $5-15


Tired of the same old boring "vaudeville shtick"? So is Splenduh the
Unicorn, the magickal being banned from the Oregon Country Fair Stage in
2008 for inappropriate behavior. To relieve your existential boredom, he
opens his own highly non-traditional show on Jan 17 at Portland's Someday
Lounge. This magical night will feature a delicious mix of live chopsocky
battles, puppet journeys to the fourth dimension, beautiful bare burlesque
bodies, interactive danger juggling and one lucky person (probably you!) to
be selected to be the star of the show.

Splenduh has brought along some of his dearest friends and populated the
night with a powerful lineup of eccentric west coast attractions, including
the rusty tones of SINNER'S SERENADE...

* The kung fu acrobaticalists of NANDA

* Master "Object manipulator" CHARLIE BROWN

* Acrobatics by KAZUM

* Mistress of the hoop REVOLVA

* And the burlesque artistry of BABY LE'STRANGE, ITTY BITTY BANG BANG and CHARLOTTE TREUSE

Stay after the show for a dance party featuring the band SMALL SHAPES (AKA The Planets) and a short-yet-outrageous fashion show featuring the work of designer SARAH STYLES. This show will NOT feature William Batty, producer of the recent White Album Christmas show, as he talks *too goddamn much!* Maybe he'll stop by and open his loud mouth. Let's just see.

The New Eccentrics are a loose collection of artists, thinkers and
entertainers who say theatre doesn't have to be boring. Low-priced
entertainment can be moving, exciting and wonderfully weird. This show
launches an ongoing series of shows that guarantee an experience better (and
cheaper) than a docile night at the movies. And, since everyone who walks
through the door becomes part of the show, it may just change your life.
Cancel the therapist appointments, dance more and donate your black hoodie
and skinny pants to the homeless.

Due to adult themes, it is advised that those of sensitive dispositions stay
far away. Though his disciples are many, Splenduh does not claim to be a
role model.

Admission will be decided by Splenduh's Faeries – a scant $5 if you wear
something fantastic, $15 if you dress like a schlub, $300 if you are William
Batty.

And the "Revolvie" goes to ...

Congratulations to everyone who was nominated for one or more of hooping.org's "The Hoopies." Unfortunately, that made you ineligible for my own series of awards, "The Revolvies." The 2008 Revolvies are designed to honor those in the hoop community who didn't get a nod for various Hoopie categories, but who tickled my fancy anyway. This contest was judged by a panel of Revolva, and it is totally biased, and it is only meant to spread the honor around with some extra awards that have no corresponding trophy. Or monetary value. Or meaning. (Except that I love you.)

And now ... (crowd hushed)

A 2008 "Revolvie" goes to ... (sexy film actor opening envelope)




ONLINE HOOPING VIDEO OF THE YEAR:

“Vulcan Tech Blog 4” -- www.youtube.com/watch

Awesome hoop moves by Khan, Rich, Poki, Brian, etc. and also examples of other forms of object manipulation that inform and deepen hooping. I know it’s not limited to being just a hoop video, but I dig this one. Thanks, Vulcan.



FAVORITE 2008 HOOP TRACK

DJ Felli Fel "Get Buck in Here.” It’s the Revolvies. That’s what I revolved to all summer. Shut up.



OUTSTANDING NEWBIE HOOPER

Brian “Holy crap, how is he doing that?” Thompson

See beginning of Vulcan Tech Blog 4. I believe he began manipulating hoops after I met his Eugene, OR juggling troupe last winter (so beginning of 2008), and now he's in the Bay Area doing awesome stuff with the equally awesome Poki. Any new hooper can learn a series of typical moves in under a year. NOT every new hooper can do this. Brian's a super talented guy.

www.youtube.com/watch



COMMUNITY HOOP GROUP OF THE YEAR

The Detroit Hoopers

I’m sad that I didn’t promote this to people who understand how much good work the Detroit Hoopers have done in the past few years – and who could’ve voted to nominate them for a “Hoopie.” It’s the bane of Detroit’s existence that its human outflow is greater than its inflow, so no matter what kind of amazing things happen there, they won’t be widely known.

That said, Detroit deserves a nod for its contribution to hooping. In 2007, the Detroit Hoopers gave away THREE HUNDRED hoops for World Hoop Day (which was, I believe, the most given away in the world for that year). In 2008, the Detroit Hoopers once again did World Hoop Day proud by working in conjunction with the Black Rock Arts Foundation, the Detroit Dream Project, Motor City Blight Busters and Society to Promote Art & Recreation in the Community (SPARC) to put on a day-long hoop extravaganza for Detroit families.

Many of you who have been to Burning Man and seen the temple may not know that in 2008, David Best (designer of said temple) worked with a crew of Detroit volunteers to build a temple IN DETROIT. It’s called “The Temple of the American Dream,” it’s part of a community art park – in a neighborhood that really needs it, and it’s so beautiful that I get choked up thinking about it. World Hoop Day Detroit 2008 took place at The Temple of the American Dream, and all those above-mentioned organizations played a part in funding, promoting and helping out with the event. I came back to Detroit to take part, and we gave away around 100 hoops – with some left over that were going to be donated at a later date. The Detroit Hoopers also treated kids and parents to a DJ and bumpin’ sound system, shared food, convinced the Detroit Fire Department to stop by and hoop – and just generally organized an amazing event.

This is in addition to a constantly growing range of year-round hoop events in the Motor City. Various people are teaching classes and performing and sharing hooping as community outreach. And no matter where I revolve on earth, Revolva will always rep-ra-zent for the D. So, yeah – totally biased. I don’t care because the Detroit hoop community deserves a major shout out. A 2008 Revolvie goes to the Detroit Hoopers!

Black Rock Art Foundation’s blog (with photos of the temple):

blackrockarts.blogspot.com/2008....html

World Hoop Day Detroit Video:

www.youtube.com/watch



PERFORMANCE GROUP OF THE YEAR

Color Wheel

If everyone’s already done something one way, how can we build on what already exists to create that which does not already exist? How can we express creativity in our own, unique way? “Color Wheel” is a troupe that embodies the answer to those questions. They look like a crazy dream that came to life, and they are pushing mega-boundaries in terms of movement, costuming and staging. I applaud them for a refreshing amount of creativity. Let's have more innovation like this in 2009:

www.youtube.com/watch




FIRE HOOPER OF THE YEAR

Spiral, Jewels, Shakti

I was surprised not to see these names make it through the nomination round for a Hoopie. Multiple fire hoops, mini fire hoops, hot moves! Come on over here and accept your Revolvie, girlfriends.

Shakti: www.youtube.com/watch

Jewels: www.youtube.com/watch

Spiral: www.youtube.com/watch




MALE HOOPER OF THE YEAR

Tie between two dudes I didn't see on the Hoopie list:

Dustin Hubel

This kid doesn't get enough credit for how insanely, insanely good he is. He's doing behind the back weaves and hoop moves I haven't ever seen anyone else do. I had the opportunity to perform with him once this fall and also watch him rehearse at the Portland juggling club (before he recently took a hiatus from PDX). He is a master at the mini hoops, and he deserves a standing ovation for his tight technical skills. He also deserves to be picked up by a circus. He also deserves a Revolvie.

www.youtube.com/watch


Poki

Well, those who have witnessed the magic of Poki probably don’t know whether to be more enraptured by his stage presence or his rad hoop moves. I first saw him this summer doing a hilarious street show, involving his signature, mini red hoop, the Olympic Trials and a dream about stealing a ring from the Olympic logo. Next, I saw him killing it with his combo of clown aesthetics and masterful object manipulation at Oregon Country Fair.

After the Sunday night fire show at OCF, some little kids ran up to where Poki and I were chatting. They said, “You were awesome! You were our favorite! We loved you the most out of anyone!” They were staring lovingly at Poki. When they awoke from their haze of adoration long enough to notice me, they said, “Oh, and you were our second favorite!” I took it in stride. Poki’s one of MY favorites, too. A Revolvie to you, sir.

www.youtube.com/watch


... and some of my own categories.

BEST VIDEO THAT SOMEONE MADE FOR ME, BY THE BEST DANCER EVEN WHEN SHE'S NOT HOOPING

Dri's "Beat it"

www.youtube.com/watch


HOOP PHOTO OF THE YEAR

A Detroit Firefighter takes a break to celebrate World Hoop Day.

www.flickr.com/photos/954...10/sizes/o/


OUTSTANDING WAY TO ENHANCE THE TRANSCENDENT NATURE OF THE HOOP EXPERIENCE:

Sacred G Hooping.

www.youtube.com/watch


Good luck Hoopie nominees. Congrats, Revolvie award-ees. Now, I've got to figure out how I can manufacture some trophies created entirely out of respect and devotion.

The story of scars

I love to hear the stories behind people's scars. You know -- the death-defying skateboard bungle that caused a permanent dark spot on someone's thigh. Or the downstairs fall that left a slash on a forehead.

Tonight, because I'm moving soon, I was covering up the gouges that have formed in my apartment over the past two years. There are chips and marks here and there, from my futon scraping the wall. A wine stain on the carpet. And the worst offense is that my ceiling features muti-colored ribbons of gaffer's tape shavings -- known only to indoor hoopers. Hoop scars. That's what I've heard them called.

I was working toward erasing all of these chips and marks, when I started to consider the moments that caused them: intense living room hooping sessions (in the dark, dancing to my shadow from the kitchen light), sitting on the futon with Michael, grading my students' papers -- on my floor, over a glass of wine that was probably spilled during hoop procrastination. I had to sit down and reminisce, and it hit me that today is *exactly* two years since I arrived in Eugene. To the day.

I had come straight from Burning Man, with my little hatchback packed full of everything I own. Before that, I had driven from Detroit to Nevada by myself. I didn't know anyone in Oregon. I was totally shocked to find myself uprooting and starting over -- alone. I had so many friends in Detroit, and constant gigs as Revolva, and I had never lived by myself in my entire life.

Even now, it kind of blows my mind that I did this.

I remember my first night here, with only an air mattress for furniture, thinking, "What the fu*%?" A few weeks later, I recall trying to go dance at the Tango Center, but instead becoming engulfed by the Eugene Celebration. In my three-inch-high heels, lipstick and tango-y attire, I practically sprinted aboard the Triceratops (art car), and told Emily and Maja from Tribe of Eve and Ananda from Dragon Tribe and Jade from Fire Groove, "I just got here from Detroit. I'm so excited to find my people!"

At the time, I thought they must be rolling their eyes. I was fancied-up for tango and probably looked *nothing* like their kind of people. But I just hung out with Emily the other night, and she said she totally remembers that moment.

"I took your card home and kept it," she said. "No one ever introduces themselves like that in Eugene."

It's interesting that over the past two years, I've performed alongside everyone I met that night. I've also developed intense bonds in other social circles. This is fast-forwarding through a lot of hard work, though. Standing at gatherings with no one to fall back on if I didn't feel like putting myself out there too hard. Spending time in my apartment alone. Gathering phone numbers and having to be the one to call around to see what was going on (not counting on a net, the way I could in Detroit). The first month was the hardest. But it was also the most exciting, the time with the most potential.

I let the positive possibilities behind the gigantic question mark of "What's going to happen?" carry me. I actually miss how much energy I had at the beginning.

I could write 18 paragraphs about what's happened since. I could also sum it up by saying that it felt like I was bursting through a surface on my exit from the D and my entrance into Eugene ... and since then, it has seemed like I stepped off to the side and just took a 2-year time out. In the past, I've learned a lot by physically moving through the world -- traveling through Asia or Europe, living in downtown Detroit, going places, doing stuff, being more juice-ily alive.

My motion has progressively wound down these past two years to the point where, for a while, it feels like "my path" has involved ... sitting on the side of a path, resting. Dropping out of school. Breaking up. Working from home. For some reason, struggling to book gigs. I've just been here, meditating, hooping, spelunking through my thoughts and feelings like an adventurer shining lights into a cave. I'm not going to lie; it has been some ROUGH sh*t! I doubt most people EVER sit with themselves and feel the funk for half as long as my two year soul-searching sentence.

I guess painting over these scars, I realized how that act is symbolic of the final stages of healing. It tugs at my heart to think about the experiences that formed the marks in my home -- the people who have been in here with me, the time I've spent with myself. It's disconcerting to shift space. Again. But I've done everything I came here to do (I did need time to contend with certain things), and now I'm ready to move on. Today is an exact book end on moving to Eugene.

Time to make some new stories.

Movin' on up

Alright, Eugene. It's that time.

I got an apartment on the NE side of Portland, across from a dance studio (where I can continue my progression toward b-girl-dom), above a coffee shop (where I can write), around the corner from a salsa club (where my high heel collection can *finally* come out of its Eugene-based hibernation), and I'm moving. I'll be back for my writing job one night a week, and I'll living up there for the rest of the time.
Come visit!

P.S. That's a VooDoo Donut in my picture. I'm frightened that I'll be living so close to the "Ol' Dirty Bastard" (peanut butter and oreo). I rarely even eat sugar, but it's soooo goooooood.

1-800-393-5297

Call this number. NOW! After posting a somewhat blah blog yesterday, Caroleeena insisted that I had to ring it up immediately. I've already called it three times for maximum mood enhancement.

I can't explain how much I love you, Caroleeena. :)