My intro by
eeyore_grrl was really awesome and I liked it, and it was mostly about hula hoops, and so I think that instead of fiction this time, I want to do a series of non-fiction pieces on thoughts about hooping. It will be five years in September and I have been feeling a lot of things recently. And a lot of exciting things have been happening in the hoop-related arena to me. THIS ENTRY IS SUPER DISJOINTED BECAUSE a) I have just watched several Ze Frank videos in a row, b) A group I'm in on Facebook is having a really weird conversation that isn't making a lot of sense, and c) It's late at night and this entry is just an entry it isn't for any contest and SHUT YOUR FACE HOLE
so anyway.
I also was planning on spending weekends working on editing a YA novel I want to get into some type of shape that is hopefully good so that I can send it to
whipchick because I was lucky enough to win a consultation from her but not from writing crap like this entry, I'll tell you that right now. LIVEJOURNAL, YOU ARE THE ONE PLACE WHERE I CAN BE MYSELF. I can be a flailing mass of inarticulate lady goo (but not like period blood that is gross) and it's okay because you know me. YOU KNOW ME, LIVEJOURNAL.
What is Livejournal, anyway? Is it the site, or the people? When I say "you" and direct it at LJ, am I talking to you, the person reading this? Or am I talking to the masses of people, the ever shifting throngs of dudes and dudettes who have perused my entries over the years?
SHIT JUST GOT EXISTENTIAL UP IN THIS BITCH. If I'm correctly defining existential, which it's highly probable I'm not. And also my fingers keep insisting on typing esixtential which is WRONG. THAT IS NOT A WORD, FINGERS. YOU SEE THAT RED DOTTED LINE?? THAT MEANS YOU CAN'T FUCKING SPELL.
What is going on here.
Let's just end this now before anyone gets hurt.
