Blog by Yessica Maher, los Angeles Native.

She explores life after marriage, starting a career in her late 30's, relationships, breaking cycles of abuse, online dating, self care, fertility and depression. 

It's all over the place, but so is living. 

Practice Like You Mean It

In 1993 I was in large military Drill Team.  I was actually the last or second to the last alternate and barely made it.  Practice was for a few hours after school and we wore uniforms for competition and spirit week.  It's all fun and games until you grow into old lady knees that suffered too many practices with forgotten knee pads. During practice, we were often exhausted and I was always so irritated by the coach, captain and co-captains that would stress that we had to practice like it was performance.  We had to practice like we meant it.  Going through the motions in rehearsal means you will go through the motions during performance.  Muscle memory takes over. Everything becomes automatic. You want your automatic to be amazing.

That lesson came back with laughter tonight.  I drive around with my windows up, music loud and singing.  I will also say "hi" to cute men, or "thank you" to one that is cute and exercising.  It's a public service, really. I say it loudly with windows up and it makes me laugh because they can't hear my catcalls.  Today I was doing the same as usual with the music slightly lowered because it was around dusk when the sky was blushing in farewell to a fading sun  and I wanted to feel the breeze of the evening air. There was a man running in the direction I was driving and I yelled my "thank you" like I meant it. He flinched with a faltering few steps and I realized how far my voice carries when windows aren't in my way.  I forgot the windows were down, and drove off in laughter.

Wild Hairs

Fiction: Huntress on the Prowl