There was a time when I would write on my blog…a lot. Good ol’ jrzygyrl.com has been around in some way, shape or form since 2001. Back then, I wrote on it daily, like a diary. I look back on those entries now and cringe a little, seeing what I thought was okay to put on the Internet. Yikes.

Then I met some friends who loved music like I did. They introduced me to bands and artists I didn’t know, and started going to shows, buying more music, getting outside of my musical boundaries. And I loved talking about it. So I wrote. Slowly, jrzygyrl.com morphed into a music blog. And it was pretty good for awhile there.

Then my job got all adult and my Mom got sick, and I found myself wanting to be online less and less. I was tired of writing by the time I got home from work. I was worried about my Mom, stressed out about something at the office, wanted to blow off steam by grabbing a beer at a show, rather than sitting down and writing. Nights would come when I knew I should put out a blog post and I would half-ass something and throw it up. I didn’t even proofread or spell check. The horror.

And I hate how the page looks, but web designer I am not. So there’s that, too. It’s like going into the room in your house with the ugly wallpaper. You hate being in there because it makes you feel bad with its ugliness.

The worst part? I stopped reading other people’s blogs. Blogs I love. Partly because there aren’t enough hours in the day, partly because it depressed the shit out of me that I knew I could be doing it, too…and I just didn’t have it in me.

This year has been pretty tough. Mom got really sick; she passed away in August. I think it’s just now really starting to hit home. I cry a lot. I watched “This Is Us” tonight and about lost it when one of the characters started talking about losing his Dad. I wrote a little bit about the stuff with work before; it’s been a challenging 14 months, to say the least. I let some friendships go. Hard, but let me tell you, when your life feels like it is falling apart, you realize who will be there for you. And it’s not always the people you think. Despite all of this, or maybe because of it, I’m starting to find myself again. Or maybe a new version of myself. The hard stuff changes you.

I’ve been thinking about it a lot…writing. I actually miss it, which I suppose is a good sign.

And now, here I sit. Cursor taunting me. A double-dog “I dare you to write.”

But what in the blue blazes do I write about? Two nights ago, I actually contemplated that I should write a message to door guys everywhere to learn how to put on freaking wristbands. Then Shelia posted an Instagram photo of her wristband last night, and I knew I had to write it.

So tonight I’m going to show. And because I have to make myself write SOMETHING, I will be back tomorrow with proof of my hack job wristbanding.

Ya gotta start somewhere.

P.S. To be completely honest, I did not proofread or spell check this blog, either.