Last week, my website crashed three times. I couldn’t update to the newest version of WordPress because of severe coding errors. I couldn’t update anything or even install new plugins. So, after talking to a computer pro pal, I decided that it would be best to just wipe this baby clean and rebuild it from scratch. Well, guess what? My website must have heard me because now it’s acting very sweet, and it let me do all the updates this morning without an issue.

Sorry, sugar, it’s a little too late.

My columns are still messed up and I’m afraid to touch the codes in case it crashes again. So yes, rebuilding it is still the best option, although losing eight years’ worth of blogging breaks my heart!

At least there’s my old LiveJournal page. For kicks, I spent some time reading through blog posts from 2006. Wow, memes were really popular then! And it’s surprising how many posts of mine revolved around American Idol, America’s Next Top Model, The Bachelor, The Apprentice, and Project Runway, the best one of the lot. Geez, my addiction to reality television was worse than I thought! My post on the joys of discovering iTunes was amusing, though, as was my decision that if I was as famous as Jennifer Lopez, my nickname would be L-Bo.

But there was something else that I noticed. I was much freer back then. I didn’t worry about what people would think if I wrote about my continued devotion to Word Perfect over Word, my hatred of being cold, and how I always do a little dance in my chair whenever someone ‘friends’ me while belting out my best Sally Fields impersonation.  “You like me!  You really like me!”

I enjoyed blogging.

I wrote without reins, but now I don’t.

What has happened?

Why have I become too afraid to fully express my personal feelings and thoughts–however bizarre they might be? Why has it become much easier for me to hide behind fictional characters, shining spotlights on their lives instead of mine? And why, at the age of 45 when wisdom is supposed to encourage bravery, have I lost my nerve of self-expression?

I tried to rekindle my love of blogging by creating a site mostly dedicated to running, a place where I could let my bizarre thoughts rip. I named it Run. Write. Rejoice. in an effort to be clever and have some separation from this Write, Run, Rejoice, Repeat site. Well, guess what. It’s not working…or maybe I’m spending too much time writing/editing manuscripts to make it work. There’s also been too many times where I wanted to cross-post, which defeats the purpose of having two blogs, so why don’t I just go back to one?

This is what I’m now figuring out.

Because I miss blogging. Do I think it’s the best use of time? A strong addition to my social media platform? No, probably not. Do I believe there are tons of readers out there suffering because L-Bo hasn’t been blogging? Uh, heck no, but I miss expressing myself freely. I miss rambling on about stuff like how awesome it is to eat a Three Musketeers candy bar by first biting the chocolate off the sides, then the ends, then the top (bonus it the chocolate comes off in one yummy strip,) then the bottom, (although–warning–this part is always messy because the chocolate isn’t as thick,) and then you throw away the nougat part because who cares for nougat?

Yeah, I miss that, writing without reins.

I’m bringing it back.

And I’m going to try my hardest to figure out a way to save all my old blog posts on this site.

And I still miss Word Perfect, I still hate being cold, and I still call out, “You like me! You really like me!” whenever someone friends me.

Oh, and it goes without saying that Project Runway is still the best reality show EVER.

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