See? See what I did there?
I started up one of these not-so-new-fangled weblog thingies and then didn't write anything for months. I KNEW that would happen!
I read so many of these things. So inspired, and enthralled, and jealous of the incredible writing skills of the entries I read every day. "These people are so much funnier than I am. These people have a much bigger vocabulary than I do. These people have a far better grasp of basic punctuation and grammar than I do. These people amaze me every day with how their clever, funny words have allowed them to make some sort of a living for themselves and their families and there's no WAY I should even bother trying to compete with this.'
This is your brain on insecurity.

I've been talking myself out of doing things my whole life. Team sports, enjoying video games with friends/partners/whomever, adventurous cooking and baking, adventurous much of anything else, regular exercise etc etc. I'm not good at it, instantly, so I've lost interest and talked myself out of ever being interested in it in the first place. Safer that way. Less chance to embarass myself or risk rejection or, even worse, risk looking even a tiny bit silly in front of other people in a way that's beyond my control. Being the 'funny girl'? That's alright. I control that. I work pretty hard for that, actually. But being the cute, skinny girl? no. Being the sporty, athletic girl? no. Being the [insert skill I do not naturally posess skill here] girl? Probably not.
So what to do? I feel as though writing is something I'm decent at. People tell me I should have a blog. They enjoy my writing. We'll see, I guess. I'm not telling anyone about this thing. Maybe my super-hot-huz (SHH), eventually. Maybe not. He's got more than enough talents of his own brewing away to worry about this silly thing.

Might be theraputic though. Putting the words down, and not sending them to anyone specific? We'll see. I'll do better at this. More regularly at this. I think I need to.