Yes, I can see your reaction now, nerd, and I imagine that the above clip captures it perfectly. The scrunched up, confused face, the increasingly unhinged repetition of the word “what?”. But let’s stop that analogy there because one, that makes me Catherine Tate; and two, you are no David Tennant.*
Hey, I’m back. A sentiment not worthy of an exclamation point, as you can see. But weird, right? Because a quick glimpse down the page tells me I haven’t written anything on this ye olde bloge since about June of last year. Which is like…well, it’s a lot of months. Don’t expect me to do the math, yo; that’s how I spend my days. The nights are for watching “Rhoda” with my wife and now, apparently, writing things on THE INTERNET.
Oh, yeah: wife. I got married in the time since we last interfaced. Which, by the way, was a clever combination of the words “internet” and “interface”, but somehow, it just looks like “interfaced”. I don’t think I did that right. Anyway, what? Oh, yeah: all kinds of stuff has happened: married, new place (and by “new” I mean we’ve been here for a year), got NH plates again. I still have the same terrible job, but again: why are we talking about that?
More important (stand back while I segue), why are we here? And not in a grand, meaning-of-life, sort of way, but like, why am I all of a sudden writing on Funky Carter again? Answer: Hell if I know. Maybe this is the start of a renewed enthusiasm. Alternately, maybe this will become the hilarious post I reference seventeen months from now when I get another brief burst of blog-based enthusiasm. (If I was trying harder, I could have gone for one more “b” word there, but you and I both know I’m not trying very hard right now. Baby steps.)
Okay, I’m half lying, because I half know why I’m (half-assedly) writing this. I’ve been feeling the weird, guilty nagging in the back of my mind that I should be writing something — anything. Every time I sit down and try to work on my comically long-gestating screenplay or some other terrible fiction, though, I inevitably get frustrated and lose interest because I’m lazy and a terrible writer (or something to that effect). The real issue, I think, is that by not exercising that part of my brain, it’s become fat, slovenly, and taken to wearing sweatpants and eating Doritios while watching BBC America at all hours. Which, come to think of it, pretty much sounds like me as a whole, minus the sweatpants, because COME ON. I have some self-respect, nerds.
I’m sorry: I’m lost. Hang on while I go back and reread that last paragraph…okay, right: why blog again? Because my brain needs exercise, and Funky Carter is a treadmill or a bike, or maybe one of those elliptical machines. I dunno; I’m not an “exerciser”. Also, if I’m being honest, I really and truly have missed the routine, the discipline that comes with actually keeping up this silly site. I’ve missed the fun of composing random run on sentences about pop cultural minutiae. I’ve missed Funky Carter.
So to the one person who still has Funky Carter in their Google Reader, hello. I hope I didn’t startle you.
NB: Yeah, I know the site looks like arse. I impulsively started upgrading Worpress and my old theme and whatnot, which caused a near system-wide meltdown, the end result being this temporary visual boredom. I’ll get around to tidying up. Hey, look, though: the old Funky Carter Halloween banner! Nostalgia!
* – Don’t get the analogy? Watch the video; it’s like, fourteen seconds long. Still don’t get it? Watch some “Doctor Who” already. You’re only fourty eight years behind.