Tag Tag Bo Bag. Banana Fana Fo... Er... Never Mind

I've been tagged. Twice over, actually, because apparently people think that I'm tag-worthy. I'd say this is new to me, but actually it's not. In grade school, I was always tagged, but that's because I run slower than slow. Kinda like the speed you'd go if you were carrying an elephant through tapioca. I just came up with that phrase a couple of days ago, and I think it's going in the Vault o' Carriespeak.

I may need my own dictionary if this goes on much longer. Webster Schmebster.

Anyway, I was tagged by the fab Tabitha (tempting to abbreviate her name for the sake of the rhyme scheme, but then she'd come after me with a spork or something) and the equally fab Brenda. Go and visit their wonderful blogs, if you haven't already. Don't worry. I'll wait. Patiently.

Oh, who am I trying to kid? The only time I'm patient is when I'm at the doctor.

So here's the taggy goodness. I'm supposed to tag eight people, who will then tag eight people, until this list of questions TAKES OVER THE WORLD! Bwahahahaha!

Er... wait a tick. That's not right. But I am supposed to tag eight people, who are then supposed to answer the questions, because answering questions is cool, unless you're on Jeopardy, in which case your bass is ackwards. So I tag, in politically correct alphabetical order: Aaron, Adrienne, Balthazar, Cate, Jamie, Jeremy, sruble, and Tiny T. I apologize for tagging you in advance if you, like me, have traumatic memories of grade school. I also apologize for tagging Tiny T's locked blog, but I thought she'd have fun with it. And lastly, I apologize for apologizing so much.

And the questions:
1. What are your nicknames? Slayer calls me El Wife. My closest friend calls me Carrie Spice, more like Posh Spice than Old Spice, I hope. My son calls me Beautiful. Methinks Slayer put him up to that. But isn't it so cute that it makes you sick?

2. What was the first movie you bought in VHS or DVD? Uh... I think it was sex, lies, and videotape. I had this James Spader thing back in the day, and I rented it about twenty times. And then I bought Real Genius, and my roommate stole it. I'd like to fill her house with popcorn, only not really, because then any remote chance I have of getting it back would be entirely obliterated.

3. What is your favorite scent? I like the smell of chlorine. I'm strange. This will probably not surprise you by now. Moving on...

4. What one place have you visited that you can't forget and want to go back to? Closest friend and I went on a cruise. Our adventures were many and varied and included the Rabid Man-hungry Aussie, a Boob Whisperer (kinda like a horse whisperer, only he talked to your breastal region instead of your pony), and Freaky Dancing Man, complete with kung fu elbow action. I could write a million comedy books based on the people I meet on cruises, and then I could write it off as a business expense.

5. Do you trust easily? Not particularly, but once it's there, it's there forever. I cannot think of anything funny to say about this, except to point out the words that rhyme with "trust." Off the top of my head, I've got gust, lust, and bust. Coincidence? Well... yeah, probably.

6. Do you generally think before you act, or act before you think? If you read The Wonder That Is My Blog on a regular basis you should know this by now. I just babble and hope it's funny.

7. Is there anything that has made you unhappy these days? Almost, but then I realized how lucky I am. I have three fab kids, a fab hubby, a fab new house. Man, I've turned into one of those happy people that I hate. That makes me unhappy. Ish.

8. Do you have a good body image? I imagine my body back to its pre-twin shape. Does that count? Because seriously, when I was pregnant with the twins, I had this red sweater, and I imagine that on satellite images, there was this big red dot on Earth. That was me. You could see me from space.

9. What is your favorite fruit? Pineapple, all the way, baby. Unless you count my friend Bob in college. He was a HOOT.

10. What websites do you visit daily? Uh... how long do you have to read this? I've been all blog crazy lately. But Verla Kay's definitely.

11. What have you been seriously addicted to lately? Well, blogs. And a few blogs. And did I mention that I've kinda been addicted to blogs? I start to twitch when I get too far away from the computer. Which is partly due to blogs and partly due to the fact that I finally figured out the snafu in my plot. Woot woot.

12. What kind of person do you think the person who tagged you is? Let me put it to you this way: if Brenda or Tabitha lived in Michigan, I would so want to have dinner with them every once in a while, because they seem like the kind of people I could eat dinner with and not want to throttle them. This is my silly way of saying that they genuinely seem like good people. Unfortunately, it seems that Michigan has been declared a writer-free-zone. I wish someone would have told me that before we moved.

13. What's the last song that got stuck in your head? Uh... I Feel Pretty. I was making a sarcastic comment that backfired on me. Bad Carrie. No biscuit.

14. What's your favorite item of clothing? Probably my Boondock Saints shirt. I adore that movie.

15. Do you think Rice Krispies are yummy? Why? Are you going to buy stock? Do you think I eat too much? Have you been videotaping my breakfasts? Yes? Oh. Cool. Yeah, I like them.

16. What would you do if you saw $100 lying on the ground? Pick it up, duh. If I saw someone drop it, I'd say so. If there was somewhere to turn it in, I would do it. If not, I would do Carrie's Happy Dance, which includes the patented Carrie Cabbage Patch. You ain't seen dancing until you've seen me Cabbage Patch.

17. What items could you not go without during the day? Computer, children, and Diet Dr. Pepper. The computer so I can write and check blogs. The children because, well, they're mine, and if they were missing that would be bad. And Diet Dr. Pepper to keep up with the first two.

18. What should you be doing right now? Writing. Or sleeping. Or watching my mother laugh at me while I lounge on the couch and bemoan the fact that I ought to be writing or sleeping.