Review by ILIUM333, February, 2008
As I drove west on I-70 toward Topeka, a classic-rock song by the group Kansas blared from my car speakers. “Carrie on, my wayward son.” The words mesmerized me, so I pulled over to a service area off the interstate. I felt a nap coming on (I’m in my late 50s). Over the radio, someone spoke and I went into a dream. I dreamt I continued on to Topeka, went up to a building, and knocked. A stunning soccer-mom with golden brown hair opened the door, dressed in a skimpy, red and mauve, flowered sundress and furry house slippers. “Come in,” she said with a big grin, “I’m Carrie. So nice to meet you!” We talked about her family, and she apologized for her non-working phone and her computer issues. I mentioned that I’d heard her nickname was Kissable Carrie. “May I experience that?” I asked.