#341: I'M SURE THAT WE'RE NOT
A couple of days ago, a friend of mine posted a little list, and I decided to replicate it with my own answers. You could try to call this a meme, but she didn't give anyone in particular the tap to continue it, and I'm only the second one to copy it that I know of, so you would be foolish to do so.
one whole breathing universe together" List
Favourite toothpaste: the best stuff is called Vicco that the Fiery One brought home from one of his work trips. It claims to be ayurvedic, but I have no idea what that means. It's tan and slightly gritty and not overly sugary, and my mouth feels clean afterward without that incredibly interruptive hyper-mint flavour tromping all over my senses for the next half hour.
Singer that will most likely make me cry: it is both a singer and a song that are inextricably bound together for me, "Little Boxes" sung by Malvena Reynolds. It is one of the saddest songs I know.
Most life-changing experience: my near-death experience meant that nothing in my life would taste quite like anything before it.
Favourite colour of socks: bright oranges or yellows or reds are best, but that's only because my mother-in-law knit me my favourite pair of socks ever, and those are their colours.
Most annoying thing about sidewalks: no one ever leaves a plaque telling the story of what was there before the sidewalk. What was the neighbourhood like back then, the countryside, what happened there before?
Favourite soundtrack for a movie I've never seen: "Apartment Hunting" is one of my favourite albums, which is mostly written and recorded by Mary Margaret O'Hara (who is not the famous harpist by a long shot).
Reason that i would survive if I lost everything I have: I'm not terribly attached to most of the things I own.
Favourite neighbour: Mr. Carpenter was my favourite neighbour. He lived across the back alley from my family when I was five. He mowed his lawn with a manual yellow metal push mower and talked to me like I was just any other person.
Best experience on a rooftop: I used to hide out on the roof of my house when I was a kid and daydream about a Venusian mothership whisking me off to my true planet. One night, I sat for what felt like hours hopefully tracking a light in the sky before I realized that it was nothing more than a satellite. I shrugged my shoulders, got off the roof, and got on with my life.