our brightest blazes of gladness are commonly kindled by unexpected sparks

5. When did you last sing to yourself? To someone else? 

    I sing in the car all the time—and almost never anywhere else. Someone I loved and trusted has told me that I am a bad singer, in various ways and degrees, many times. It hit hard and closed my mouth.

6. If you were able to live to the age of 90 and retain either the mind or body of a 30-year-old for the last 60 years of your life, which would you want? 

    body, for sure. My brain at age 30 was nothing to make anyone too proud. Could I pick age 35, though, instead? I was 50% better, in every way, at that age.

17. What is your most treasured memory? 

    When my then-new-spouse and I moved to The Mitten a couple of months after our wedding, we moved into the apartment that he'd rented solo the school year before. The move was a ~15 hour drive made all the longer by two kittens in a travel crate in the back seat, mewing their heads off the entire goddamned time. It was dreadful.

    We got to the apartment pretty late at night. Brought in only what was necessary to get by, planning to handle the rest in the morning. We opened the screened windows to chase out some of the closed-up smell.  Our friends, who'd driven their own van packed with stuff along with us, stretched out on a sleeping bag in the living room. The cats had the run of the place, and after having some food & water and using their box, started to wander around, checking out the territory. 

     I slept later than usual, and definitely later than I'd expected. Woke to my still new husband sitting on the bed next to me, having taken my hand and woken me very, very gently. Once I was slightly coherent, he explained that, during the night, one of the screens had fallen out, or perhaps was pushed out by the cats. The screen falling out was no big deal, but the cats had escaped. 

    My first day living in a new state and my cats were gone. I melted down, but only for a moment, and then sprang into action. 

    It turns out that only one of the cats was actually missing. Our friends had woken to see the gray cat sitting in the windowsill...only, the windows didn't have sills: she was sitting on the air conditioner, directly below the window. They snatched her up and closed her in the bathroom, and then woke H.    

    I hopped out of bed, gave the gray one a hug and kiss, then went outside to find her sister. Neither of them would "come when called," but saying her name and giving a particularly-inflected Psspsspss would usually capture her attention. Much yelling and leg-patting (another familiar lure) later, she came rocketing out from under a car, launching herself into my arms, onto my chest, clinging tightly and mewing. I clutched her to me and carried her inside, where we'd already replaced the screen and closed the window (which we never opened again). 

    Seeing my kitty as she heard me calling, watching her run to me and onto me, and feeling that tiny body desperately glad to be close to me? That's the best memory of my life.

18. What is your most terrible memory? 

    my maternal grandmother's death, and the way I found out about it, is absolutely the saddest day that I can remember.

29. Share an embarrassing moment in your life. 

    I had to think about this one for a while. There have been varying degrees of embarrassment throughout my life. Big things and little things. Little things that seemed big at the time but were really nothing. Big things that seemed inconsequential until they really clicked. Simple regrets, innocent errors, miscommunication that got out of hand.

    In terms of pure embarrassment, nothing else is at the level of unexpectedly bleeding through pants or skirts when I first started having periods. It takes a while to develop the sort of sixth sense that is required to predict and control it—and by control, I don't mean "hold it in" like when you really need to pee but are able to not do it until you're in the right place. There's no "holding it in"; no muscles can do that! I mean anticipating and preparing and identifying the precursors that can help suppress it. 

    It really shouldn't be embarrassing, y'know? Half the population has to deal with it for at least some part of their lives, so it should just be a normal thing.

30. When did you last cry in front of another person? ...by yourself? 

    on a walk-and-talk with my walking buddy, A.D. She is easy to talk to, thoughtful, and generally kind. She's also good at deflecting attention from herself when she's working through something, so she asks insightful questions that lead to long and personal answers ... and that, for me, sometimes leads to tears. My emotions are pretty close to the surface and can be bubbled up fast with only a little pressure.

    When did I last cry by myself? A week or two ago, while thinking about my friend Chris. His particular insight and attention cannot be replaced and are much missed. I was thinking about my own urge to move, regularly, and what he would say about that, and his likely opinion about where I am now. I didn't realize I was crying until a few fat tears splatted into my lap.

 

[based on "The Experimental Generation of Interpersonal Closeness: A Procedure and Some Preliminary Findings" by Arthur Aron, et. al, and adapted from "The 36 Questions That Lead to Love: Modern Love" by Daniel Jones, published January 9, 2015, a 9-year-old article that remains behind a paywall here but is republished in plenty of other places; the title quotation is from Samuel Johnson]