I have a musical crush on Andrew Bird, it's been in the works for a few years now. His use of lyrics more as instruments for their sounds than words to communicate meaning, strikes a chord in me. Sans google, I was convinced (am deciding I still want to be) that 'Masterswarm' was a song about Lariam.
Last night I had one of my first Lariam dreams, of what I am sure are many to come. From hereon they will be referred to as 'Meflo-mares'. Among the common side-effects of Mefloquine, a weekly anti-malarial, are vivid and often disturbing dreams.
When I worked at the frantically busy Old Spaghetti Factory in downtown San Diego, the waitstaff commonly called our dreams of forgetting to bring drinks, lasagna chasing us in the kitchen and perpetually unsatisfied customers demanding what we just could not provide, 'Spag-mares'. While simultaneously working for World Vision and shamelessly nursing an addition to the Lost series, I sustained dreams of disease, famine, and forced violence all against the backdrop of a nonsensical jungle.
The tricky thing is, often my dreams pick up right where sleep left me. Rarely can I tell the difference between realities while I am dreaming. This often makes for some confused first moments of consciousness each morning -
Wait, I'm not pregnant?
Oh, I am still in Switzerland?
Yes, my teeth haven't fallen out?
Bummer, that project isn't over yet?
Ah, Peter Pan and I aren't really that good of friends?
Sweet, I'm not at work with no pants on?
Last night, I was driving and a man came to my window while at a stop-light in Ramona, near Packard's. He had two of my mom's old kitchen knives and was leaning towards me with a big chipped tooth smile. Lucky for me, I recognized the knifes and knew they couldn't even cut through a tomato skin. Unafraid and like the ninja I aspire to be, I avoided the knives and smacked his grinning face with my fist, hard.
Waking up to the sound of your knuckles cracking against your bedroom wall isn't highly recommended.
Personally, I prefer waking to soft floating melodies, such as those that indicate dreams in sitcoms.
And by the way, illustrations of radiolarian in Haeckel's 'Kunstforment der Natur' are strikingly beautiful.
Last night I had one of my first Lariam dreams, of what I am sure are many to come. From hereon they will be referred to as 'Meflo-mares'. Among the common side-effects of Mefloquine, a weekly anti-malarial, are vivid and often disturbing dreams.
When I worked at the frantically busy Old Spaghetti Factory in downtown San Diego, the waitstaff commonly called our dreams of forgetting to bring drinks, lasagna chasing us in the kitchen and perpetually unsatisfied customers demanding what we just could not provide, 'Spag-mares'. While simultaneously working for World Vision and shamelessly nursing an addition to the Lost series, I sustained dreams of disease, famine, and forced violence all against the backdrop of a nonsensical jungle.
The tricky thing is, often my dreams pick up right where sleep left me. Rarely can I tell the difference between realities while I am dreaming. This often makes for some confused first moments of consciousness each morning -
Wait, I'm not pregnant?
Oh, I am still in Switzerland?
Yes, my teeth haven't fallen out?
Bummer, that project isn't over yet?
Ah, Peter Pan and I aren't really that good of friends?
Sweet, I'm not at work with no pants on?
Last night, I was driving and a man came to my window while at a stop-light in Ramona, near Packard's. He had two of my mom's old kitchen knives and was leaning towards me with a big chipped tooth smile. Lucky for me, I recognized the knifes and knew they couldn't even cut through a tomato skin. Unafraid and like the ninja I aspire to be, I avoided the knives and smacked his grinning face with my fist, hard.
Waking up to the sound of your knuckles cracking against your bedroom wall isn't highly recommended.
Personally, I prefer waking to soft floating melodies, such as those that indicate dreams in sitcoms.
And by the way, illustrations of radiolarian in Haeckel's 'Kunstforment der Natur' are strikingly beautiful.
2 comments:
Oddly enough, I just bought another Andrew Bird album last week. Previously I had only owned Noble Beast. Now have Armchair Apocrypha. It amazes me how craftily he uses words and how I simultaneously have no idea what he's singing about and know exactly what he's singing about. Oh, how I love it.
Also, it's no shame to love Lost, especially because I own the first 5 season.
So what day do you actually leave for the Congo?
I leave in 6 days... the morning of the 27th. Crazy. I am prepared as I can be, but feel so unprepared at the same time.
I think I'll listen to Andrew Bird now.
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