March 10th, 2005
|10:45 am - Discounting mammalian protuberances, Elizabeth would've made a good Frank.|
I didn't feel well this morning at all. I understand that those of you in the habit of consuming an entire bottle of Vodka in one sitting* are used to occasionally waking up feeling like you're going to puke, and hoping that you'll feel better if you do. This is an unfamiliar feeling to me however, especially since today is the first time I've thrown up since early 1999 ('struth).
I went back to bed, got up five minutes later, got sick again, lay on the couch for a good twenty minutes until I knew I was fine, went back upstairs and went to sleep. This happened around 6:30. I had a weird dream where I was invited with other alumni to perform as a guest musician in a concert at my high school. Backstage before the show I had a discussion with our Rhodes Scholar (or whatever she was that put her in the top 0.25% -- Matt? Jen? Renee? Does anybody remember?) who grew up to be a goth. If I tried to imagine this in real life I couldn't have done it, but in my dream she came out looking somewhat like a cute Dr. Frankenfurter.
When we actually got onstage, most of us were assigned to instruments we'd never played before. I got lucky and got the harpsichord (the same harpsichord we used to get yelled at for playing during study hall). Midway through the show we were interrupted by a group of soldiers -- male and female, all chosen for their extreme attractiveness (don't ask me how I knew this) -- who stormed onto the stage, distributed draft letters, did a quick gymnastics routine while reciting a poem about all the neat things you get to do in the army, and took off. The concert was pretty much over. Everybody went home kind of depressed. I woke up.
While I was in the shower I caught myself wondering how I'd break the bad news of the draft to my parents, then realizing that they'd been in the audience at the concert, then realizing that I was probably not awake enough yet to be showering.
* Dave used to do this. He probably still does, but these days he does it in California.
Current Mood: drained
Current Music: Baltimora -- Woody Boogie, because I feel like punishing myself, I guess.
Wow, what a morning. I hope you feel better soon. Like, hours ago.
I have dreams like that when I'm sick. Not necessarily about military poetry recitals, but of the kind were I'm still dealing with the bad news for a short while after I wake. It's not really worth the entire experience, but I rather enjoy the muddled feeling of confusion turning to relief when I realize it was all a dream.
Well Colin, I'm pretty sure it wasn't me since I barely made it into the top 25% of our class anyway. Perhaps it was Jen McA? Or Jessica Knutson? Yeah, definately wasn't me...I sucked a lot :)
No, it was Liz Johnson, and I'm trying to remember what scholarship she got. It was something that put her ahead of the people who were ahead of everybody else and apparently it was a big deal. So big that I completely forgot about it until this morning. Oh, well.
Didn't Liz graduate in 3 years instead of 4? I wouldn't doubt her to be in a doctoral program now...
She and her family went to my church - Liz just was very, very smart.
Yep, she graduated in '97. I didn't know her really, and I think we had (possibly) eight seconds of conversation after she quit orchestra. I'd forgotten all about her until she showed up in my dream... with spiky hair and fishnets. I didn't say it was a realistic dream.
spiky hair and fishnets? ooo. You must have been feeling REALLY sick. But, for some strange reason, I wouldn't be THAT surprised. Strange things happen with people in Stoughton. Kind of the nature of that town, I think.
In any case, I hope you feel better soon!
Thanks! I'm fine now. Actually, I felt better by midday yesterday.
It DEFINITELY was not me. I is not that smart. See?