Sadness slightly dilutes my excitement; it seems like every day now will be closer to the end of the trip. Stray corgi hairs embedded in my clothes and pillow are comforting me as I wait for my plane. A part of corgi is literally coming with me, and even though I understand that these are hairs she will never miss or even really know about, their presence lessens my usual pre-flight jitters.
In the airport, I looked for trinkets to bring to my host family, and found myself drawn to the Field Museum store, to the section with jewelry and bags in the style of Africa. I realized that what attracted me most would be a totally lame USA souvenir and considered that conversely, maybe what I found revolting might be a great gift. “Here’s a metal thermos from Starbucks, one of the the greedy corporations that form the backbone of America’s economy. And here’s a tiny cup on top that we don’t even use in the US, for various reasons that all boil down to laziness. Americans like things that could in theory serve a useful purpose but turn out to be unnecessary and worthless in practice. Like our last president. Anyway I thought this would be good for if you don’t like your tea to get cold throughout the day. ”
There’s a girl next to me who just arrived from backpacking Europe. I thought of my trek through Europe and asked her where she’d been, but neither of us had been to the same cities. I was grateful for this fact, because I don’t really like talking to people in the airport and was relieved to not feel compelled to compare stories and experiences.
My dreams have always been very lucid, so I’m not sure if I can attribute the dream I had last night to the malaria pills yet. Vance was playing in a mixing bowl of liquid butter, dipping his face in it, blowing bubbles and laughing. It was the grossest cute thing you’ve ever seen. I wonder how much weirder it gets than that but have a feeling I’m going to find out soon.
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