Recommendations:

Chloroquine. I'd been warned that this anti-malarial pill, in addition to serving as a "suppressive cure" for a potentially fatal disease, occasionally serves as a catalyst for recurrant and unusually vivid nightmares. Not so fast, naysayers! Consider this high-definition bone-rattler from last night: To our chagrin, my (former) gatewaymates and I were invited back to Hilton Head, SC to re-unite one more time at the second instillation of senior week. Upon arriving, we discovered two unexpected differences from the original trip. First, our house had been relocated and slightly redesigned, so that it was now a beach-front 'cribs'-style abode. Second, upon entering said house, the four of us, Myself, Fleisch, Baumer, and J, were respectively transformed into the legendary rockers, Jimmy Page, John Bonham, Robert Plant, and John Paul Jones. Indeed, we, now existing as the four original members of Led Zeppelin, had been re-united to perform one final send-off for our peers, Bucknell University's graduating class of 2005. After drinking bottles upon bottles of red wine, we rehearsed for a few solid hours in the upstairs bedroom, with Fleischer just RIPPING the HELL out of the drums, Baumer leaning full-throttle into the mic-stand and wailing away with perfect pitch, and so on, and so on, until finally my alarm went off, and I awoke, hoping that for the next 15 weeks, I continue to be plagued by similar recurrent side effects.