I've had recurring dreams about a house I lived in that had an upstairs floor that I would constantly forget about. The dream would usually involve me walking to the back of my house into a formal dining room I rarely used, then noticing the staircase and going up there again.

In the recurring dream, I would usually end up in the upstairs section of the house and be threatened or chased.

Last night, I had a similar dream, but different. There was a forgotten upstairs in my house, but it was different from the previous dreams. The house looked more like the house I'm currently in, but oriented differently and with a staircase leading from the living room to an upstairs I often forgot about.

I noticed the staircase, then ran back into the other room to ask my girlfriend if I had shown her the upstairs. She had been living with me for quite some time, but I don't think I had shown her the upstairs rooms yet. I was trying to find her when I was awakened by the howling of my dog.

I had a dream last night that I was Batman. For some reason I was hooked up to an IV removing my blood along with a Villan, and we were trying to not be the first to pass out from blood loss. I started to get stumbly but forced myself to walk over to a drinking fountain to get some water.

I had a dream early this morning and woke up completely understanding the purpose of daylight savings time. I still understand it. This is awesome.

Not much to this... I had a dream that I was pumping gas, and I filled up the tank of my car with over 24 gallons of gas, for a total of over $60. When I complained to the manager of the station that my car only has a 15 gallon tank, he popped the hood and said "These four cylinder deals have bigger and bigger tanks these days."

I had a dream last night. I was the captain of a spaceship of some sort at the end of a battle that it appears we were losing. A starship full of bad guys was approaching a planet they meant to destroy, and we realized the only way we could stop them was by ramming the enemy starship, destroying us both.

After our ship was evacutated, only three of us were left on the bridge. We were only slowly approaching the enemy ship, so we had time to contemplate the manner of our coming deaths. Having decided that we weren't interested in dying painfully in the vacuum of space, we tried to find out who had a firearm so we could take our own lives just before the impact.

My first office had a handgun, so we went to her quarters. We found the gun, a .45 automatic, but she had no ammo. I realized I had some .45 shells in my quarters, so I was heading over there to get some shells when I woke up.

I had a dream this morning that I was watching a sitcom starring Jason Alexander, Dave Chapelle and Dennis Miller. Something wacky was going on, but I can't remember what.

Have I really not posted a dream here in over a year? Wow.

Had one last night. I was on some sort of a road trip and towards the end of the evening I stopped at a strip club. After spending some time there, I decided to turn in at an adjacent hotel. I got my room, but when I went into my room, somebody else was already there. This didn't phase me as we had separate beds, but there was a dead body in the room with us. I asked my roommate if he had killed her, and he said no. I believed him and went to sleep.

In the morning I asked him when somebody was going to come and pick up the body and he said he didn't know since he hadn't told anybody about it yet. I decided to go over to the front desk of the motel and report it. They asked me to hang out for a bit and talk to the police so I did. I was explaining everything to the police when my alarm went off.

I'm in a house that I remember from another dream I had a while back, but apparently never posted on here. The house is a two story, but it's laid out so that it is very difficult to get from the upper portion to the lower portion. There is a staircase going to the upstairs from the outside of the house, so as a result, I spend most of my time upstairs and use the downstairs mostly for storage.

I'm downstairs for some reason cleaning, and I notice that I have a nest of spiders living in the house right in front of the front door. I guess there were about ten of them, all very furry and ranging in size from two inches in diameter to a couple large ones fully a foot across with legs about an inch thick.

I look around for something I can use to kill them, but all I can find is a can of something. I coax a couple of the smaller ones out and squash them with the can, but then they all come for me. This starts up a nice long period of the always pleasant trying to scream but not being able to. I'm frozen at this point, but the spiders aren't really biting, just crawling across my bare feet.

The big ones are very furry, and almost feel like dogs when they brush up against me. I wake up eventually.

Went to sleep at around 9:30 listening to TV news. I don't know when I had this dream, but I remembered it vaguely when I woke up at around 5:30.

Apparently I'm some sort of weblog reporting collective reporting from Baghdad. Either we've assassinated Saddam Hussein ourselves, or performed some sort of coup in Iraq. I get the feeling that we're in charge of the country, but that the outside world doesn't know it yet. And we have Saddam's body, freeze dried and vacuum sealed. With all the water removed from his body, it's easy for one person to carry him around.

I think we were on the run for a while, but that is very vague. I was carrying Saddam's body most of the time.

At some point, we found shelter and we decide that we need to let the world know that Saddam is dead. The leader of our group suggests that we call a press conference. I say, "Hey, why don't we just post the story to our weblogs? It'll be like real journalism happenning on a weblog! That'll be cool!" We all spend the next half-hour writing up the story to be posted to our weblogs, but spend so much time obsessively editing and re-writing that nobody had posted the story by the time I woke up.

Weird one... I got to sleep at around 2:00 AM, and I guess this dream started at around 8:00 AM or so.

I was in a hotel of some sort, going to visit a friend. The hotel rooms were around the edge of the building, and there was a large open-air courtyard in the center. I get over to my friend's hotel room, and across the hall from my friend's room I see Regis Philbin on the phone in his hotel room. It sounds like he's taking car rental reservations. I knock on my friend's room's door.

Steve Martin answers the door and asks me to come in. Apparently this is who I've come to see. He tells me that apparently the phone for Regis Philbin's room got crossed with Avis Rent-a-Car's phone, so he's been getting all their car reservation phone calls. Steve tells me that Regis is taking all the reservations and forwarding them to Avis, "because that's just the kind of nice guy he is."

Well, I tell Steve that I'll try to catch him after the show, but I'd better get off. (I have the vague feeling that it's Oscar night.) I think I went to see the Oscars, but at halftime the Grateful Dead were playing a concert in the courtyard of the hotel. The whole band is there, Jerry included. Jerry is using some sort of wireless deal on his guitar, so he starts wandering through the crowd while going on with the show. He enters the hotel, gets in an elevator and heads to the eighth floor.

He gets off the elevator and knocks on a random door. An elderly lady answers the door and he asks her if she has any requests for the band. She says that she's sorry, but she doesn't know any of their songs, so she can't really make a request. Jerry yells, "Boot Scootin' Boogie it is!" That's about all I remember.

I was asleep up in the back bedroom of my parent's house outside of Chicago. I knew I should have written this up right after I woke up, because I remember it being cooler right after I first woke up.

It started out with a dream of some sort, then in the dream I heard the ringing in my head that usually precedes a bout of sleep paralysis. I awoke from the dream and found myself laying in the bed in my parents' guest room, but I was able to at least roll around in bed. The ringing was very loud, but the room didn't seem exactly the same as it was. The walls on two sides of the room were gone, and I could see down to the stairs on the other side of the wall opposite the bed. There was a rail in the place of that wall, as if my parents had decided to knock out a couple of walls and turn that room into an open area upstairs. I rolled around for a while trying to get back to sleep, but the buzzing in my head made it difficult.

Usually at this point I panic, but since I was able to move I was somewhat relaxed, other than the uncomfortable buzzing and the fact that I wasn't able to get back to sleep. I tossed and turned for a while and finally I was able to get comfortable laying in bed facing to the right. Just as I was getting back to sleep, the buzzing increased a bit, and I woke up, the room back to normal, and I was facing to the left in bed.

How dumb is that. I had a dream about laying in bed unable to get to sleep.

This is my second Sopranos dream in just a short period of time. I think I need to find something else to occupy my time.

For some reason, I'm hanging out with Christopher Moltisanti and his fiancee Adriana. Chris has a great idea to create some new drug, kind of the "crack" of heroin. He's purchased a large quantity of heroin, and we're back at an apartment cooking the heroin. Christopher has to leave, but Adriana and I are performing the conversion. Basically, we're dissolving the heroin in water, creating a paste, and spreading the paste into thin sheets. Eventually the sheets dry into something about the consistency of very thin peanut brittle.

We break up the sheets and store them in a dresser drawer in an upstairs room in the apartment. Adriana and I have to go somewhere. We get in the car and she is driving. I don't think she's high, but I'm not entirely sure. We make it around the block when she swerves a bit into the left lane and we get in a low speed head-on collision with another car. She gets out of the car and begins talking with the person she got in the accident with. I freak out, sure that this is going to bring police to the apartment, so I start walking across a field back towards the building.

I'm met halfway there by two apartment complex security guards. They ask me where I'm going. I panic and blurt out, "I do not give you permission to search the apartment!" They glance at each other and immediately one says on the radio, "Lock it down!" I bolt for the apartment. I guess they don't follow, because I make it back to the building. I let myself in, and Adriana is already there. I tell her we need to flush the drugs because police are on the way.

We run upstairs and grab the sheets. She starts breaking them up and flushing them, but the sheets don't break into small enough pieces, and they're not dissolving very fast. I get the bright idea to break off chunks and chew them up and spit them out, but it doesn't work very well. It turns pasty and I have trouble getting it back out of my mouth. There's a knock at the door, and I panic. It's either the police, in which case we're busted, or it's Christopher and he's going to be pissed that I'm flushing the drugs and that I panicked and drew the cops to the place. I frantically try to crush up more of the heroin, but that's about when my alarm clock goes off.

It wasn't really scary in a nightmare kind of way, more like the tension you'll feel while watching a good thriller.