I have been keeping a daily dream journal for about three spiral notebooks' worth of days. Most nights, I battle T-Rexes with guns that shoot toothpaste while naked babies do jumping-jacks in the background and that's that, but I will occasionally cull something especially strange or potent from the chaos. Then I will write it down, and transcribe it into this weblog.

Most mornings, I wake up, lay in bed for a couple of minutes and then write down everything I can remember about my dreams. I will present my scribblings unedited.

So, to begin, here are the highlights from the night before last.

• I was home. In my room, someone had reconstructed the bunkbed[I slept in the same wooden bunkbed for all of my childhood, up until about a year ago]. Immediately upon seeing it, I broke down in tears and wrapped my arms around it. It seemed very small and some of the planks were in the wrong places but it didn't matter.

The room was different, though I didn't realize it in the dream. The carpet was dark green with white blotches where someone had spilled bleach. The window was small and rectangular, the kind that lifts up. It was night and I was looking out the window. The house abutted the canyon, I was listening for Sasquatch.

• I was in a store with mom and Jason [my brother]. I was in a section that had computer games when I noticed that they were selling a new edition of Aliens vs. Predator. For some reason, I knew that this would enrage Jason, so I frantically tried to hide all the copies.

Afterwards, in the car, I remarked that the San Diego landscape - many steep hills shrouded in palms and mist - resembled Vietnam. No one seemed to agree.

Mom made a strange turn onto an abandoned-looking offramp that led up into a parking garage. There were people climbing down through this hole in the wall above our heads. Mom started speaking to them in Hebrew.

We kept driving and mom would occasionally interject strange non-sequiturs. I got really concerned and told her she wasn't fit to drive.

We ended up at the parking lot of Miramar Ranch [my elementary school], though we were on the upper field. Mom was driving perilously close to the parked cars and I started yelling. Then mom crashed into one of the cars. No one was hurt. We all got out and it was clear to me that mom was not mentally sound and Jason wasn't much better.

I had my bike and helmet with me, so I decided to ride back to the house to fetch dad.

The trip became a quest. After a while, I was biking across this narrow, rocky ledge that fell off into chaparral far below. There was a black guy walking his dog in the middle of the path. I tried to avoid him and turn around but ended up slipping, dropping the bike into the bushes below.

I climbed down to get the bike but was almost killed by the guy's dog; they were walking from a path through the chaparral. I scrambled to safety and apologized for antagonizing the dog. My retainers were in so I had a lisp. I got into some long discussion about philosophy with the guy before getting my bike back. I rode away thinking about how the trip was starting to resemble Harold and Kumar Go to Whitecastle.

My bike was different; all black and very simple. I was sitting on an empty Rockstar can for some reason.

I don't remember the rest.

And last night's:

• I was Batman. Robin and I were returning home from a gala event to find that our home had been penetrated. We rushed around, trying to ferret out the intruders.

This translated into a dream in which I was walking around the house in a t-shirt and underwear. Mom came home.

• I was driving dad and I up to Julian. I was steering from the back seat and almost went off the road a few times. We scaled a mountain and got out. It was dark and forested. The sky was a bank of gray. We slept in a cabin.