I'm going to try and restore three dreams from my incoherent, half-asleep handwriting. I had a fourth, but I made the mistake of thinking I'd remember it and returning to sleep. Regardless, here they are.

Dream #1
For some reason, I think I had this dream twice in the same night. I remember waking up and remembering it around 3 a.m., but I know I did not write this down until 6 or 7. Who knows?

With two other people, I greeted a party of three inside a gated parking lot. Gravel covered the ground; a cool wind blew around me, and there was Ed Harris, dressed in a gray suit and hat, much like his character in A Beautiful Mind. He wasn't exactly Ed Harris. He resembled him and played an Ed Harris-like character but I don't know. He certainly did not introduce himself as Ed...In fact, when we approached the group, one of the people with me told me not to speak to him unless he spoke to me, that I should not use his name (which he told me and I've forgotten--It was really long), and that he was, in general, not a nice man. I believe our encounter was related to some sort of CIA-type intelligence operation, but that's merely speculation. We met, got into our car, and left the parking lot, venturing into the city of Evansville, Indiana, my wonderful hometown. We said nothing on the first leg of the journey. It passed quickly. However, after getting out of the car for a not-remembered reason, we were returning to the car, when I asked him a question AND used his name. I committed two errors at once, and as soon as we were back in the car, he went ballistic. Everything he said was bitingly derrogatory and condescending; sadly, I don't remember what any of it was. We were pulling through the North Park shopping center and out onto Mill Rd, when he finished his tirade.
"And that's the way it is. What do you think about that? Do you like the fact that I have scream to get my point across to you?" he asked.
"Actually, after the first few minutes of it, I stopped caring that you were screaming and figured that's just how you talk," I replied.
"What? You?" he choked, "You're just like everyone else. You only care about yourself!" He was crying now.
"No. You asked me what I thought about your screaming and such, and I ansewred your question. That's all." Silence. The light to turn on to 1st Avenue changed, and we were to make a left. There was road work going on, and the driver of our car pulled onto the wrong side of the road and turned on the inside of an orange construction barrel without realizing what he had done. He thought he had turned correctly.
"Now look what you did, you incompetent bastard!" Ed Harris' character screamed, suddenly back in his original form.
"I didn't know," them man replied. "It's hard to tell what these damn barrels are telling you to do. I thought I turned right." The flashing lights behind us only added to the situation.
"See?! Now the cops are after us!" Harris screamed. We slowed the car to stop, and I awoke.

Dream #2
And they only get weirder...

This dream began...well, I don't know where. I'll just tell what I can recall. As background, I must have been watching a documentary on a woman on PBS in the dream, but I don't recall knowing that until the end. When the dream began, I was merely watching scenes from someone's life. I believe there was a narrator, also, but it's as if I was watching the program live or something. Anyhow, the program told the story of a young, Russian peasant woman who, in the midst of the "tyranny of Communism," managed to raise two children and escape to the United States when they were around two and four, I'd estimate. In the US, they lived with an American friend, who had one daughter, who was a little older than the other two children. One day, the trio went to the beach to play, and the children began their fall from the purity they lived in (haha). The oldest girl, in her desire to influence her immigrant buddies, said, "Shit!" at some point.
The little boy did not know the word, and in his small, Russian-accented voice asked, "What ees sheet?'"
"It's what you say when you're mad," the girl replied. At this point, the narrator mentioned that this was the beginning of the corruption of the woman's two children; however, for the woman herself, life continued amazingly well. She climbed the social ladder, eventually achieving a very wealthy status, and she did it all on her own. Side note--I remember thinking that the girl in this part of the dream, the American girl, played much the same role that Angelica did in the cartoon "Rugrats."

The next scene of the documentary took place in a mall, at which they showed the Russian peasant-turned-aristocrat, dancing happily in and out of stores. Yes, she was dancing, bouncing around and smiling, like Mother Theresa in the "Food, Food!" scene of the Naked Gun. Eventually, the "camera" panned to the front of one particular shop, which said something with ridiculously long words on it; I'm not sure what it said, but, to give you an idea, it was something like, "Everythingyoucouldeverwantacopia." In pranced our heroine. Inside, I could see stacks of silver chains and golden jewelry, piled high. Although all I could see was metal (and this confused me), she emerged with a white silk gown, which she held up to herself while doing wild, happy kicks through the aisle. I'm not sure if it was before or after this (at another point at which I had seen the woman), but at some moment I remember looking carefully at her clothing, a gray woolen skirt that when down to her shins, heeled shoes, a white silk shirt, a blazer matching her skirt, and topping it all off, a gray beret over reddish hair, bunned tightly beneath the hat. The moment I looked at her outfit, I instantly recognized who she was...

Amelia Bedelia, of course!

Yes, the wonderful leading lady of so many children's books had skipped her way into human form and into my dreams as a Russian peasant who made her way. She pranced and spun down the mall's center aisle, still holding the white dress close, and the scene faded once again to her original home, a slummy apartment in Russia, before the PBS symbol took over the screen, ending the dream.

Dream #3
I'll shorten this one a bit...

The beginning of this dream consisted of many of my family members sitting on couches in a room, watching my baby cousin, Korinne, play on the floor. She was lying on a blanket and rolling around, crying, laughing, screaming, and all. Eventually, I decided to lay down next to her and play with her some. Our encounter started off normal. I would talk to her and make her laugh/scream/cry continually. I remember that every time she laughed, her mouth would erupt with spit that run down her face. That's disgusting, but it kept occurring. Eventually, I thought I would pretend to be asleep and then wake up suddenly to surprise and (yes, I wanted to do this) scare her. So, I did it the first time, and when I closed my eyes and pretended to sleep, I started smiling. It was then that things turned a little strange. At that moment, I realized that 9-month-old Korinne could fluently speak English.
"Nice try, Paul," she said. "I can see you smiling." She caught me. Nonetheless, I tried to scare her. She just laughed again, gargling volcanic spit. I vainly tried again and again but failed every time. Eventually, playtime ended and Korinne got up from the floor and walked (yes, walked), over to an alarm clock across the room. When she walked, she walked just like my brother Craig, hunched slightly and with a slight bounce. I'm not sure what she said as she crossed the room, but I know that when she spoke, she spoke in my brother Craig's voice. I was astounded, and then I awoke.

 
Well, today I have two days worth the dreams. I'll enter them as two separate entries, because if I put them in as one, it would be ridiculously long. I've been remembering tons and tons of dreams lately. Well, now that I look for the paper on which I jot my notes, I realize that I must have thrown one day's worth out with the trash yesterday, when I cleaned my room. I remember one of those. We'll start there.

A rather strange room in a rather strange home. I went down a rickety staircase into an enormous room. When I walked down to a certain point on the stairs, some floor slats blocked my view of the room...Let me try and explain this better...There were long pieces of wood spanning wall-to-wall, as they would beneath the floor of any room in a house, but in the room at the bottom of the stairs, they hung about two feel from the ceiling, such that when I passed them, the briefly blocked my view of the room. The room itself was long and wide, with dark-stained wooden floors and tables; it reminded me of a centuries-old pub. Across the room, I saw my friend Dan, and without inhibition, screamed across the room to get his attention. Apparently, neither of us wanted to speak in a normal tone of voice, so, from the stairs (I was behind the wooden slats), we yelled our conversation back and forth. I was trying to explain something to him, but every now and then he couldn't hear what I tried to say. Eventually, I grew frustrated with our shouting at one another, jumped off the staircase, and ran over to Dan, who was sitting in the corner of the room. Now, when I say sitting in the corner, I don't mean at a table. He was sitting--in the corner. Lining the walls of the room was a bar-like thing...I'm not sure how to describe it...on which Dan sat. We finished our conversation face-to-face (like normal people), throughout which we continued to scream--for no reason (like abnormal people).

At this point, I saw Joe Lin walk by in a large, down vest-jacket thing. He was carrying some things, and I wondered what brought him to this place. So, I told Dan I had to go and went after Joe. He came to the end of the room and went down another flight of stairs; they were steep and long and led to a dimly lit place below. He returned shortly thereafter, and we greeted each other.
"Hey Joe."
"Hey Paul, what's up?"
"Good to see you." We shook hands.
"Thank you," he said to the greeting and handshake. Why he thanked me is yet another unexplainable dream oddity. Anyhow...It turns out there was to be a "Cultures of the World" show in this room, and when I turned around, there were about thirty people crowding the room, each dressed for their respective cultures--long, flowing dresses and polka gowns, colorful robes--many cultures represented. I went to talk with a few other people and helped move some long, thin, wooden poles across the room for someone. I don't really recall much after that. Okay.