It's Official...

I have the weirdest dreams of anyone I know. Here's a sampling from last night:

I was outside jogging with my dad when we passed most of the Johnson clan sitting on a hillside, apparently fishing although there was no water in sight. Dad got a wrong-number call on his cell phone which turned out to be my brother Todd's best friend from high school (who we haven't talked about or heard from in years). We jogged into a cave (a la Fire Swamp) at the end of a long path, which morphed into an old, rundown classroom.

I lost track of my dad at this point because Paul, Jill, Annie, Mark and I were crawling around under desks searching for a pair of dice and $20 that someone had lost there 20 years ago. The teacher said she had a pair of dice we could have as she kept showing us a spiral notebook, and I think it was me who said, "It's not the dice we're really after, it's the principle of the thing!" We starting peeling up carpet and floor boards and eventually found a whole mess of hidden compartments and a big room under the floor - someone said, "We better not tell President Hinckley about this." But no dice, so we left.

As we walked out of the classroom, we entered my parents' house and it was snowing outside. I realized I hadn't seen Matt in a while, so I went outside to the car to look for him. There was a minivan in the driveway with the engine running. I had a hard time getting the door open and somehow broke off the plastic piece that lets you open the back window. Inside was the youngest Johnson sibling (one who doesn't exist in real life), a girl named Holly, 11 or 12 years old, with blond hair and glasses. I asked her, "Have you been in here the whole hour and a half?" "Yes." "With the engine running?" "Yes." Still no Matt, though, so I started looking around and found him sitting in a snow drift writing in his journal. He hadn't been able to get into the car or the house and had been outside for 'the hour and a half' (?).

Enter an out-of-control Dodge Caravan, which came careening down the street and crashed by our neighbor's house. By the time we got over there to investigate, a self-propelled chain saw was cutting through stacks of tin cans like butter. (I don't know where the minivan went - maybe it turned into stacks of tin cans?) A crowd had gathered, and two men were bargaining over one of the cans. It was leaking some kind of ink. Matt reached out and touched the ink, and immediately his finger started to glow with this eerie blue light and he sprouted another finger on top of the first one. Next thing we knew, five or six other people were applying the ink, and the actress Geena Davis kept spreading it on her legs, growing more and more of them, and saying, "You like my legs, don't you?"

I know you think I'm making this up, but it's all true. And this is a pretty run-of-the-mill dream - I've had worse. I'm open to interpretations and probably in need of psychotherapy, if anyone is offering...