(9/30/08) wrong side of road; gurgling bathtub; maine and nevada

(Entered in paper journal at 6:17 AM on Q-train from Brooklyn to Manhattan.)

Dream #1

I was in a car being driven by my brother. We were driving along a snowy, rural road in the daytime. At one point we drove past an SR-71 mounted on a concrete platform. I was excited to see it. The cockpits were open. My brother and I looked back as we passed the jet, trying to get a deeper look.

When I looked forward, I saw that my brother had steered us into the other lane, and that we were about to run head-on into another car, probably a pickup truck. I told my brother to look forward and steer back into one lane. He did. I noticed there were a few cars on the road. We later turned onto another road, which may have led up a mountain.

Dream #2

I was in my house. I heard my bathtub gurgling. (It constantly did this in waking life, sending water from upstairs down into my bathtub.) I decided to go in and turn on the water to stop all the junk from popping up the drain again. I might have gone in and noticed nothing was going to start flooding up through the drain.

I headed into my hallway. The hallway was full of white, plastic and paper bags filled with trash. Some of the bags were almost as tall as I. I might have opened a bag and eaten something in it as I mulled over some thought.

The light in the house might have been orange and gold, like at sunrise or sunset.

Dream #3

I was looking at a huge picture book. I thought of the picture book as something like a map, showing places where I would go. I was turning the pages to get to my next destination which I knew was Maine.

But now I noticed my old friend R sitting beside me, to my left. I didn't want him to see and know my next destination. So I turned the pages slowly, hoping he'd lose interest and go away. But now he turned the pages quickly.

R turned past a page that interested me. I stopped him. I went back to the interesting page. It had a picture of two gigantic stones in the red sandstone desert. But the stones were actually two gigantic headstones. The photo was in sepia tones.

I felt like I had been to this place before. But I didn't want to remember it (or to face the thought of going there again) -- the headstones seemed so maddeningly frightening, like they could fall and smash you, even though they were already lying relatively flat to the ground.

I turned another page. It had a sepia photo of a desert canyon covered lightly in snow. I stopped at this photo and, hoping I could fool R, said, "Oh! Nevada! This is it! This is where I'm going!"