So, in the first half of the dream, I'm on a plane with my dad and my brother Doug [I can only assume we were on a plane] that somehow drops us off in Iraq.

Ooookaaaay.

So we're stuck in Iraq. We wander through distinctly non-Iraqi parking lots trying to find a car. We find one, and we jump in and take off. There is a sense of urgency here, as if we are being chased.

And chased we are, once we get into the now-stolen vehicle and zoom down the Iraqi streets. Eventually, we are cornered by the police. We get out of the car, and Dad is taken into custody. Doug and I manage to escape.

So now we're walking the Iraqi streets at night, and Dad is gone. I am constantly worried that I will be ostracized for being dressed like a Western woman, soI take to wearing a bandana over my hair so I look more "modest".

We go into a store to buy some food, and for some reason I place my wallet on the counter as I hand the money over. Once we exit the store [it has magically become daytime] I realize that my credit and debit cards are all gone.

I march back into the store and tell the clerk "Yeah, you're very skillful with the pilfering. Now give me back my credit cards." The clerk hands over a card and says that's all he took from us, and I believe him. Upon later inspection, the card ends up belonging to my brother. I guess I lost the other cards at the stores we visited earlier [because the dream has magically rewritten itself again.]

We decide to make our way to the only ATM we know about, which happens to be in the Tourist Square. It's this spot that is mysteriously non-Iraqi, with a distinct New England feel. Wandering about there are a bunch of white tourists. At this point I am wearing full Muslim-style drapey clothing and my "head scarf", so we're getting weird looks from everyone there.

Aaand then the dream changes. Somehow, I'm now shopping in Target.

I'm wandering around the pillows aisle when someone approaches me and says, "I'm trying to figure out what middle names (nicknames) are popular with professional basketball players. Do you have any ideas?"

I think for a moment, and a thought comes to me. "Of course! They can just ask my friend!" I take the individual to the electronics section, where I introduce them to my "friend."

"This is my friend Kobe. He plays basketball. Kobe, do you know anything about popular nicknames for the other players?"

Kobe Bryant turns to the "researcher" and begins talking to them. "Well, right now 'Martinique' is pretty popular..."

So. I'm sort of wondering if anyone knows any good psychotherapists in the Bay Area. ;)

(Seriously, though.... Kobe Bryant? I don't even *watch* basketball!)