I don't remember where the dream started.  I was in a bookstore with my mother and my boyfriend Jeremy.  I stopped to look at a portrait on the wall of a man.  An old woman came up and told me it was her husband, and she started telling me about him.  He was some sort of engineer, but worked at some difficult job like a steel mill or something that you wouldn't think an old man would be capable of.  I asked the old woman when he'd get home from work.  She said he worked from 6 until 9, so it would be a while.  I went to look at a rack of greeting cards to get a birthday card for my mother, but then I saw my mother in the next aisle.  She asked if I was looking for a Mother's day card for the grandparents.  I went and talked to Jeremy for a moment, and then went back in the little room where the picture was.  This time it was different.  It had a man standing in front of a bathroom sink.  You could flip the middle segment so the man would be looking in the mirror, directly at you, or off to the side.  Later, some people told me the old woman was crazy.  If her husband were still alive he'd be over 200 years old.  At some point, Jeremy and I left the bookstore, and we were in some Asian country.  Jeremy was somewhat of my tour guide; he seemed to know a lot more than I did.  We walked up and down the street with food vendors.  I wanted some fried rice but I was warned about how spicy it would be...try the salad first.  The salad wasn't spicy, but when I went to try other things, the lady was busy.  I was also worried I didn't have enough money, but apparently things were like cents per item.  We took the bus to another part of town, across a sort of bridge.  In a sort of junkyard, there seemed to be a lot of cars around.  There were different flavors of ice, like slushies, all around the yard.  I went into a room looking for the flavor I wanted to try.  Jeremy and I went to the corner to sit down on a little mat, though, and we started to make love.  We heard a noise and were going to try and hide, but the owner came in.  She was not happy.  It might have been at this point when we became prisoners of a sort.  Back on the bus, following orders.  A loss of memory after that, but I recall riding on the bus, holding a letter addressed in Japanese.  I was sending some pictures to Jeremy's mother Harriet.  After a while I realized it was strange that it was addressed in Japanese, as she lives in the US.  Oh well, the pictures would go to Jeremy's grandparents, then.  Hopefully they would accept it.  I had trouble getting the envelope to seal correctly, though, and tried another envelope, which was also difficult.