I love my dreams. Sometimes I have a really good one. This was last night's: I was in "New Orleans," or some city like it. I was drawn to a run-down store whose name was "44," and I thought it was...I don't know...but it turned out to be a fabric and yarn store. The woman there gave me a straw hat, and was very nice. I noticed that a young, naked girl was there, perhaps as a clothing model, I had no idea. Suddenly, my father showed up, about 20 years younger than he is now. I was glad to see him; he was supposed to give me a place to stay. But I must have gone into the wrong building, because I looked out the window and saw only water, seething, bubbling water, with some large fish in it just under the surface. I didn't know if this was a normal part of "New Orleans," or a flood. Soon, my father said I should come over to HIS side of the building, since there was a place to stay there. However, there really wasn't; there were some different levels, and there was a transvestite type of person where I was supposed to sleep, all dressed up fancily; or maybe it was a leopard.