The Dream of November 28

Right. A bit of background information on this one:
I was about to head to bed shortly before four. Which, as it happened, was the time a bunch of really loud, and I mean REALLY LOUD, students decided that shouting and pounding on things that make noise was the way they wanted to spend the next two hours. Not particularly sleep-inducive and this was the first time I ever considered phoning the police on some of my fellow students. I didn't, though.
However, at some point I did fall asleep and I think I got about two hours out of it. Plenty of time for a dream, here we go:
I'm walking along this street in what appears to be the center of a reasonably-sized English town. It all looks very English, anyway. With me are Kit (who just last night accused me of not liking her anymore since she hasn't been featured in a dream for ages - well, here you are, Kit!), Julian (Kit's boyfriend, not sure if he's been in one before) and Louise. But not Louise from Norwich (which would have made more sense as we were on our way to a gig) - it was Louise from Jönköping.
Aaaaand... I'm pregnant (it's been a while since the last time, so I guess all is in order)! Not very though, like... 4-5 months into it. We're on our way to queue up for a gig by an unknown band, and across a big parking lot is the start of the queue. No one's there yet and it's a fairly warm day and the particular spot where it starts is in the shade, so I'm hurrying along to get there before someone else does. I'm feeling a bit... bloated by the pregnancy and start to complain about pregnancy stuff to Louise who agrees and gives me hints. Either she's pregnant too or has a kid in this dream, I guess. When we finally reach the queue point it's suddenly further up the street, in the sun, and there's one girl waiting there already. We hang around for a while before I decide to head across the street, to the Starbucks. The sun is causing me discomfort and I want an ice cold frappucino (with absolutely no trace of coffee in it) to keep cool. As soon as I decide to, the traffic becomes crazy, it's a small street but somehow people manage to drive like... nothing I've ever seen, all over the street, switching to the wrong sides, stopping for no reason and all kinds of things. When, finally, one car drives like a normal person, I watch it as it passes me and see that - you're not goin to believe this - there's a man sticking through it. Yes. Through it. As if the car backed into him at a violent speed and his head burrowed through the glass - without breaking it - and his body became stuck haflway through. Now his legs are sticking out and I can see that he's wearing those bright orange trousers that people working along the roads wear sometimes. After this, a few more cars pass by before I can cross the street. When I get there I can't find the entrance to Starbucks, but a group of three girly girls who're talking about coffee walk into a linen shop and I follow. Apparently you're supposed to walk up the stairs inside to get to Starbucks. But a woman in a green apron stops me before I manage it and informs me I can order from her. Not sure why I'm stopped, but I wildly stared around for a menu, knowing the frappucinos change every now and then and that it's been a while since I was there last. She gives me one and I locate a drink, but then I suddenly decide I want ice cream too (which apparently they have now). I'm struggling to choose and she hands me the phone on which she's talking to the person who's supposed to make me my frappucino - and that woman sounds annoyed at having to wait.
Now, I'm in a proper Starbucks (or, at least there are now tables and sofas and armchairs behind me, even if there's no proper counter), and the annoyed woman is standing in front of me. Apparently I'm not there alone anymore. John (my Frost*ie friend, for those not in the know) is standing next to me, patiently waiting for me to make my decision (much more patiently than the woman taking my order). I've finally located the ice cream and they've got some sort of "series" of ice creams to do with ice cream through the ages. For some reason one of them's named "IKEA" and feeling my forehead sweat under the stare of the annoyed Starbucks-employee I decide to go for that one. Even though I've no idea if that's the kind of ice cream I want.
John and I sit down for a bit and the woman returns with my order, saying something like "it's so late now that you won't have time to finish it here". I look around, confusedly, and there's a girl at the next table (another employee, probably on a break) who says I shouldn't listen to her, that she's just in a bad mood. Peering out through the window I can see that the line has grown now. Louise is no longer there, but Kit and Julian are being their normal selves; Kit is climbing Julian like a tree (I don't know if I've actually seen her do that, but it wouldn't surprise me if she did). She sort of falls over his shoulder and he catches her and puts her down on the ground again. Both of them are giggling. I point them out to John, who says: "So that's Kit? She looks really cuddly". I've no idea if one's supposed to describe people as looking cuddly, but it's a description that fits her really well.
I guess we keep talking a while longer, but I can't remember what we say after that. Then I wake up.

Who the hell would name an ice cream IKEA?