You are pretty sure you aren't awake.

When you next open your eyes, you instantly decide this has to be some kind of a dream. In your dream, what else could it be, you are lying in the dressing room and the only lights are some kind of backup lighting, a bright exit sign perhaps as the glow is tinted red. Sitting up you instantly become aware of just how odd this dream is. Yes this is a dressing room, but it isn't the one you passed out in, very similar, but not the same one. Standing up you find out another thing, in this dream you aren't you. You seem to have turned into a girl. Staring back at you in the dressing room mirror is a 20 something woman with coppery red brown hair styled into a wild pixie cut. It seems rather short but makes your somewhat long angular face look quite sexy. You seem to be quite thin, sort of a model like shape with some curve, nice perky breasts, maybe c cups, and long legs. You would guess maybe 5'6” and most likely just over 120 lbs or so. But without a lot of reference you can't be sure. You have nice lips, not extremely full but nice, a thin nose that turns up a bit at the tip and deep blue eyes. Turning you decide you have an amazing ass, if a bit small, that is nice and perky as well. The final truly odd thing is that you don't seem to be wearing a stitch of clothing and no makeup, it seems the only thing you do have, which is also a tiny bit odd considering the lack of anything else is a little bit of jewelry. You have two small hoop earrings, a barbell piercing in your navel, and a pair of silver rings on each hand.

“What a weird dream.” You say out loud, surprised at the sound of your voice. “Ooh, I sound sexy.” You laugh, higher than usual but not really high. “La, la, la, la.” Then lower, “Lu, lu, lu, lu.” Your voice has a bit of a musical quality that is pretty nice. With a laugh you decide, “Wow I could be a singer if I wanted to. What the fuck? Do I have an accent? That is just to strange.” Concentrating you say, “I am from America.” Sure enough the accent fades, you sound normal, but it seems so strange to have to think to fight off a bit of an accent you can't even quite place, Russian perhaps? “Looking closely at your longish thin fingers, then over your arms, legs, and softly caressing your torso you decide you must be from one of the former Soviet block nations. “This is just so strange.” Taking another moment to look around for anything that might help, you notice a small satchel like purse sitting on the ground that you are pretty sure wasn't there a moment ago, almost as if the act of looking for it caused it to come into being. Scooping it up you flip open the flap and look inside. It is pretty full but as you don't have anything else to do, you decide might as well empty it.

Looking inside you first pull out three little cases, the first holds several credit cards a drivers license, and about 100, the second is clear and is full of makeup, and the last is padded and holds a very cool looking digital camera, you aren't sure where you remember seeing it but you instantly know it is a Fuji x100s, in small pockets on that case are two extra memory cards and 3 batteries. Under the three cases the purse is basically stuffed with junk, about a dozen very old receipts, a small plastic lighter, a tiny bottle with 10 aspirin, two rather old looking but still wrapped tampons, 3 half full bottles of different brands of lotion, a half of a pack of spearmint gum, a pair of ink pens, a small pencil like you get at a mini golf course, a small spiral notebook that looks rather worn, a smart phone that seems to be out of batteries, a charger for it for either car or usb port, a little adapter so you could plug the usb end into an outlet, another charger you figure must be for the camera, a set of car keys, a credit card style motel room key, and last but not least, a rather sharp looking pocket knife with about a 5” blade.

Pulling out the first case you turn your attention to the drivers license, it seems to be yours, or rather whoever this would be if it was.... “I thought you couldn't read in a dream.” You say suddenly. Looking back at the card you see this bodies face, all long and pretty, with a name that the second you read it you get a weird flash almost like a memory, of sitting in the dmv taking this very photo. “Lola Vasilev. Why do I know that name?” You try to think of where you might have heard it before but other than this... “This is a dream right?” Pinching yourself doesn't do anything, other than hurt a bit. Putting the cards back into the little case, first checking at least according to the license you are 5'7” and 128lbs. Next you pull out the camera, but sadly the battery is dead. Swapping it out you soon discover all the batteries are dead, “Odd.” Next you search and soon find a plug, but after trying each charger it seems none of the batteries in either the phone or the camera will hold any charge, something seems to have burned them out. Looking down you then decide, dream or not, you might as well put on some clothing. Standing there in a department store you seem to have your pick of a ton of styles.