I think I am at school, maybe like the community college, but the buildings do not look familiar. I am inside and walking around. I see myself playing my violin and I am playing the Hungarian Dance # 5. I am doing very well, which surprises me because I had worked so hard on that piece as a child and made so many errors then. I am cautious of the places where I had trouble before, but manage to do them right this time. The audience loves me and is enthusiastic. Now I am done with that and walking to meet Bonnie. I go the wrong way and have to back track in to meet her by the elevators. On my way there, I go to a table where magazines and so on are. I pick up one that has the picture of me doing the Hungarian Dance solo on the cover. It was a special report edition. I don't look like me at all. I have short black hair framing my face. I feel a bit uncomfortable that I don't look like me, so how will people know that is me? At the same time, I am also pleased to be so prominently displayed. Now I am going down a road. I am in Russia, I think. Another woman and two men are sort of joining me. One man, very good-looking, likes me. He cooks something for me. I say something about how far I always seem to have to travel to get to the festival or whatever we are going to. I say, "And now, we're in Russia where everything is so far away from everything. If the festival were in the next city, it'd be a far distance to travel." The man hands me a grilled cheese sandwich with special cheese on the outside of it too. He grumbles a bit, teasing me, that I could have had the steak sandwich he made, but no, I didn't like that. I only liked the cheese. I nibble on the sandwich. It is tasty.