salt lake city, utah.
i'm sitting in our booth right now, someone around here has a wireless connection. all i can see looking straight ahead is rolling green hills, which are alive with the sound of Broadway Calls.
there are a lot of full-on scenekids at this show.. also a lot of dust. it's a GREAT venue but the kids have kicked up a lot of dust from the grass and i'm in flipflops so i feel dirty. eh. that's what baby wipes are for, right.
earlier today S performed surgery on my foot with a box cutter, pocket knife scissors and a pair of tweezers while i sat on top of the cooler and screamed. here's the thing - i very rarely put on shoes when we stop at gas stations or whatever. you're lucky if i'm wearing a bra, also. so this morning i woke up in the super-8 and my foot was killing me, the whole ball of my foot and once i cleaned off the grime with baby wipes i found that the source of the intense pain was a tiny black dot embedded under my skin. i tried squeezing it out with fingers and tweezers but nothing and it hurt so damn bad. So I asked S to get it for me because I just can't hurt myself, my reflexes automatically stop one. So she cut into my foot with a box cutter - the thing was healed in - and eventually got it out - it was a 3mm thorn and the second she pulled it out, the pain was completely relieved. what is with that? then i shaved my legs sitting on the cooler also.
later on, V informed me that my panties were showing - my old faithful favorite shorts, old cotton plaid ones, hand me downs from my cousins, probably 15 years old - had worn out at the ass. so i had two massive rips. win. i am now wearing a pair of Treaty of Paris booty shorts that say SWEET DREAMS SUCKER courtesy of Mike when he came to visit me. I am so not into the idea of him leaving the tour tomorrow.
oh and we had this rad conversations with two dudes about growing up Mormon.
mmm, dust in my lungs. see you later.
Saturday, June 28, 2008
all there is in utah is rocks it seems.
i am writing this from on top of a washing machine in a super-8 in Salt Lake City. Just driven from New Mexico. For 16 hours, all I saw was rocks. No joke. 16 hours of this:
it reminded me of the scenery in the cartoon film Cars.
anyway last night was the first HUGE tour bbq. mad fun. the aggrolites plugged in and played a bunch of awesome reggae and ska covers, people got up and sung with them... some fools were playing football with a water bottle they'd filled with dry ice, and when it finally exploded in their faces they all cheered... danny stevens (audition) tried to salsa with this girl and just couldn't get it together, so kevin lyman cut in and totally tore it up and danny was cracking up and telling him off for making him look bad... and my dear mike and i discussed pie.
it reminded me of the scenery in the cartoon film Cars.
anyway last night was the first HUGE tour bbq. mad fun. the aggrolites plugged in and played a bunch of awesome reggae and ska covers, people got up and sung with them... some fools were playing football with a water bottle they'd filled with dry ice, and when it finally exploded in their faces they all cheered... danny stevens (audition) tried to salsa with this girl and just couldn't get it together, so kevin lyman cut in and totally tore it up and danny was cracking up and telling him off for making him look bad... and my dear mike and i discussed pie.
Wednesday, June 25, 2008
punishers.
First video blog of the tour - I spent last night with the Farewell dudes having a nice civilized sit-out.. we didn't even get told off by the very present police patrol for drinking in public, that's how rowdy we were not. So I grabbed a mini interview with Marshall mid conversation.
eta: oh lol. on the way to the net-cafe bus to post this, I totally almost broke the above dude's nose with the door when he was trying to get onto our bus.
Still in Phoenix. It is HOT, HOT, HOT, HOT. Hotter than I've ever been probably. Everyone says this is the worst day of the tour.
eta: oh lol. on the way to the net-cafe bus to post this, I totally almost broke the above dude's nose with the door when he was trying to get onto our bus.
Still in Phoenix. It is HOT, HOT, HOT, HOT. Hotter than I've ever been probably. Everyone says this is the worst day of the tour.
who the fuck puts pepper on fries?
this is fucking long, apologies. a lot to say, no internet connection to update frequently with.
this blog was started 21st June: So I'm writing this on a highway somewhere in California and I'll post it when I get somewhere with internet access. We are meant to be in San Fransisco right now and we are most definitley NOT. One day in and we've already missed a show. There are a few people I'd like to punch right now, most predominantly our bus driver who is falling apart. More on that later. The others are playing a game called Apples to Apples but a couple of rounds in, I dropped out because they were not playing logically. For those who don't know, it's a game where you're dealt red cards with phrases, nouns, on them, and then another descriptive green card is dealt and everyone puts down one of their cards that they think most relates to the word, the winner of the previous round makes the judgment. And they weren't being logical about who won - I don't care about winning or losing, I am NOT competitive at all, but someone picked Mr Spock over Vladimir Lenin for the term 'successful' and someone else picked as the winner for effervescent 'corn dog' cause he thought it was funny. I just can't do that, call me stiff but it's not LOGICAL and I can't fucking stand it, so I dropped out of the game before I started getting angry. They all think I am fucking weird because of this but whatever.
So why are we not in San Fran, working? Well.
Last time I left you. I was waiting in the hotel for everyone to arrive. They did, a couple of hours later. I went down to the venue and met up with everyone. Beside the girl (V) and dude (D) that I've talked about, the Boss took on another girl, S, and also on our bus are two guys, Pablo and Josh, who are selling a clothing line, and also Mara, who is doing merch for Charlotte Sometimes AND... Clandestine. (flail, I know.) She's the one you have to report to for the FOE-to hunt that people are talking about. It's her first tour as well and she's awesome.
On the first night, our bus was parked 3 along from Cobra and therefore 4 along from TAI... so that was kind of weird and fun as I got to say hey to a lot of folks hanging outside their buses under their tents. There was a good vibe that first night, everyone putting up their tents and hanging out. Walked straight into Ryland's super tall chest right outside my bus and we were wearing the same damn plaid Urban Outfitters shirt in different shades, so that was a bit lol. And allegedly Alex can skateboard, which I never would have believed had I not seen in myself. So many people have bikes and boards and I wish there was room and money for me to have a bike - just a one speed cruiser like the ones I was riding at the beach in LA. I love them. I also made a bit of a dick of myself re: my camera.. for the last week the flash had not been working at all when the light was low. Even when it was on automatic, you could hold down the button and it just didn't take, it tried and blinked and nothing. I spent $40 on a cab to a repair shop in LA and they couldn't even look at it on the spot, their technician had gone home. So when I saw Jack TCG, (some of you already know what I think about Jack) I just thought 'oh fuck it, whatever, I'll ask him, what else am I gonna do?' and the second I put it in his hands and he tried it, IT WORKED AGAIN. And I'm just like '.... yeah, it was fucked for a week, how did you do that?' and he's all 'lol, show me when its broken again.' Facepalm.
So after we pack up the bus, cause the stuff was all over the parking lot D, V and I went back up to the hotel to shower, order food and sleep til 6am. We got pizza and met this dude in the lobby, Chris Brooklyn. He's done 6 years of Warped, he's a stage manager this year and, get this, he was the creator of Punk Rock Holocaust. If you've seen it, he shot and directed all of the daytime footage and was the one that got all the bands signed up. He bought us ice-cream sandwiches and hung in our hotel room for a few hours and told some mad stories and gave some mad advice about dealing with production - he thinks that I need to tell production the deal I've got with the Boss, and they will 'adjust' it because he thinks I'm getting screwed and that they have re-assigned crew to other people for much less shitty treatment. The production office are great at taking care of the crew, apparently. I kind of think I am being screwed, because of the terrible organization and naivety of the Boss, and also cause he's stingy bastard. Basically if he is charging me for a bus spot, he's obligated to pay me, and if I am to work for free, he should refund my bus money. He originally tried to make me pay over $1000 for catering, and I said flat out that I couldn't do that, and we've ALL ended up with catering anyway and I don't think that it was something that Boss is going to be charged with.. So it seems that money would have just gone into his pocket. Anyway, Brooklyn reckons it has to go one way or the other - get paid or get my bus money back - and if the Boss says no, I won't, Production will say, 'well, we have these jobs open, would you like to do one of those, N?' S is in the same boat and we're trying to work out how to approach it.
Anyway. After 4 hours sleeps, I woke up, completely awake in the mind, and we head down to start setting up. We were actually a little too early... I kind of imagined that we had to be all pitched by around 8, and it's really more like 10am, so I snagged some fruit from catering even though I didn't have my proper pass yet. The venue was in the middle of a race track and so we had to cross a big, soft dirt road, which is fun to wheel things through with only a broken, upright dolly - by the time the kids came in, it was covered with a nice board and plastic cover. Setting up was easier than I expected.. despite me having to create a table out of two garbage boxes that I found and a spare wire rack, covered with my bedsheet. I now have new sheets. The day went kind of fast. V kept saying 'oh, I have to go back, I don't feel like I've been sat in the booth long enough' cause it genuinely felt like not much time between breaks. It felt like I spent more time in the catering line than I did on the booth.il
points of the day:
+ the booth actually looking decent despite us not having ANYTHING like the kind of preparation a lot of the other stands had (not our fault, the Boss didn't know what was actually needed and we had no time to make him get it before the tour.)
- only selling two shirts the whole day, despite a lot of interest in the boards
+ seeing TAI... and Cobra side of stage
- the sound being AWFUL - was told later by about 4 different members of The Academy Of Cobra Starship Is... A Fucking Animal With Its Fangs Up about how shitty it was and how in-ears failed and no one had any levels correct. They were all so salty.
+ new TAI songs - well, Carden's guitar parts sounded good, that's about all I could hear
+ Alex playing keyboards, why did no one tell me about this in advance? waaahh, radness in solid form.
+ walking back from Cobra and totally having forgotten the Audiz were playing on this tour until I heard Don't Be So Hard and running over and seeing them playing out of the back of a truck.
- seeing fucking Jeffree Star EVERYWHERE I turned
+ seeing Mike from Treaty everywhere - I hung out with him randomly in Chicago and NYC this month and now he's here til Denver.
+ Boss's friend, Magic Mike, taking pity on the situation and trying to help us out and buy us things and make the Boss get organized.
+ lots of excited hellos, hugs and high fives from people who I was slightly worried would question me being there. I'm a huge fan of a few bands on this tour - I think everyone here, all 600, is a fan of at least one other band unless they're a jaded asshole - but a couple of these bands, they know me from shows, as a full on, line-up-for-shows, get-a-setlist-signed FAN. For the record, I started trying to work Warped 08, looking at sponsors and non-profits, before the lineup was even announced. They're not why I'm here. I just have to make that clear, because I will probably talk about them a lot here, but I was worried that they/others would be all 'um, are you just here to follow us around?. Anyway. They don't seem to think that. Ace.
+ meeting Travis McCoy and finally getting to say how proud I am of him for his recent treatment. Cause seriously. Go read his blog.
+ Fucking fruit sorbets at catering - SERVED IN THE FRUIT AS A BOWL. Pineapple inside half a pineapple. Orange inside a scooped out orange. ETC. What the hell.
- hands feeling and being constantly dirtier than ever before
- being salty with sweat
+ not actually giving a shit or feeling like I was gross
-/+ catering lines - fucking long and tedious but you talk to everyone so much.
-/+ Chris Crocker being in catering. I actually thought 'fuck, that girl looks like Chris Crocker.' but it was actually him.
Basically. The day finishes, Magic Mike makes a list of all the gear we need (crates, a 4-wheel dolly, tables, pens, cashbox, tape, erasable board, everything) and makes a plan to get us to Walmart or Home Depot. We walk around a bit, and finally end up back on our shag-wagon. I lie down and try go to sleep and pretty soon I realise we're not going anywhere. Bus call was 10pm. It was a 9 hour drive to San Francisco. AND THE FUCKING, FUCKING BUS WAS OUT OF GAS. Here's where the rage starts. WE HAD BEEN THERE FOR OVER 24 HOURS AND THE DRIVER KNEW WE WERE OUT OF GAS AND DIDN'T THINK TO TELL ANYONE. HE ALSO SLEPT ALL DAY WITH THE AIR CON ON WHICH ATE THE LAST FEW DROPS SO WE COULD NOT EVEN GET TO A GAS STATION. Magic Mike drove to get some in a can, came back, but because the bus had been empty so long, everything was DEAD. I don't drive but I think they had to change filters and all this stuff, and then the battery died? I'm not exactly sure of the technical difficulties but basically at about 1am I accepted that we were not going to the next show and fell asleep inside the sauna of a bus. Woke up and went to take a shower, and there was a mechanic just finishing up. The bus driver, who is this old, falling apart guy with a weird-ass Southern accent. (seen TAITV? 'Beelll!! Git yur dawwggg!!' - like that but worse) and I think he may be blind or mentally retarded. He called S out of bed the other day cause he couldnt plug his phone charger into his phone. Anyway as I was going back on, he was like 'we maght hev to stay heer til toosday' and 5 minutes later the mechanic actually fixes the bus. Boss then asks if I could put it on my credit card and he'll pay me back later and let me just say the answer to that is HELL NO. I've been told by someone else that he doesn't even have a bank account, let alone a card of his own. Anyway I just said I didn't have enough on my card, which is true, but still.
So. So. The bus works. We roll out of there and about 5 minutes down the highway, it stops again. Purely from overheating. As I said, this thing was not meant to tour, and yeah, it just stopped. It started again and we rolled into this parking lot by a Target and Chilis where Boss made the decision to call and get his old bus brought and use that until we get the repaired Prevost next week. So we all just fuck off to get lunch and shop at Target. When I get in a bad mood or stressed I tend to be a bitch to service people, and at lunch they brought my food and I was like 'uh, is there pepper on these fries?' they say yes, and I thrust them back at him and just say 'no. can't eat that. get me fresh ones.' and as he walks off I'm just like 'who the fuck puts pepper on fries?' I still agree with that sentiment - like, sure you can put pepper if you want, but who serves fries already with pepper on them? Why would you do that? The other bus arrives and we transfer all the gear, which took a while and it was FUCKING hot. Finally we leave in the new bus - an old, gutted coach with a few sets of seats, two fold out couches and a mattress. Pretty ghetto but a lot more space. We drive straight on to Ventura, CA and arrive at about sunset. Park in the outside lot of the venue where Magic Mike is waiting for us - his son lives right across on the beach so we go to his house, swim in the pool, do laundry, and go out and get the most fantastic pizza in existance. In the boot of his car, it was like... merch girl Christmas. Tables, crates, dollies, signs, pens, it was insane. S almost started to cry in gratitude - it was what we KNEW we needed but what Boss had not organized at all.
Written right now: Ventura show the next day was completely amazing. Sold a lot, the band sets I saw were incredible... fucking KATY PERRY, this girl rocks my world right now. Oreska Band - Japanese ska band, all girls, also fucking amazing... I saw my Bel who is over here visiting and we watched The Academy together... I shot Cobra from the photo pit and then went into the crowd - they brought out water guns and Alex spotted me at one point, I flipped him off and he shot me straight in the face. Oh lol. I met Joe Trohman from Fall Out Boy, he was there watching the TAI set and we talked when we were kicked off the side of stage during the last song. Also got another boost of confidence re: them not minding me being a huge fangirl - waved hi at Adam as I was running off after their set to break down my tent, I was all 'see you later that was awesome i have to go yeah' and he's like 'of course, come talk any time!!!' so yes. Discussed the new album and the Aussie PATD tour with Michael before their set, which is just exciting, and all in all it was a very good day, re: the job, re: the bands and re: hanging out with Bel. After the show bus call was 1am so there were a lot of gatherings in the parking lot and Bel came found my bus and we snuggled, chatted and snuggled with a few others including a very drunk and sweet Gabriel - call me a complete fangirl but I love the way he calls people 'girl' and 'baby' in a totally non-sleazy way. Guy's got charisma oozing out his ears, he was born to be famous. I'm not even starstruck by him, there's just something about him that people pay attention to.
Anyway, I'm in Phoenix now. We had two off days which could have been more enjoyable than they were, but whatever. It is so hot here that I think I am going to die. I'm in the net centre that GuitarLab has provided for us, on a break... mmm, air conditioning. Last night we parked in the driveway of the venue cause we couldnt get in til 6am, and had a sit-out with Farewell and Tat. Fucking best and funniest conversation I have had in a long time, with Marshall and Will from Farewell, about 'punishers.' I'm not even going to try explain it here, but oh man. Will knew Awkward Turtle as well and so we loled, and Tat's merch girl put pink dye in a bunch of people's hair.
First video interview soon, a short one with Marshall from last night. Also will post some pics ASAP. Let me see what I got for you right now...
this blog was started 21st June: So I'm writing this on a highway somewhere in California and I'll post it when I get somewhere with internet access. We are meant to be in San Fransisco right now and we are most definitley NOT. One day in and we've already missed a show. There are a few people I'd like to punch right now, most predominantly our bus driver who is falling apart. More on that later. The others are playing a game called Apples to Apples but a couple of rounds in, I dropped out because they were not playing logically. For those who don't know, it's a game where you're dealt red cards with phrases, nouns, on them, and then another descriptive green card is dealt and everyone puts down one of their cards that they think most relates to the word, the winner of the previous round makes the judgment. And they weren't being logical about who won - I don't care about winning or losing, I am NOT competitive at all, but someone picked Mr Spock over Vladimir Lenin for the term 'successful' and someone else picked as the winner for effervescent 'corn dog' cause he thought it was funny. I just can't do that, call me stiff but it's not LOGICAL and I can't fucking stand it, so I dropped out of the game before I started getting angry. They all think I am fucking weird because of this but whatever.
So why are we not in San Fran, working? Well.
Last time I left you. I was waiting in the hotel for everyone to arrive. They did, a couple of hours later. I went down to the venue and met up with everyone. Beside the girl (V) and dude (D) that I've talked about, the Boss took on another girl, S, and also on our bus are two guys, Pablo and Josh, who are selling a clothing line, and also Mara, who is doing merch for Charlotte Sometimes AND... Clandestine. (flail, I know.) She's the one you have to report to for the FOE-to hunt that people are talking about. It's her first tour as well and she's awesome.
On the first night, our bus was parked 3 along from Cobra and therefore 4 along from TAI... so that was kind of weird and fun as I got to say hey to a lot of folks hanging outside their buses under their tents. There was a good vibe that first night, everyone putting up their tents and hanging out. Walked straight into Ryland's super tall chest right outside my bus and we were wearing the same damn plaid Urban Outfitters shirt in different shades, so that was a bit lol. And allegedly Alex can skateboard, which I never would have believed had I not seen in myself. So many people have bikes and boards and I wish there was room and money for me to have a bike - just a one speed cruiser like the ones I was riding at the beach in LA. I love them. I also made a bit of a dick of myself re: my camera.. for the last week the flash had not been working at all when the light was low. Even when it was on automatic, you could hold down the button and it just didn't take, it tried and blinked and nothing. I spent $40 on a cab to a repair shop in LA and they couldn't even look at it on the spot, their technician had gone home. So when I saw Jack TCG, (some of you already know what I think about Jack) I just thought 'oh fuck it, whatever, I'll ask him, what else am I gonna do?' and the second I put it in his hands and he tried it, IT WORKED AGAIN. And I'm just like '.... yeah, it was fucked for a week, how did you do that?' and he's all 'lol, show me when its broken again.' Facepalm.
So after we pack up the bus, cause the stuff was all over the parking lot D, V and I went back up to the hotel to shower, order food and sleep til 6am. We got pizza and met this dude in the lobby, Chris Brooklyn. He's done 6 years of Warped, he's a stage manager this year and, get this, he was the creator of Punk Rock Holocaust. If you've seen it, he shot and directed all of the daytime footage and was the one that got all the bands signed up. He bought us ice-cream sandwiches and hung in our hotel room for a few hours and told some mad stories and gave some mad advice about dealing with production - he thinks that I need to tell production the deal I've got with the Boss, and they will 'adjust' it because he thinks I'm getting screwed and that they have re-assigned crew to other people for much less shitty treatment. The production office are great at taking care of the crew, apparently. I kind of think I am being screwed, because of the terrible organization and naivety of the Boss, and also cause he's stingy bastard. Basically if he is charging me for a bus spot, he's obligated to pay me, and if I am to work for free, he should refund my bus money. He originally tried to make me pay over $1000 for catering, and I said flat out that I couldn't do that, and we've ALL ended up with catering anyway and I don't think that it was something that Boss is going to be charged with.. So it seems that money would have just gone into his pocket. Anyway, Brooklyn reckons it has to go one way or the other - get paid or get my bus money back - and if the Boss says no, I won't, Production will say, 'well, we have these jobs open, would you like to do one of those, N?' S is in the same boat and we're trying to work out how to approach it.
Anyway. After 4 hours sleeps, I woke up, completely awake in the mind, and we head down to start setting up. We were actually a little too early... I kind of imagined that we had to be all pitched by around 8, and it's really more like 10am, so I snagged some fruit from catering even though I didn't have my proper pass yet. The venue was in the middle of a race track and so we had to cross a big, soft dirt road, which is fun to wheel things through with only a broken, upright dolly - by the time the kids came in, it was covered with a nice board and plastic cover. Setting up was easier than I expected.. despite me having to create a table out of two garbage boxes that I found and a spare wire rack, covered with my bedsheet. I now have new sheets. The day went kind of fast. V kept saying 'oh, I have to go back, I don't feel like I've been sat in the booth long enough' cause it genuinely felt like not much time between breaks. It felt like I spent more time in the catering line than I did on the booth.il
points of the day:
+ the booth actually looking decent despite us not having ANYTHING like the kind of preparation a lot of the other stands had (not our fault, the Boss didn't know what was actually needed and we had no time to make him get it before the tour.)
- only selling two shirts the whole day, despite a lot of interest in the boards
+ seeing TAI... and Cobra side of stage
- the sound being AWFUL - was told later by about 4 different members of The Academy Of Cobra Starship Is... A Fucking Animal With Its Fangs Up about how shitty it was and how in-ears failed and no one had any levels correct. They were all so salty.
+ new TAI songs - well, Carden's guitar parts sounded good, that's about all I could hear
+ Alex playing keyboards, why did no one tell me about this in advance? waaahh, radness in solid form.
+ walking back from Cobra and totally having forgotten the Audiz were playing on this tour until I heard Don't Be So Hard and running over and seeing them playing out of the back of a truck.
- seeing fucking Jeffree Star EVERYWHERE I turned
+ seeing Mike from Treaty everywhere - I hung out with him randomly in Chicago and NYC this month and now he's here til Denver.
+ Boss's friend, Magic Mike, taking pity on the situation and trying to help us out and buy us things and make the Boss get organized.
+ lots of excited hellos, hugs and high fives from people who I was slightly worried would question me being there. I'm a huge fan of a few bands on this tour - I think everyone here, all 600, is a fan of at least one other band unless they're a jaded asshole - but a couple of these bands, they know me from shows, as a full on, line-up-for-shows, get-a-setlist-signed FAN. For the record, I started trying to work Warped 08, looking at sponsors and non-profits, before the lineup was even announced. They're not why I'm here. I just have to make that clear, because I will probably talk about them a lot here, but I was worried that they/others would be all 'um, are you just here to follow us around?. Anyway. They don't seem to think that. Ace.
+ meeting Travis McCoy and finally getting to say how proud I am of him for his recent treatment. Cause seriously. Go read his blog.
+ Fucking fruit sorbets at catering - SERVED IN THE FRUIT AS A BOWL. Pineapple inside half a pineapple. Orange inside a scooped out orange. ETC. What the hell.
- hands feeling and being constantly dirtier than ever before
- being salty with sweat
+ not actually giving a shit or feeling like I was gross
-/+ catering lines - fucking long and tedious but you talk to everyone so much.
-/+ Chris Crocker being in catering. I actually thought 'fuck, that girl looks like Chris Crocker.' but it was actually him.
Basically. The day finishes, Magic Mike makes a list of all the gear we need (crates, a 4-wheel dolly, tables, pens, cashbox, tape, erasable board, everything) and makes a plan to get us to Walmart or Home Depot. We walk around a bit, and finally end up back on our shag-wagon. I lie down and try go to sleep and pretty soon I realise we're not going anywhere. Bus call was 10pm. It was a 9 hour drive to San Francisco. AND THE FUCKING, FUCKING BUS WAS OUT OF GAS. Here's where the rage starts. WE HAD BEEN THERE FOR OVER 24 HOURS AND THE DRIVER KNEW WE WERE OUT OF GAS AND DIDN'T THINK TO TELL ANYONE. HE ALSO SLEPT ALL DAY WITH THE AIR CON ON WHICH ATE THE LAST FEW DROPS SO WE COULD NOT EVEN GET TO A GAS STATION. Magic Mike drove to get some in a can, came back, but because the bus had been empty so long, everything was DEAD. I don't drive but I think they had to change filters and all this stuff, and then the battery died? I'm not exactly sure of the technical difficulties but basically at about 1am I accepted that we were not going to the next show and fell asleep inside the sauna of a bus. Woke up and went to take a shower, and there was a mechanic just finishing up. The bus driver, who is this old, falling apart guy with a weird-ass Southern accent. (seen TAITV? 'Beelll!! Git yur dawwggg!!' - like that but worse) and I think he may be blind or mentally retarded. He called S out of bed the other day cause he couldnt plug his phone charger into his phone. Anyway as I was going back on, he was like 'we maght hev to stay heer til toosday' and 5 minutes later the mechanic actually fixes the bus. Boss then asks if I could put it on my credit card and he'll pay me back later and let me just say the answer to that is HELL NO. I've been told by someone else that he doesn't even have a bank account, let alone a card of his own. Anyway I just said I didn't have enough on my card, which is true, but still.
So. So. The bus works. We roll out of there and about 5 minutes down the highway, it stops again. Purely from overheating. As I said, this thing was not meant to tour, and yeah, it just stopped. It started again and we rolled into this parking lot by a Target and Chilis where Boss made the decision to call and get his old bus brought and use that until we get the repaired Prevost next week. So we all just fuck off to get lunch and shop at Target. When I get in a bad mood or stressed I tend to be a bitch to service people, and at lunch they brought my food and I was like 'uh, is there pepper on these fries?' they say yes, and I thrust them back at him and just say 'no. can't eat that. get me fresh ones.' and as he walks off I'm just like 'who the fuck puts pepper on fries?' I still agree with that sentiment - like, sure you can put pepper if you want, but who serves fries already with pepper on them? Why would you do that? The other bus arrives and we transfer all the gear, which took a while and it was FUCKING hot. Finally we leave in the new bus - an old, gutted coach with a few sets of seats, two fold out couches and a mattress. Pretty ghetto but a lot more space. We drive straight on to Ventura, CA and arrive at about sunset. Park in the outside lot of the venue where Magic Mike is waiting for us - his son lives right across on the beach so we go to his house, swim in the pool, do laundry, and go out and get the most fantastic pizza in existance. In the boot of his car, it was like... merch girl Christmas. Tables, crates, dollies, signs, pens, it was insane. S almost started to cry in gratitude - it was what we KNEW we needed but what Boss had not organized at all.
Written right now: Ventura show the next day was completely amazing. Sold a lot, the band sets I saw were incredible... fucking KATY PERRY, this girl rocks my world right now. Oreska Band - Japanese ska band, all girls, also fucking amazing... I saw my Bel who is over here visiting and we watched The Academy together... I shot Cobra from the photo pit and then went into the crowd - they brought out water guns and Alex spotted me at one point, I flipped him off and he shot me straight in the face. Oh lol. I met Joe Trohman from Fall Out Boy, he was there watching the TAI set and we talked when we were kicked off the side of stage during the last song. Also got another boost of confidence re: them not minding me being a huge fangirl - waved hi at Adam as I was running off after their set to break down my tent, I was all 'see you later that was awesome i have to go yeah' and he's like 'of course, come talk any time!!!' so yes. Discussed the new album and the Aussie PATD tour with Michael before their set, which is just exciting, and all in all it was a very good day, re: the job, re: the bands and re: hanging out with Bel. After the show bus call was 1am so there were a lot of gatherings in the parking lot and Bel came found my bus and we snuggled, chatted and snuggled with a few others including a very drunk and sweet Gabriel - call me a complete fangirl but I love the way he calls people 'girl' and 'baby' in a totally non-sleazy way. Guy's got charisma oozing out his ears, he was born to be famous. I'm not even starstruck by him, there's just something about him that people pay attention to.
Anyway, I'm in Phoenix now. We had two off days which could have been more enjoyable than they were, but whatever. It is so hot here that I think I am going to die. I'm in the net centre that GuitarLab has provided for us, on a break... mmm, air conditioning. Last night we parked in the driveway of the venue cause we couldnt get in til 6am, and had a sit-out with Farewell and Tat. Fucking best and funniest conversation I have had in a long time, with Marshall and Will from Farewell, about 'punishers.' I'm not even going to try explain it here, but oh man. Will knew Awkward Turtle as well and so we loled, and Tat's merch girl put pink dye in a bunch of people's hair.
First video interview soon, a short one with Marshall from last night. Also will post some pics ASAP. Let me see what I got for you right now...
Thursday, June 19, 2008
sheraton.
So the boss has pulled a TOTAL Boss on me, the worst one yet. Was meant to get picked up today from my hostel in South Bay, LA, to head out to the first date at Pomona. I get a call at like 10am asking if I can look into getting a greyhound there and meeting them there as they were late and had some more car trouble. (with the shag wagon they used to replace the actual bus) I'm just like 'fine, whatever' - I just wanted to get onto the site. So I catch a $60 cab to the station (I fucking HATE Los Angeles, the cabs are just one reason) and then a $13 bus to Claremont. Then another cab about 4 miles along to the Warped site. I get dropped off with my bags, and head to production to ask what the fuck to do with myself.
I explained the situation 'hey, my boss is somewhere between here and Vegas. he said to meet him here and he's not arrived. WTF do i do?' and they let me leave my bags there until they close up - (5pm due to a graduation going on nearby) and issue me with a temporary laminate, it's a VIP Guest pass which will let me anywhere I need to go, not a working pass. Now that the production office is closed, he will need to take us all in tomorrow morning to get the actual working passes. The girls were super helpful and I met some people who's names have sort of been Big to me for a while - Keri Lee, Lisa Brownlee, and I was in the presence of the Lyman, though didn't talk to him.
Wandered around a bit. Saw a handful of people that I know, avoided one, said hi to a few, very stoked to see Carden and Alex. Casper is here too which is rad, I thought he wouldn't be here til JM get here but he must be looking after Treaty of Paris - I want to go find Mike from Treaty tonight, he's a dear. I sat in on the pre-tour production meeting, which was cool and informative. The funny thing about this situation is that I've never been in it before, but it doesn't feel like that at all. It doesn't even feel exciting, it feels normal, and I view that as a really good thing.
At 5pm production was closing so I had to find something to do with myself and my bags, I pretty much thought the only option available was sitting out on my luggage in the parking lot until the bus arrives - which I seriously bet won't be til LATE - but Keri gave me a keycard for one of the spare shower rooms at the Sheraton Hotel that's on the same complex. They had a bunch of extra rooms for people to use and so I got in the shuttle with all the production girls (including Sierra Lyman, who is probably 14 at most but could tour manage a major band from the way she talks, she works for her dad every summer) and now I am sitting in this fucking big SUITE - like it's a mini-apartment - in the Sheraton. I have it all to myself. It's lonely. I wish the crew was here.
There's shuttles starting at 8pm to the kick-off party back in Claremont. I really want to go but I seriously have no idea where my bus, crew and boss are, or when they're gonna get here, or if they want me to join them immediately when they get here. But really. Pre-tour party.
So confused, and mildly fearing they won't get here by the time we roll out tomorrow night, but I feel great. Sunburnt already, but as I've said.. this just feels normal and I'm so stoked about that fact.
I explained the situation 'hey, my boss is somewhere between here and Vegas. he said to meet him here and he's not arrived. WTF do i do?' and they let me leave my bags there until they close up - (5pm due to a graduation going on nearby) and issue me with a temporary laminate, it's a VIP Guest pass which will let me anywhere I need to go, not a working pass. Now that the production office is closed, he will need to take us all in tomorrow morning to get the actual working passes. The girls were super helpful and I met some people who's names have sort of been Big to me for a while - Keri Lee, Lisa Brownlee, and I was in the presence of the Lyman, though didn't talk to him.
Wandered around a bit. Saw a handful of people that I know, avoided one, said hi to a few, very stoked to see Carden and Alex. Casper is here too which is rad, I thought he wouldn't be here til JM get here but he must be looking after Treaty of Paris - I want to go find Mike from Treaty tonight, he's a dear. I sat in on the pre-tour production meeting, which was cool and informative. The funny thing about this situation is that I've never been in it before, but it doesn't feel like that at all. It doesn't even feel exciting, it feels normal, and I view that as a really good thing.
At 5pm production was closing so I had to find something to do with myself and my bags, I pretty much thought the only option available was sitting out on my luggage in the parking lot until the bus arrives - which I seriously bet won't be til LATE - but Keri gave me a keycard for one of the spare shower rooms at the Sheraton Hotel that's on the same complex. They had a bunch of extra rooms for people to use and so I got in the shuttle with all the production girls (including Sierra Lyman, who is probably 14 at most but could tour manage a major band from the way she talks, she works for her dad every summer) and now I am sitting in this fucking big SUITE - like it's a mini-apartment - in the Sheraton. I have it all to myself. It's lonely. I wish the crew was here.
There's shuttles starting at 8pm to the kick-off party back in Claremont. I really want to go but I seriously have no idea where my bus, crew and boss are, or when they're gonna get here, or if they want me to join them immediately when they get here. But really. Pre-tour party.
So confused, and mildly fearing they won't get here by the time we roll out tomorrow night, but I feel great. Sunburnt already, but as I've said.. this just feels normal and I'm so stoked about that fact.
Tuesday, June 17, 2008
introducing the shag-wagon
so last night, i'm lying in my hostel in LA and checking myspace and there's a bulletin from one of the boys on my crew - he's out with our boss at the moment, has been with him since the start of the month getting merch organized and picking up the bus from texas. apparently it used to belong to leanne rimes. whatev. anyway, this bulletin:
our engine just blew up. what the mother fucking gods holy jesus im sorry but we are royally fucked
.....
.................
yeah. i know. I KNOW.
so i message him being like WTF WTF WHERE ARE YOU, ARE YOU OKAY and he's all 'we're fine, please don't tell Boss [for the moment i may leave out names] I posted this, we're getting it worked out we're fine' and i'm like, dude i'm not going to tell him what you posted on your private myspace,, and he writes back "but trust me he just got really mad at me for posting that dont talk to him ABOUT IT im sorry to alarm you nothing is wrong please dont"
so as odd as this is, i try to calm him down and promise i'll pretend that i never heard about the bus trouble and not bring it up at all. he just blogged saying that we will be using a 'limo bus' for the first week until ours is repaired... and upon googling, this is what i can find:
outside:
inside:
.... knowing my boss, we'll end up doing the whole tour in this shag-wagon. My girl and I (for now I shall call the above mentioned dude The Boy and my lovely foreign girl on the crew with me The Girl... maybe I'll introduce them later, depends if they're bothered and if anyone's actually reading this...' anyway the Girl and I have already coined the term 'pulling a Boss'... she just called me saying 'Boss has pulled a Boss on me'.
all I can do is laugh right now. oh well. that shag-wagon will get us on the road at least.
our engine just blew up. what the mother fucking gods holy jesus im sorry but we are royally fucked
.....
.................
yeah. i know. I KNOW.
so i message him being like WTF WTF WHERE ARE YOU, ARE YOU OKAY and he's all 'we're fine, please don't tell Boss [for the moment i may leave out names] I posted this, we're getting it worked out we're fine' and i'm like, dude i'm not going to tell him what you posted on your private myspace,, and he writes back "but trust me he just got really mad at me for posting that dont talk to him ABOUT IT im sorry to alarm you nothing is wrong please dont"
so as odd as this is, i try to calm him down and promise i'll pretend that i never heard about the bus trouble and not bring it up at all. he just blogged saying that we will be using a 'limo bus' for the first week until ours is repaired... and upon googling, this is what i can find:
outside:
inside:
.... knowing my boss, we'll end up doing the whole tour in this shag-wagon. My girl and I (for now I shall call the above mentioned dude The Boy and my lovely foreign girl on the crew with me The Girl... maybe I'll introduce them later, depends if they're bothered and if anyone's actually reading this...' anyway the Girl and I have already coined the term 'pulling a Boss'... she just called me saying 'Boss has pulled a Boss on me'.
all I can do is laugh right now. oh well. that shag-wagon will get us on the road at least.
Monday, June 16, 2008
prologue.
three months ago....
"Hello? Hello? HEY!!" I yell as I hear voices and footsteps pass me by. I slam on the door with my open hand, but.. nothing. I sit down on the pale, dusty concrete steps 60 floors above the city and pull out my phone.
"Good Morning, welcome to the office of the American Consulate."
"Um, hi. This is going to sound really weird, but I'm meant to have a visa interview at 9am and I'm stuck in your fire escape.."
You see, this never would have happened if American tourist visas were valid for four, not three months. Or if The Bamboozle festival fell on the first weekend of June, in SUMMER, rather than May, like a good parking lot festival should be. Or you could take it another step further and say it never would have happened if I hadn't discovered Pete Wentz's blogs through an old online friend from Chicago, and fallen so deeply in love with this scene that I do anything to immerse myself in it at all times. Another step, and if Kevin Lyman had a change of heart and had become an accountant or a chef, and never started his festivals, I wouldn't have this deep-seated need to fulfill the rocker-kid's version of running away to join the circus: working the summer on the Vans Warped Tour.
You could blame me being stuck in the fire escape on many, many things: the song Holiday from Real by Jack's Mannequin, the film Almost Famous, the song 7 Weeks by Gym Class Heroes, Tim Towner from The Daily Chorus for writing such an inspiring blog about noobs who want to work Warped. Blame my friends Dave, Joe, Ali, and Alex, who all work in touring in the USA, for pelting me with advice and being so really, really ridiculously encouraging about me even making this mad attempt. (For those just tuning in, I'm not from the States, and I flew over in April without anything close to a 100% guarantee of a job.) You could blame the ANZ bank for granting me a loan, for some unfathomable reason. ('Who would give me a gun?' - That 70's Show, anyone?) But when it really comes down to it, the only reason I am stuck in the fire escape is because I am stupid and thought I knew better than the general universe. This is what happened.
I ran up the outer stairs and into the skyscraper lobby. It was the type to have separate elevators to different sections of the building, and I quickly jumped in the one marked 47 - 68, checking the time as I go. 8:40. My appointment at the American Consulate to apply for a year-long visa (regular tourist visa is 90 days) but I'd been told to arrive half an hour early for "screening". I pressed the button for floor 59 and it refused to light up. I tried it again, with the same result, but at this point the lift had taken off and was climbing fast. I got off at the next selectable floor - 61 - and came out in a lobby servicing a few different offices. I found a secretary and asked why the lift wouldn't stop at floor 59. She had no idea, but directed me back down to the ground floor to ask the main building reception. I ask if there are any fire stairs I can use as I just need to go one floor, and she once again directs me back down 60 floors to the lobby. Dude, my interview is in 14 minutes, at this point. I have to be screened. Warped Tour. I looked around for someone to give me advice that I would like a bit more, when I spotted a lovely green exit arrow sign. I follow it and find an emergency exit. Despite it proclaiming a $1000 fine for obstruction, I push it open and trot down the two flights to find the door for floor 59. Firmly locked from the outside. I start to panic a little - 'the fire stairs in Chatswood Westfield car park are never locked!' I try the doors on the floors above and below, with the same result. This is when I start freaking out pretty badly. Have you ever been physically trapped? It created a panic in me that definitely was not conscious. It was mindless terror and I was sweating into my navy blue polyester work blouse.
I pull out my phone and step up and down until I find a bar of signal - i am trapped in a fire escape 60 floors up. think i am going to die. I text to my roommate and a couple of friends. I try pounding and pounding on the door with no result, and that's when I call the office. They respond like they think I'm either a terrorist or the biggest moron alive. Apparently, I was meant to report to floor 10 for SECURITY screening, then get sent up to floor 59 in a special elevator. Duh. American government offices. They send some security guards to come get me - at this point I'm physically shaking and very white - and those dudes just pretty much laugh at me. By then, I had missed my appointment and also could barely stand upright, so I just left the building, after some lady told me I had white all over my ass - from the concrete dust in the fire escape.
The funny thing is, when I came back a few days later, the security guard remembered me, yet they still GAVE ME THE VISA. Clearly they figured that I wasn't trying to sneak in with a bomb, and that I was dumb enough not to do any damage to their country.
Well... we'll see about that. Heh.
"Hello? Hello? HEY!!" I yell as I hear voices and footsteps pass me by. I slam on the door with my open hand, but.. nothing. I sit down on the pale, dusty concrete steps 60 floors above the city and pull out my phone.
"Good Morning, welcome to the office of the American Consulate."
"Um, hi. This is going to sound really weird, but I'm meant to have a visa interview at 9am and I'm stuck in your fire escape.."
You see, this never would have happened if American tourist visas were valid for four, not three months. Or if The Bamboozle festival fell on the first weekend of June, in SUMMER, rather than May, like a good parking lot festival should be. Or you could take it another step further and say it never would have happened if I hadn't discovered Pete Wentz's blogs through an old online friend from Chicago, and fallen so deeply in love with this scene that I do anything to immerse myself in it at all times. Another step, and if Kevin Lyman had a change of heart and had become an accountant or a chef, and never started his festivals, I wouldn't have this deep-seated need to fulfill the rocker-kid's version of running away to join the circus: working the summer on the Vans Warped Tour.
You could blame me being stuck in the fire escape on many, many things: the song Holiday from Real by Jack's Mannequin, the film Almost Famous, the song 7 Weeks by Gym Class Heroes, Tim Towner from The Daily Chorus for writing such an inspiring blog about noobs who want to work Warped. Blame my friends Dave, Joe, Ali, and Alex, who all work in touring in the USA, for pelting me with advice and being so really, really ridiculously encouraging about me even making this mad attempt. (For those just tuning in, I'm not from the States, and I flew over in April without anything close to a 100% guarantee of a job.) You could blame the ANZ bank for granting me a loan, for some unfathomable reason. ('Who would give me a gun?' - That 70's Show, anyone?) But when it really comes down to it, the only reason I am stuck in the fire escape is because I am stupid and thought I knew better than the general universe. This is what happened.
I ran up the outer stairs and into the skyscraper lobby. It was the type to have separate elevators to different sections of the building, and I quickly jumped in the one marked 47 - 68, checking the time as I go. 8:40. My appointment at the American Consulate to apply for a year-long visa (regular tourist visa is 90 days) but I'd been told to arrive half an hour early for "screening". I pressed the button for floor 59 and it refused to light up. I tried it again, with the same result, but at this point the lift had taken off and was climbing fast. I got off at the next selectable floor - 61 - and came out in a lobby servicing a few different offices. I found a secretary and asked why the lift wouldn't stop at floor 59. She had no idea, but directed me back down to the ground floor to ask the main building reception. I ask if there are any fire stairs I can use as I just need to go one floor, and she once again directs me back down 60 floors to the lobby. Dude, my interview is in 14 minutes, at this point. I have to be screened. Warped Tour. I looked around for someone to give me advice that I would like a bit more, when I spotted a lovely green exit arrow sign. I follow it and find an emergency exit. Despite it proclaiming a $1000 fine for obstruction, I push it open and trot down the two flights to find the door for floor 59. Firmly locked from the outside. I start to panic a little - 'the fire stairs in Chatswood Westfield car park are never locked!' I try the doors on the floors above and below, with the same result. This is when I start freaking out pretty badly. Have you ever been physically trapped? It created a panic in me that definitely was not conscious. It was mindless terror and I was sweating into my navy blue polyester work blouse.
I pull out my phone and step up and down until I find a bar of signal - i am trapped in a fire escape 60 floors up. think i am going to die. I text to my roommate and a couple of friends. I try pounding and pounding on the door with no result, and that's when I call the office. They respond like they think I'm either a terrorist or the biggest moron alive. Apparently, I was meant to report to floor 10 for SECURITY screening, then get sent up to floor 59 in a special elevator. Duh. American government offices. They send some security guards to come get me - at this point I'm physically shaking and very white - and those dudes just pretty much laugh at me. By then, I had missed my appointment and also could barely stand upright, so I just left the building, after some lady told me I had white all over my ass - from the concrete dust in the fire escape.
The funny thing is, when I came back a few days later, the security guard remembered me, yet they still GAVE ME THE VISA. Clearly they figured that I wasn't trying to sneak in with a bomb, and that I was dumb enough not to do any damage to their country.
Well... we'll see about that. Heh.
Thursday, June 12, 2008
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