Flying from Germany to New York with tons of unanswered questions was beyond nerve-wracking.

How would I get along with 9 other strangers? What was living on a bus like? How would the punk and emo crowds respond to electronic music?

I also felt an incredible amount of pressure from the outside…

My dad was confused and disappointed. I was living like a vagabond instead of doing something responsible with my college degree. Why couldn’t I just grow up and let go of these impractical, foolish dreams?

My mom was concerned that I wasn’t staying grounded, and my older brother was worried that I wouldn’t endure the tour physically and mentally. In fact, I was so hurt by his doubt in me that I cut him off for months.

Still, I moved forward with my decision. I took a train from Penn Station to Baltimore and met the rest of my tour mates there.

These included: Jenna (the label owner); her 3 bandmates; a couple of merch girls (one of them being Sharon, a tour manager of sorts); and Chet, the sound guy.

Unlike mainstage artists who can party, wake up hung over, and show up in time for their set, we were working at least 14 hours a day.

Here’s a typical day in the life…

7am: Wake up to the sound of Sharon yelling at everyone to get out of bed. Crawl from your coffin-like bunk. If you’re lucky enough to get the top bunk like me, you’ll usually hit your head on the ceiling since it’s only a foot away from your pillow. Open up the trailer at the back of the bus.

Lift heavy boxes of merchandise onto dollies. Push dollies across long distances– up and down hills, through grass, dirt, rocks, and mud… Unload at the venue. Build two tents: one for the music, the other for merch. The music tent gets set up with a stage, speakers, and DJ booth, while the merch tent calls for gridwall and pretty displays of T-shirts, buttons, stickers, and CDs…

You were lucky if you had time between setup and the start of the festival to get breakfast. Most days we were working right down to the wire, finishing up just as the gates opened.

Then, at the end of the day, we had to count out merch, tear down our tents, fill up the boxes, strap them onto dollies, and pack up the trailer. After busting ass all day in the sweltering heat, breathing in dust, and using disgusting Port-O-Potties, this was an extremely grueling process.

By the time the trailer was loaded up, you’d sometimes have a few hours to chill. Otherwise, you were back on the bus for a long-ass drive to the next city. Have fun trying to get a good night’s sleep…your only privacy comes from a fabric curtain for your bunk, and you’ll feel every bump and turn in the road from your bed.

Repeat the entire process day after day, sometimes going almost a full 2 weeks without a break.

The first couple days made me realize that this was no glamourous experience…

It was boot camp.

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