“DJs are a dime a dozen. I could get on my computer and play iTunes too, ya know. If I wanted to, I could replace you in a second and send you home… and you don’t even know where home is.”

Okay, so I broke her explicit “No hooking up with busmates because of inevitable drama” rule that she laid out on the first day. Aright, I broke it twice (along with a little blacking-out-and-puking-in-my-bed episode). But did I deserve such harsh punishment?

She made me formally apologize to all my busmates (who really didn’t care, and were cheating on their boyfriends with stupid emo boys anyway). She suspended me from DJing for a couple days, put me on bus arrest, and then got furious when someone tried to bring me food. She wanted me to suffer in every way possible.

On the bus, I’d become an outcast. Everyone was scared of pissing Jenna off, so no one backed me up. You don’t know loneliness until you’re stuck traveling thousands of miles with strangers who’ve turned their backs on you.

Then, after our show in Denver, she pulled me aside.

“I’m kicking you off the tour, Catherine. I’m sending you home.”

Her reasons?

“I gave you a big opportunity, and you took it all for yourself. You gave out your business card and your CD. You should’ve been promoting my label. Giving out my CDs. Selling my merch. You’re obviously all about promoting yourself, and that’s not what this was about.”

Jenna tried some final power trips on me– denying she owed me money, saying that I was banned from all upcoming tour dates, and telling me I was “never gonna make it” if I kept up my opportunistic ways.

Wait… so she was the one with her sugar daddy CEO husband financing the whole tour and paying me less than $5 per hour, yet I was taking advantage of her?

It was all so baffling. Yeah, she was pissed about my fuck up, but she definitely had a personal agenda going on. The night she kicked me off, I was at a bar where everyone was hanging out… including Kevin Lyman, creator of the Warped Tour.

This whole time, Jenna had been on a mission to get his attention, schmooze, and network with him. She met with no success.

My experience was slightly different. He came up to me, introduced himself, and said he’d passed by the tent and dug the beats. He invited me to play some private parties on and after the tour, and I was psyched to follow up with him.

Jenna caught wind of this. Was it any coincidence she kicked me off that very night? After I hooked up with Dudeface, the sound guy Chet’s attitude had suddenly turned hostile. Obviously, he’d been crushing on me and, of course, felt his little penis was rejected. He had his own agenda going on, so when he and Jenna sat down to discuss kicking me off, their decision was too easy.

That night, I was dumped off at a crackhouse hotel outside Kansas City.

I had just enough cash to get on a bus back home.

And she was right…

I didn’t know where home was.

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