Phish at the Gorge in 2003 – My experience

It all started when we arrived and were parked in the campground which was furthest away from the entrance that it could possibly be. The only way for me to get around at shows now is in a wheelchair, and the campground ground was made up of grass and gravel. We tried to start wheeling me to the show through the grass, but it tipped me over 3 times, then we tried on the gravel and that tipped me over 3 times. By this time I’m bawling my eyes out and my ankle had started to swell so we went to the first aid station. It was at the first aid station that we learned there was a gimp bus for those in need. The bus would pick up the gimps and take us the mile and a half to the venue.  I was happy about that, but wondered why I hadn’t been informed about this when we entered the campground and especially when my handicapped placard was hanging there plain to see on the RV.  We took the handicapped bus the first night of the first concert (there were two nights of shows) I was able to sit in the seats because there wasn’t a huge crowd at this point and i got to the show. When we arrived (they brought us through backstage), the guard there said, ‘hold on, ill find you a seat out there’ We couldn’t visually see the venue this well at this point, me because I was in a wheelchair and behind a large, tall fence. When the guy came back, he wheeled me out into the middle of the cement floor. At this point it wasn’t that busy but I had been on that floor without the chair at prior phish shows and know how bad it gets down there.  I was confused as i had seen at least 4 handicapped seating sections on the web page. When I asked someone about that, they said that they close the handicap sections during general admission shows. The whole show was horrible, people tripped over me what seemed like every 5 minutes. A few of the people around me bitched so much during the first set, that at set break I had Kris move me. We ended up at the back of the floor, but due to the decline of the ground, my chair would roll forward, even with the brakes on. All i needed was a flat space, but there wasn’t one to be seen, nor did the people who work at the venue let Kris or I know about one. The ride back to the bus was a fun one, but when we arrived back at the campground, we realized we still had to go up a hill made of gravel, and the bus driver and his helper refused to drive us up there. We made it up there but about 5 minutes later we saw the bus drive by!!!!

The next day dawned and we make it down to where the bus picks us up. We ask about the person they took up in the bus to the campground and they said, oh, he had an electric chair. We shook our heads in disbelief about being left there and someone else being taken. I was put into the back of the bus this time around. At the back of these buses are seat belt straps, attached to the floor. These straps are used to hold the wheelchair in place while the bus is in motion. When I was put in the back of the bus, the gentleman (the same one from the day before) didn’t put these safety restraints on. I touched him as he left and asked ‘will i be ok?’ and he said yes. I at this point was so new to using a wheelchair that I couldn’t have imagined what would be happening next. As the driver started up the bus and headed out of the campground he hit his brakes at the entrance of the campground and the wheelchair I was sitting in flew forward  and smashed into another wheelchair. To make a long story short, the same thing happened at the venue the second night, but less people tripped over me, and I was able to keep space with the help of a few friends. When we returned home, we realized that something was VERY  wrong with the wheelchair from the crash. Physically I was alright but the entire frame of the wheelchair was bent and parts had snapped off that were welded to the frame (the crash with the other wheelchair was a big enough impact to break the wheelchair). The second night ended and the most horrible time I have ever had at a concert in my entire life was finally over. I was so scared and upset and worried about being bumped (anytime someone would bump into me it would cause me pain)  most of the time that I was unable to enjoy the show, nor could i even SEE the show. There were no screens, and due to me sitting in the chair, when everyone would stand around me, I was blocked from any view of the stage.

Now that it’s been a couple of years,  I have finally been able to let this go. I thought about suing the Gorge, worked with the  Attorney General of the state of Washington and the Washington Human Rights Commission for awhile about the case, but I wimped out. Now all I have are the memories and a broken wheelchair in the basement. I don’t know why it’s there, why we never got rid of it after the decision to not sue, but it’s there. It’s there for a reason that I don’t know yet so I’ll get back to you later on that one.

This blog is for….

I don’t know if it will ever get read by anyone but once you put something out there there is always a chance. One evening, around a campfire, the drums will be beating from a distance. Fireworks will be set off and fly into the air with the squeak that goes along with those cheap kinds. People will be playing with glow rings and maybe even a fire dancer or two. Couples will be in the shadows holding hands and pointing at things in the dark that only they can see. The darkness will fill with spirits and laughter will come from places unknown. The music will never cease and that’s part of the fun. The sun will rise and as 9am comes it’ll be time to finally grab a few winks of sleep and say goodbye to those whom have shared the evening with you. We will part with hugs and knowledge that we have done what was meant to be and what will be in the future.

The beauty in the pain

music is playin..the lights are low..the wind chimes are outside..the wind is blowing..the night is here..it’s time to tell  a story and this is how it goes…

Gene Ammons/ Satin Doll

Smooth Jazz…..soft trumpet, pure jazz..sirius radio 72..I highly recommend it…

Getting a tattoo is all about the pain and can you and do you want to handle it. For me, it’s a meditation of sorts. I use meditation and breathing techniques because I know what I’m doing is going to have a life long affect. This is something I am putting into a part of my body, into my skin, for the world to see when I want them to. It’s also very much for a reason, and a purpose that is completely and soley my own. No one makes this decision for you. You don’t just get a tattoo because it’s cool. This is something that has to be very much an alone me kind of decision. I remember when I went to my first one, I reacted in this exact same way. It was somewhat of a ‘turning point’ in my life since I remember it so well.  This time around, I am even happier then the last time. This tattoo is brighter and better too. Even though the other tattoo is still kickin and is bright in it’s own right, this one, this new one, it’s loud, proud and speaks to me.  It’s a very intimate yet public tattoo. I told the internet world as best I could. I don’t know yet who I want to know about this at work.  The roommate has work of his own and he was very appreciative of what we got. The ginger is too ‘heady’ for ‘ink’ and so even though I showed it to me, I don’t think he cares. There are tattoo people, and there arent. No big deal. Doesn’t matter if it ain’t your thing, don’t get me wrong.

This new tattoo is an homage to the 12 years of my life that I dedicated to them.  It’s been 2 years since the last show. 2 years of a new life.  While they aren’t around now, because they broke up with us of course. but even if they were to start playing again, which I know they will, they just have to, it won’t be the same for me. I will go to a show or two, but it will never be what it was, just like I won’t be what I was in those years. It’s time to let go and stop being all dramatic about it. The tattoo is the last. It’s the last number in the 13# program of letting go of something in your life that needs to be let go. Well, maybe not that serious, but that’s sometimes how it feels and this is really me sharing this much of my thoughts. . That part of my life is past now. And this tattoo is there to tell the story for me when I can’t tell it. It’s to tell the world, loud and proud what is a part of me and a part of me forever. When I am 90 years old, I will still be telling stories about driving next to the tour bus and seeing Page open up the curtain and wave at us. We were in two cars, with walkie talkies and pulled a switcheroo so that the other car could see the boys too. They saw us do it, I know they did and so they opened up the curtians for the other car too. It was things like that that made it all so special. They were able to talk to us all. In small and non verbal ways 😉 and we got it and so yea, that is the reason why I got what I did.

New Tattoos

Kris new tat CFH

The geeks is up there and the gimps is below

marns

Long long long time ago, in a not so far away california…

The sound of the guitar pierces into the most delicate areas of the soul and fills in the holes like a colored pencils fill in the black ink lines of a coloring book. The melody is what gets ya moving..and keeps the pain away..

Ya know, I wish that IMAX movie with BB King, The Roots and Trey would be released. Even if its just to DVD. I would love to see that again. Seeing it the first time was enough, don’t get me wrong. Seeing yourself on that huge of a screen can be somewhat

boy…….

Scary. But remembering

man….

the actual taping of the movie, waiting from 6am until late in the evening….

god……

waiting in hopes of being picked to be in the audience of a movie with your guitar hero…

shit….

is another one of my favorite Trey related life memory crazy experiences that I have had. I will try here to remember what I can. First off, I hope that the girl I went with will hopefully forgive me for what I did to her. I don’t know if there’s anything I can do beyond asking for that forgiveness. I was on tour with herand we had some good times and some bad and this story is one of the great times that I’d like to remember as positive and not negative.

Phish was on their first hiatus and us rmp internet phishheads were a bit stir-crazy. Some of us had gone back to school, some of us had gotten part time or full time jobs and we just basically watched an internet clock tick and an internet candle burn until they announced that Phish would tour and when it would happen. It was in early 2001 when I made an e-friend on rmp again, one of the hundreds of cool people that I have met through that internet message board. She was wanting to party with me and suggested we do something absolutely crazy, last minute and fun. She suggested that we go to the IMAX movie taping that Trey was doing the following day and go with her to try and get in the taping as an audience member. I lived in Oregon and she was just a few hours away by plane. I decided, fuck it, I’ll do it. I’d been flying once a month across the country following the Trey Solo tour, visiting JJ down at her house in Orange County, going here, going there, even visiting my family, so flying wasn’t anything I feared. I went to the airport, grabbed a last minute ticket, bought some magazines and some bottled water for the quick jaunt down and settled into my seat with a quick prayer. I hadn’t ever met these So Cal RMP kids before, but I had spent hours talking on aim and on the message boards and on email with them. When you talk with people over the net, i t can be easy to share the most intimate thoughts that you have. It seems somehow safe, I mean I’m still doing it now, almost 12 years after my first internet experience. And one of the first friends I met back then I’m still friends with now.

Comin down on me, shouldn’t a took more then you give…down on me…broootthheerrr…brooottthhheerrr…wolfman’s brother…

So here we are, Im sitting on a plane, heading down to southern california. I think two people know where I’m going. I’m meeting two people whom I’ve never met and we are going to stand in line for at least 8 hours to maybe get picked to be in the audience of a movie about music and the guitarist of my favorite band was goign to perform. As far as we knew, it was free and we might even possibly be in a movie. There were maybe 20 people in the entire plane in scattered in seats all up and down the front and back of the plane. It was going to be a comfortable ride, no one to share the row with. Plenty of room to stretch out and read a book for the next few hours. These were the kind of flights I looked forward to.

All of a sudden, I heard the engines revving up as we got ready to move into position at the end of the runway to get ready for take-off. Suddenly, I’m not sure exactly what happened, but everyone in that plane now realized that we were not going anywhere on that plane. I don’t remember what happened but The captain announced that the plane was heading back to the gate and that we would get help with our trip plans at the counter once we deplaned back at PDX. Now I had a strict schedule. The audience participation line was set to start lining up at 6am and it was getting later and later in the evening. I was slowly losing my shot to even go to this taping. One of the Southern California airports actually closes because of noise and I was afraid that was the one that I had to fly into. I was frantically calling my friends on the cell phone and chatting with the woman from the airline trying to work out the best situation. I didn’t know if I could fly into this other airport and still make it to the line in time the next morning. We were starting to enter the territory of doing this on possibly no sleep at all. I was able to finagle both a free flight and a free hotel room as long as I flew into a different city and my e-friends would met me at the airport, we crashed and slept for a few hours at the hotel and then headed out for the line up at the movie taping warehouse.

We didn’t know if there would be anyone there at all waiting to be in the audience of this movie. I mean BB King, The Roots. And most trey/phish fans were from the northeast. Eventually we found out that some of the audience were paid extras. They got to come in and get in line around 10am. Of course it was possible that other people were flying in for it too like I was. THere were a lot of phish/trey folks that were readyto go anywhere to see anything that they/he was doing music wise at the drop of a hat . At least I knew I wasn’t alone in doing crazy things like this. What made the west coast events more fun was the audience participation. The LA backstage fan base that I knew were somewhat well known people and that was always very intimidating for me. My tour partners, forget i t. They were all naturals. Just call me the fly on the wall. I didn’t have any of my backstage connections at this movie taping and I was almost grateful. THe backstage situations could sometimes get scary and uncomfortable if you did or said the wrong thing to the wrong person.

The entire idea for me for this trip was to get down, close, in front as close as possible to the performers. I didn’t want to necessarily be 10 inches from Trey, infact I preferred to be kinda to his side and that’s exactly where I ended up. Rail rats I guess you could call all of us. That’s what most of us were. There were also tapers, guitar nuts, there were beautiful girls wanting to hook with the band and then there were fans like me, rail rats. People wanting the visuals of the band, along with the lights and the music all in one big mis mash.

Do something like a movie taping with Trey in the northeast and you’d have a riot on your hands. This IMAX movie taping was during the first hiatus and so some of us would do whatever it would take. You know us, we are the ones with the tattoos and professionally framed photos hanging in our living rooms.

Rye Rye Rocko

Bid you to have any spike, man

Run run run run run run run…..

We, amster and me, and her other friends who’s names have been lost in the fragments of time, had to figure out how to get to this certain warehouse door, just down the street from the Forum by 6am to be first in line in hopes of being picked to participate in the taping of the audience portion of an IMAX moving production by Certs. It involved musicians, live performances and backstage access. It couldn’t have been that hard. Wait in line, go in, they play, and we listen.

Comefrom top the mountain baby, where people come to pray

come from top the mountain baby, where the people come to pray ain’t no truth in action, less you believe in it anyway, I was riding down the road one day..Whoa possum….your end is the road.

5:30am came quickly and we hopped in the car and headed to the warehouse door. We got in line, were the first people inline and settled in for what would end up being an all day and night adventure. At about 10:30, a couple hundred people showed up and us early folks were led inside this huge metal warehouse to stand in line again. The other new couple hundred people were L.A. actors and actresses doing a call. They were going to be paid to be in the audience for this movie while we were all hoping to get in and not get paid. The entire process took all day long but finally we found ourselves in a line, at the top of a small sports arena, the top portion had been curtained off with a thick black vinyl type curtain and we could hear Trey playing with BB King. We had missed the first jam session but they were finally leading us down into this very small intimate circle. THere were about 6 rows of 10 people onthe floor and a couple hundred people in seats around the entire place. Emma and I, who had ran into each other early on in the morning while waiting in line found ourselves together at the side of the stage.

Fly onthe wall part 1

When all faith is lost, is it all right to laugh.

The first time I went back, I was really scared. I had won the auction. I had met B.M. and I had my cute little hippie dress on, and a cute skinny, 4 foot long braids in her hair, chick tour partner who everyone wanted to fuck the shit out of. I was the third wheel. The fat friend. Didn’t mean to be the ‘cock’ block ever. But I was the fly on the wall. All the things I saw..all the things I saw and I’ll never forget. Never really will tell either. I’m not a narc.

Life can be just as you make it. If you believe the lie and it will all come true.

I believed I was part of it. But so many people made me feel as though I didn’t. I didn’t take as many of the drugs, even though they were around me. I didn’t hang inner circle often.

Your never free to walk away. You should be free to go today.

Lying is one of the things that I try hardest not to do. I did not lie when J.L. asked me if I was wearing the lammy. But what J.L didn’t know, is that I had it hidden. Underneath the three layers I was wearing in the california misty late evening it had become. Aftershows last a couple hours if you are at the right one, in the right place, with the right people and saying and doing the right things. To me, it was like an audition every single night. I never felt like I belonged back there but still, somehow always ended up back there. I always felt like an intruder and J.L. when you said it was my fault <shake my head back and forth>. I still haven’t forgiven myself for telling you the truth. What I didn’t tell you, was that JJ got me in through Bart. I didn’t use the lammy. It was there to remind me of Bill. I loved Bill with all my heart. I really did. I just didn’t love him as anything more then a friend though. Repeat this after me kids

I did NOT use someone to get laminates to be backstage. Ever. I didn’t need to say it, but I felt like I have to say it at least once.

Believe the lie and it will all come true. You should be free to go today.

I can walk away. Can you?

PS. Thanks for the backpack JJ and J.L. I’ll bring it with me to 10klf so I can feel ‘cool’ again.

More physical therapy, time for some positive thinking to get me through

An intake of breath, had punctured my soul, let me know, i need to know

How much of our lives do we spend wondering what other people are thinking? Specially when you are in silence with the other person. You can say so much by just having a non verbal conversation. If anything they are a better more positive and truer way for two people to communicate. I think that is a more intimate way to communicate then even touching. If my hubby can read my mind to the point that he finished my sentence then that is fantastic and it makes me so awkwardly happy that I just don’t know what to do in that instant of time right before making the correct judgment on how someone else is going to react to your reaction.

The horns step back to allow the rhythm of the acoustic guitar and a few whistles from the crowd as the sound starts as a small ball and is slowly building bigger as the horns step back in. Even an instrumental can have that release you just have to listen harder.

Been drifting for years at sea, but now you’ve come along, to rescue me…the fog is lifted..we got the moon and the stars above..

This song has always touched a part of me that I have never had touched before. Part of my heart that I didn’t know music could even get to. It opened me up to a love that was coming but was not there yet. It was getting me ready for the hubby. Everything that I did until I met him was get ready and learn lessons so that I would recognize him and know what to do to help him when he needs it. I hope that he realizes how much I love him.

At the bank, fill the tank, beneath my feet and above my head, cuz the fog is liftin, we got the moon and the stars above.

Even though the voices falter and are not perfect, no human is while playing music. Sometimes the vibration of music is so far out of reach that the magician (musician ) can’t quite reach the right note. Then trey will start noodling that Languedoc and start pulling energy from the same place the hose pulls energy from. It’s strings I imagine. Strings like the strings on his and mike’s instruments. Music, what a powerful and misunderstood thing. If anyone could harness the power of music, boy would we never need another coal worker or oil company. We’d just have festivals once a month to generate the energy each town needs for the next month. Every state would have that one band that causes that state to all go into overdrive. Everyone drops everything they are doing to go see that band and all that happiness and energy is harnessed to light the homes of the people who are giving of their own energy to help others.

1993-1995 Hazy Shades of Life

Fall of 1993 through early 1995 were hazy years. I was being abused daily by my then boyfriend. I met him my freshman year of college and we were eventually engaged to be married. At the time I didn’t realize that he was pulling the obvious signs of an abusive boyfriend. It should have woken me up the first time he punched me. It was fall on campus and we were walking back  to our dorm from the local pizza joint after playing a few games of pinball. It was a beautiful central Michigan fall.  The leaves were yellow and red and gold and I just remember being very happy as we walked back towards our dorm. Al of a sudden, He just hauled off and punched me square in the chest. I dropped to my knees, my breath knocked out of me, in disbelief at what he had just done. That was the first time I should have done something but i didn’t. I guess I wasn’t strong enough.  I also should of woken up about him and our horrific relationship when my dorm mother found us arguing. I was smacking him with our dorm phone just to keep him off of me. The third wake up call that I missed came in the form of my roommate moving out of our dorm room. That should have been huge flashing warning signs but I was completely naive and blind. I felt that I deserved everything that he was giving me. He was my first boyfriend . What did I know. We eventually left the college after  our first year and we stupidly moved into an apartment together down in southern michigan, thankfully closer to my family and to his. We both got jobs and started living life together. I  lost touch with all of my friends. I look back now and realize that was the beginning part of his manipulation of me.  He was trying to get me completely alone and friendless so that I would take the beatings. When we would visit his family, I would try to show them the bruises, but all I would hear was stories of him being tied in the backyard and I realized that the abuse had come from his parents. I had a fantastic nanny job, loved every minute of it and got paid well. THe family was very loving and considered me one of their own. This somewhat state of independance would be gone in a flash very soon. I lost my nanny job because my boss heard him beating me one morning when I was calling in sick. It was a nasty situation. They did give me wonderful letters of recommendation and it was with those that I found my next job, selling vertical blinds. When a friend at my new job, taking vertical blind orders, needed a place to crash because her ‘boyfriend’ kicked her out, I didn’t think anything about inviting her to crash on our couch. I slowly realized what was going on when I would catch the two of them in the middle of the night sleeping together. It was finally the kick in the ass I needed to get out of his life and as far away as forever. Thankfully the landlord knew what had been happening to me so when I wanted to get out of the lease, the landlord didn’t argue at all and we worked out a deal about my name being taken off the lease and thankfully the landlord helping me out with the least was my last string to that man. I was finally able to get rid of him.

After I made him and the new girlfriend move me out of ‘their’ apartment is really when I began to heal and started to spread my wings again.

I skip around, but 1995, is the year that changed everything.

I turned 21 Feb. of 1995 and quite a few of my friends were underage. I hung out with a large group of people that ranged in ages.

I even hung out with a sister and brother who would sometimes fight when they would come to my place. Never trust those redheads. Those two people made a big impact on my life. I had never been friends with a brother and a sister before. Both redheads too of course. She was your typical suburban college girl and her brother was a stone. He was also disabled. He had no muscles in his legs and to this day it’s because of him that I don’t hate myself completely. I also had never seen a brother and sister hate each other so much. It eventually got to the point where I would have two separate crowds of people at my house because of this sister/brother combo. The brother’s crew was part of the stereotypical hippie crowd who had stickers all over the back of their cars, they drove around and smoked pot and talked about the Grateful Dead trying to ‘outdead’ each other. I’ll get into a story about that another time <wink>

His sister was one of the coolest chicks I’ve ever known. I was a tomboy and had lost my girly princess side when I knew her so she was like a vision of makeup and padded bras with sparkly things on them. She was also part of the stereotypical college frat/sorority circle of people who drank beer and talked about each other behind their backs. Even she had the stoner couple in her crew. Those two could have taken me to my first phish show but I stupidly said no and went for the boys and the Grateful Dead which I do not regret

I had the only apartment in my circles of friends and so for most of my months living there I was not alone. People would stop by at all time and people seemed to genuinely like me. I even started hanging out with a few girlfriends from highschool and they would come over and hang with the other two circles of friends. It was one of the first party lives of many that I have had in my lifetime. I hope you all party like rock stars for the rest of your life like I want to.

I Digress.

After having such a tough time making friends before college I was very thankful to have such a large circle of different kinds of people who were all somewhat supportive. At this age I was healthly. There were no serious signs of the A.S. and even my thyroid was under control, unlike now. I was a healthy beautiful 21 year old blond college girl living the best part of life, the part after moving out of the home you grew up in. I

You an almost think, that you are seeing double, on a cold dark on a spanish stairs

My apartment was behind a Denny’s and that was just the straw that broke the camels back when i was looking for a place to live. When we would get the munchies and had skiied all day long, we all would run down the stairs and jump into the snow. Jump in my jeep, warm it up, in negative 50 degree windchills, and drive 500 feet to the Denny’s for an all night smoke and coffee session. The liquor and beer store was across the street fromthe Denny’s which made the party apartment just east of the central part of town.

Oh to be in the land of coca-cola.

We celebrated every birthday that year at my apartment. Everyone got a cake and balloons, even my own mom. I still have the picture of her blowing out the candles in my kitchen. I had finally settled down, or so we both thought. Every occaision was occaision enough for a keg in the bathtub and a nice round of truth or dare.

Suddenly, Everything’s gonna be different, when I paint my masterpiece

By the spring of 1995 I took these brand new wings of confidence that had sprouted in the tender care of all my new friends and began to spread my roots into the ground and wave my branches out to those who were offering friendship.

Forgive, I’m not sure I could, they say time heals everything, but I’m still waiting…

I had moved into this apartment after finally leaving an abusive boyfriend after being with him for 2 years. It was actually the second apartment. I had to leave the first one because he knew where I lived and I figured I might be a little bit safer if I lived closed to the family and in an apartment that he didn’t know about. It’s hard sometimes for me to think about those times, but thats for a reason. I think theres enough room in my brain to not deal with that time of my life right now and so I wont.

Ill keep payin, I’m not ready to make nice, I’m not ready to back down, I’m still mad as hell..

And I’m still waitinThat apartment still had somewhat of a dark cloud hanging above it and I eventually left with almost 4 months left on the lease. I paid off the rest of the lease and moved out west with a roommate who was using me for all I had. Both emotionally, mentally, and fiscally.

Goin down the road feelin bad..

By the spring of 1995 I was ready to be social again. I took these brand new wings that had sprouted in the tender care of all my new friends and began spreading my branches out to those who were offering friendship. All those days and nights roll into one in the shadowy recesses of my memories but they are remembered with a fondness of a time that will never be again. I moved from the apartment in one suburb to another apartment in another suburb. This apartment had many perks. It was in a complex right downtown and situated in a perfect spot for a very social place. It was behind a 24 hour eatery and everything was just around the corner. The supermarket, the movie duplex and the mall. It may have seemed like a completely different life as the apartment and job I had been living in. But that apartment still had somewhat of a dark cloud hanging above it. The previous apartment had been a studio where I was living with a roommate. She would sleep on the couch and where my bedroom was, the wall only went up about 3/4 to the cieling. I could get up on my tiptoes and peer over the wall to see what my roomie was doing. That didn’t leave much to the imagination when we had guys over, but it worked until it was time for me to move off to be on my own.In spring of 1994 I was working as a cashier at the local grocery store, but the job didn’t last very long. WEll to be honest, it was me who didn’t last long IN the job. I wasn’t happy and decided to do pizza delivery instead. Little did I know, but I was slowly building up debt because I wasn’t paying attention to my budget, well really ANY budget. I was working every now and then, making cash from tips and a small paycheck every other week but it was not enough to pay the bills. Luckily I was one of those smarter college students and hadn’t opened up a credit card at this point, but I had forgotten to pay the rent. Oh, and lights,tv, radio, heat and stove?? They also were bills that needed to be paid that weren’t getting paid. I’m not sure if it was a matter of me doing it on purpose, or by accident. I was one of those kids lucky enough to get just about anything I wanted while I was growing up. While I didn’t have a brand new BMW like some of my classmates, I was lucky enough to get a car when I turned 16. I didn’t know that it was a different world outside my suburb. I thought that everyone had the same amount of money, dishes got washed on their own, and bills, well, I could always call mom right?

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