Rock city.

Trip to Glasgow was uneventful.
Q is still not feeling well and I know this for sure because he did not get out when we stopped at our daily pull-it-over. They are good here, real nice and it is one of the best parts of the drive, well other than the ridiculously beautiful countryside. They have this store called M&S and it has the most delicious, healthy stuff to eat. It is a parents dream. If 7-11 is the king of truck stops in the US, M&S is the mutha fuckin' Queen. And we all know, there is no king without the Queen. 7-11 blows but when you are traveling, those little stops mean everything. From gas, to coffee and weird little snacks to get you going, so you can plow through the final hours of your journey.
In the UK and Europe, looking around at all the odd stuff is part of the entire journey. Prawn crisps! WTF? They are my favorite. And prawn salad, this stuff is what I lived on when I was here two summers ago, pregnant with our little chicken... maybe I'm pregnant? If so, I should put down this bottle of wine...
Our journey's final hours are far from us but today we are in our hotel, which is NOT a dump. Yay! Last time we were traveling through Europe we booked our own rooms and while this was better on one hand (they were mostly nice places, some were totally bad ass), it really took a chunk out of our profits. And we are no hobby rockers. WE, meaning all of us, are part of a family business. No we don't believe in child labor, but you know, this is their life too for the next 10- 20 years, like it or not. When we go home, there are no other jobs waiting (can you imagine "Um, I'm going to need 6 weeks off to travel with my family, is that cool?" Ya.... no.) so this shit has got to last. Meaning the money. We've got college and insurance and expensive taste. Not really, well, maybe a little. Expensive for shit asses like ourselves.
Having a hotel room part of the contract via the booking agent has been a very smart thing. I would like to thank Adam Elfin for being so amazing, he is so good to Eddie and therefor, to us.
We absolutely learn something new every time we do this and we have been traveling with child for 10 years. Now with 2, it is no different, even Eddie after all these years of touring, he is still learning. Like how to travel with a family! I'm kidding, mostly. He is such a great father and musician but if any of you know an artist- they are very much taking care of number 1. I respect that too, I think that must be art of the make-up that is in an artist. That doesn't mean I don't complain about it, ha! I totally do, it's annoying because sometimes I don't want to be married to a musician, I just want a normal person, but what is that? My friends know that I am a nerd lover, I should be married to Peter Krauss, I am not cool enough to be with a rock guy, alas here I am. So we have a good verbal fisticuffs when I ask him to do something like oh I don't know, pack up the room so I can blog and 20 minutes later when I am done and we need to leave I get up and there's shit everywhere. What the hell?? He's like "my stuffs packed!" as if the kids stuff is my stuff? I quickly point out how retarded this is and he gets it, doesn't mean he is going to "get it" but he gets it. Ahhhh... I do love him for being him.
It isn't easy, I'm sure, to spend 10 odd years being solo and touring as a single dude and then traveling with an entourage- some who are under 3 feet tall.
It's different and no matter how long he/we have been doing it- it's tough, I know. I get it. I'd rather pack up my too many pieces of make-up that I don't wear and grab a cab too but I have to make sure we don't leave "Owly" or "Oprah", I have to find Quattro's helmet and make sure the stylist pen is in the case. These things, although I know they come with the territory- I don't want to do them either. I want to stay in bed until checkout with a bloodymary, not get up and breast feed- yes, I'm still breast feeding my almost 2 year old. Fuck off. TMI? this my world, you're just reading about it.
So what do I do? Well I can complain, which I'm not above and/or I can just pick up the damn doll myself and check under the bed after everyone is out of the room, a relationship is work, HARD work and for those of us who love the outcome, we find a way to love the work. Because there are so many benefits from a solid marriage and when mine is not, I work hard at getting it back that way and when it is, I feel proud and I enjoy. Life on the road is no different, well except for people interrupt our meals for autographs and stand in line to purchase a shirt with Eddie's face. So thank all of you too- maybe one of these days we will be flying first class and staying in the penthouse suite, with a nanny who will pack up all our shit... until then, I can get into the car and then get back out and make sure the little chicken has her books and then unearth Q's sunglasses from his luggage, which is meticulously placed, in a time consuming game of tetras, every fucking day. We do all of this, through all the bitching and moaning because this is our great life and we love the good, bad and the smelly.
I know I've got it good, maybe it wouldn't be so rewarding if I had someone doing it all for me? I'm not good at many things, I don't have a career and I didn't finish college so knowing that I love what I do, no matter how significant or insignificant, I'm really good at it, so I guess it's up to me to just keep getting better. I try and never look at the other side, because I know it is not greener. And I can live with the fact that Eddie is good at nearly everything he does, EXCEPT packing up the hotel room. He sucks at that and I enjoy it.