So, we arrived, finally, at the RV hire place, where Jennifer introduced us to our enormous RVs. Tom has named the buses Heavy Noise; we have a big one, a really big one, it has a bathroom you can swing a cat in, a big double room out back and a dining table that turns into a bed.
We were shown round the buses by a German lady very briskly, there was a lot of complex detail about how to get our 'dirty water' out of the bus. I didn't compute and ordered the boys not to do any number twos on the bus. we hit the road, and before we'd even made our first stop, both my brothers had done big jobs in the bus. I was livid.
We drove miles that day, about 300, from LA to LV. We got very lost and the satnav ran out and driving down Las Vegas Blvd aka The Strip, with the lights of Vegas bouncing off our bus windows, we were an extremely stressed family unit.
We finally arrived at Sams Town RV park in a place called Boulder Highway in the 'burbs of Vegas, it was opposite, across 8 lanes of highway, a huge Walmart. We had barely eaten for days, were constantly hungry, bolting down cokes and potato chips (crisps, yes I do speak fluent American) at occasional gas (see, I told you, fluent!) stops. Finally, we had access to real live food.
Tom and I went shopping, attaching a camera to our trolley, I let him do all the choosing, only butting in three times (once, when I swapped wholewheat bread for double fibre bread - everyone was v constipated; twice, when I swapped an aussie merlot for a californian pinot noir, and third time was when I just would not allow a case of vanilla flavoured coke to enter any basket of goods I might be associated with. Other than that, bossy sister held off and Tom worked his way round the vastness of Walmart picking up pumpkin cookies, fresh coffee, teabags, agave syrup (my mate mamaly turned him on to this when we were staying with him in belair, its like healthy sugar), some juicy weiners, alcohol free beers (which came in very useful when Will was arrested for shooting a stop sign, and the cop said, "Sir, Is that a beer bottle I see." Will said, "Sir, yes Sir, it is a beer bottle, but it is a non-alcoholic beer." The police officer was very interested in this and said, Oh, I didn't know that stuff existed. In the end he waved us on with instructions for how to get to our next RV park, the delightful, if very very wet, Three Rivers Hideaway at the gateway to Sequoia National Park.
Anyway, I overstep myself.
Will and Tom stayed in the night after we arrived in Vegas, watching Allan Carr and Harry Hill dvds on the laptop (our RV telly never works) and eating wieners. Will's partner and co-director, James, and I went to see Metallica. We got pissed up and had a laugh, ending up drinking strong booze in a bar at Ceasar's Palace with the appropriately random cluster of folk around us. I got in at 3am, really really drunk (it hits you like that when you haven't eaten much more than wotsits for 4 days), and fell into my dining room table/bed, out cold. I felt a lot, lot better in the morning, a lot of the stress had shifted. Even though Tom is still in a, 'the show's too loud for me' mode.
Tom has been in a very anti going to any shows state in the last few days. He's just spoken to my stepmum and dad, and things are looking slightly more upwards. he is now agreeing to go and meet lars, but he is still refusing to go to a gig, because he doesn't want to deal with the volume. We've talked ear plugs and headphones over the top, still, no no no no. leave it!
Off to buy cowboy boots for Tom now. And maybe a hat. Or maybe he'll just say, Leave it! Again!
So much to say, hope this comes across in a not too disorientating fashion.
PS. One of the boys, I won't say which one, just did the smelliest fart ever, I have to get out of here
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