Europe

450 26 10
                                        

We touched down in Liverpool on October twelfth.  After the jet-lag went away, we spent our first night in England partying it up.  God, I don't know why I did it.  It was in the spur of the moment and I wasn't thinking about it.  I party partied.  I regretted it the next morning, when I was puking my guts out.  The worst part was, I kept doing them–drugs and stuff, I mean–throughout the stay in England.

      As per usual, Aerosmith kicked ass in Liverpool, then it was off to Glasgow, and so on and so forth.  I attended every show, so that I was Joe's only groupie... That, and I liked watching them play.  Steven and I, minus the one night back in America, did not talk.  He just wanted to ignore me completely, especially after I was engaged and definitely after he found out I was pregnant.

        The doctor said I probably shouldn't fly, but if I really, really wanted to then she supposed it was okay.  Obviously, I flew.

        I told my parents I was going.  I had gotten up the courage a while ago to tell them that Joe and I were engaged and having a baby.  My mother was tickled pink, and my father was happy with my decision; mainly because he knew Joe and liked him.  I told Janet, too.  She called all our old high-school friends.  So basically (even though I didn't want everyone to know), everyone knew by the following week.  She also told everyone I was going to Europe with Joe Perry of Aerosmith.  And then she'd say that Joe Perry was my fiancé.  Everyone was in love with my little baby-to-be, and so was I.  Do you know how many people told me I was practically glowing?  I was starting to grow fond of my protruding belly.  I liked it.  Little Anthony (my apologies if it's a girl) seemed to like eggs almost as much as I do, which meant I got double eggs.  That was always a good thing because I love eggs.

        Joe liked Anthony too.  Both as the baby and a name.  Though he strongly disagreed that we name it Anthony regardless.  He said only if it's a boy.  He said he liked Adriana, but he wasn't sure why.  So I said okay.  Adriana's a pretty name.

        Anyway, London was my favorite date.  It was so much fun.  Joe, Tom, Terry, and I posed as the Beatles on Abbey Road which made me really happy.  This is where it started!  The British Invasion!  This is partly what inspired Aerosmith to be what it is today!

        The flight to Cologne, Germany, however, was awful.  The turbulence was bad, the weather was awful, and I had the worst cramps imaginable about five minutes after takeoff.  They got worse throughout the rest of the day.  I attended the show, still, and I endured the ride back to the hotel, wincing as we hit every bump in the road.

       I stumbled to the elevator and into the room where I laid down on the bed and tried to fall asleep.  I was driving Joe crazy, though he tried not to show it.  He gave me some pills to make the pain somewhat tolerable, and tried to get it off my mind, but it didn't work.  Because I couldn't sleep, Joe brought some hair bleach into the bedroom and told me to re-dye the strip of hair, even though he was about to fall over he was so tired.  I couldn't take the pain, though I still tried to dye it and it kind of worked.  At least I finally fell asleep.

        I suffered the hour long flight to Erlangen, Germany the following day, as well as the show that night.  I listened to them through the thick walls of the arena while laying on the couch with a massive headache and my eyes closed.  I was afraid to take any more painkillers.  The show lasted forever, it seemed.  The band finally came backstage, Joe changed and came to help me up.  I could hardly walk out of the arena that night, the cramps were so horrible.  I'd never had anything like this before.  Ever.  I felt like I was dying.

     I put on some pajamas–which, as of late, consisted of any overly-large teeshirt and some panties because my pajama pants were too tight–then I curled up in the big hotel bed and tried to fall asleep after a shower that did not help.  Joe did the best he could, though you could tell I was annoying him.  The damn things brought fuckin' tears to my eyes!  I finally fell asleep, with my head on Joe's chest and my hands clutching my stomach and the little baby inside.  His hand was on top of mine.  It would have been nice, if the goddamn cramps didn't hurt so fucking bad.

No More No MoreWhere stories live. Discover now