cruisin', a duranie with no shame

I am cruising through a bunch of graphics. Rotate, size, levels, sharpen, layer style. My ears are full of Duran's "What Happens Tomorrow," cranked through my phones with the Itunes making pretty designs. I love my job.

Emails are starting to come in about the concert. <lj user="synthcat"> should be getting his tix in a matter of weeks. Me, I don't get them in the mail, but at the pre-party, location as of yet undisclosed. My initial email said we should show up 1.5 hours before showtime. I wish I had a gazillion dollars and could have brought ol's synthcat along with me. He deserves a front of the house experience, and I will definitely be wishing he could be with me up front.

I am going to explode to bits at that thing. Take this song, multiply the volume and depth, and throw Simon right in front of me with the rest of the Fab Five bouncing along behind him…I'm just going to melt. I've waited 20 years to see all of them, and I'm doing it in style, as I promised myself I would long ago. It's going to be better than almost any Duran event in my life previously. Even the hug/motorcycle conversation/watching Simon squeeze his nuts as a visual aid to a motorcycle accident day, or the 16 years old Roseland Ballroom show in NYC where I came out with a band member's Evian bottle and my skirt turned around backwards. Or the drunken, hanging-out-of-a-limo trip down to San Jose in tandem with the next stop in Sacramento. Or the hanging with John backstage at Slim's, or wandering around backstage at the Concord Pavilion, finally getting a shot of DLJ and Simon together (enough people have said, without my prompting, "DLJ, did you know you look like Simon LeBon" that I know it's NOT JUST ME that sees it.)

In the end, it always really WAS about the music. It's going to be so fun, but the anticipation is almost as exciting.