I hate packing to move. Hate it. Hate Hate Hate. I didn't hate it fifty boxes ago. But I am now realizing that we managed to fit a mansion's worth of crap in a shoebox size apartment. In addition, it is apparently able to reproduce itself, because IT NEVER SEEMS TO END. And, of course, even though Massachusetts loves being cold, it has to be in the nineties this week. Blah. But in the end, I will be in Virginia with my DH. Finally. And why the rush? My bestest friend in the whole wide world got tickets to Duran Duran. We have been trying to go together to see DD since we were young teen 'Duridiots' as her father called us. So she got the tickets, and told hubby to get his act rolling , and my ass out there. This is the same DARLING woman who got me in to see Madonna--and our nosebleed seat were exchanged for floor. Guess they wanted more bodies down there, or something. Anyway, I got male dancer sweat on me, we were so close.Wicked kickass show. Back to DD. My BF says they're still hot as ever. Sigh. May have to dig out my Seven and the Ragged Tiger tee.

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