Lisa and I were a little late getting home last night. My plan was to leave at 6 and we did. It just took us an hour to reach the car. It was so much fun spending the afternoon with family. My little cousins Benji and Grace were overwhelmed by Bobo. They spent the entire time playing with him and asking questions.
“Cousin Donna, does Bobo like Porky Pig?”
“What is Bobo’s favorite color?”

My other cousins enjoyed the Dance Dance Revolution game. It was cute seeing them jump up and down on the DDR pad.

On the car ride home I called John and left a voicemail message letting him know we’d be home at 8. John never called me back and I just assumed he found something better to do. I changed into sweat pants and got on my computer with the plans of putzing for the rest of the evening. Suddenly there was a knock at my window. I practically jumped out of my skin. I ran to the door and opened it with the belief I would meet a serial killer who I would have to dispatch using only my fists of fury. Instead it was John holding a bunch of DVDs. How cool is that? I expected nothing. I am beginning to think it may be a good thing to have zero expectations of other people. I keep finding myself pleasantly surprised.

The first part of the evening was spent queuing up Depeche Mode songs on Rhapsody. We are going to a Depeche Mode concert next week and John was trying to convince me they are the greatest band in the entire world. I never got into Depeche Mode but John is a HUGE fan. Here are a few interesting tidbits I discovered about Depeche Mode from talking to John and watching their videos last night:
_The lady from Thompson Twins is not one of their keyboardists. That is actually Martin Gore.
_Depeche Mode and Erasure are actually two different bands.
_Wearing white Levis doesn’t actually connote gayness as long as the man wearing the white Levis is from England.
After listening to Depeche Mode, Legendary Pink Dots, Muslimgauze, Rasputina, and The Dresden Dolls, we watched The ‘Burbs. I quite liked it if only for the presence of Henry Gibson. I wonder if he’s still writing poetry?

What a wonderful day!