The other day, at lunch, Marc asked me if he could ask m about an English expression. I said sure. He said, ¨What exactly are wee wee hours?” I began to laugh uncontrollably while he looked on, perplexed. I don´t know why I found it so funny. I guess it wasn´t expecting it. I informed him of he meaning, and that wee wee can also refer to your, well, pee-pee. Your weiner. Your ding dong. I´ve spent many a wee-wee hour with my wee-wee, I know.

It is friggin´ hot here. Steamy, and the tunnels of the metro are worse than the hot streets. Humid blasts of air, like opening the door to a furnace.

Olatz stood me up–we were supposed to go to seeLa Sagrada Familia today, but she is nowhere to be found. So, I am going to split from work and head up to Tibidabo for some panoramic views of the city. Then it is off to Montjuic for some outdoor movies. All through the summer, varos places in Barcelona show movies outside. In a plaza, on the wall of a castle, in a pool complex so you can watch and swim at the same time. It is awesome. So tonight, Amores Perros below the castle walls of Montjuic. Tomorrow, a day trip to the gay-lovin´Sitges.