I'm starting to feel at home in this country, despite being called bush-supporting, NASCAR-obsessed gringo everywhere I go. I really should ditch this NASCAR hat and Bush warmup suit I've been sporting. I am feeling more comfortable with the language each day. I know I need to work on my accent though, because often when I say something in Spanish, a local will respond in English.

Last night I went to a bar called The Black Sheep (in spanish) to meet a friend of Bash's sister from college. He's a party promoter here in BCN. We talked music over 3 giant pitchers of beer until we worked up the moxy to approach a table of southern bells from Vanderbilt. Bash offended one of the girls and the 9 of them left. Odd how thin-skinned southerners are when you tell them that you wish they had seceded from the Union.

Today we searched for a new apartment. Our living situation is less than ample. Bash and I high-five every night before bed, while in our beds. Weird? Yes, but you all wish you thought of it. (Not the high five itself, well maybe, but more so the beds being so close that you could execute it).

A cheesy James Bond villain was the real estate agent who showed us the apartment. It's brand new and located directly in our preferred neighborhood, the hooker district in between Robbertown and Muggerville. We'll see how it pans out.

Who knows what tonight has in store for me besides sloppy kisses and bear hugs. Check back at your convenience to find out.

High five!
DML