(It’s now been 3, but here are some thoughts from my first week in Guatemala… also check out www.DIWYY.com for upcoming posts on my Guatemalan adventures!)

I’m tired.

I mean like, I arrived exhausted. Because Spirit Airlines freaking SUUUUCKS. (Cheap flight yes, but a totally miserable experience.) And our legroom was frightfully reminiscent of those anti-meat protest photos with pictures of chickens all squished together.

Sleep had since remained elusive. Lots of dust, new allergens, constant firecrackers (continually mistaken as gunfire), pillows that are aggressively uncomfortable (the pillow issue here is epidemic)… and moths. I have a very deep-seated and totally irrational (but nonetheless powerful) fear of moths.

Also of note: I’m VERY concerned about developing cankles. And no. I’m not even kidding. Wearing stupid little flat sandals on this derelict cobblestone is making the front and sides of my ankles and lower calves excessively achy and I’m quite fearful this is because muscles are being built in new, unflattering places… perhaps with the eventual result of cankles???? Also. There seems to be a national obsession with salt. Which is not helping. And I mean. How would one remedy cankles? Like, let my legs atrophy from the knee down? How long would that even take? Really. Very. Concerned.

And while I’m being a crazy chick, let me just say… There are no mirrors here. The lack of full-length mirror accountability, in particular, is no bueno. I forget to be self-conscience. It’s a problem. I’ll hop on Skype and think- “WOAH! Umm… how about some mascara, Chica!”And I know my jeans are fitting a little bit more snug- I blame comfort eating. It’s the only familiar thing I can do! (And. I found an AMAZING falafel place. They also serve freaking sweet potatoes fries. Again. NOT HELPFUL. After next week. I swear: NO MAS!)

I have a gnarly bruise on arm from carrying my bags. And ADM (that’s my new Spanish version of OMG. “Ay Dios Mio”), you should have seen me as I arrived. Complete disaster. (WAY worse than Japan.) One carry-on bag in hand, a soft guitar case slung across my chest (a poser for now, but I’m committed to learning), and a giant Gregory “I hiked Whitney on my way to LAX before heading to Europe for the summer” back pack, peaking over the top of my head… cautiously looking around me at the Guatemala airport with an newly instilled, unfortunate, and more or less unfounded paranoia brought on by a battery of concerns from fearful loved ones who went Guatemala Google crazy.

The feeling of loss still lingers as I think about a couple special goodbyes that twisted my heart in a teary mess. I cried a bit on the plane as I left behind some roads I’m very much still hoping to explore, and of course, some friends I’m very much going to miss. But I’ve only cried twice since arriving. And for those who know me well, that’s impressive. Usually, it doesn’t take much more than a solid Folgers commercial to incite tears. But I think I’ve just been so totally overwhelmed- the places, the people, the air I’m breathing, these new sights I’m ingesting…. Awe, confusion, and intrigue have moved in to even the most remote places in my heart, crowding out the option for crying.

And let me just reiterate: I AM NOT a traveler.

I thrive in comfort. I love familiarity. Cozy, comfy, and safe are the fastest ways to my heart. These things pair with “traveling” about as well as chocolate with Chardonnay.

So I’m giving myself some time to adjust. I recognize that for now, most of my struggles are shallow. I’m confident that this adventure will present some legit opportunities for growth…. aaaaand comedy. But for now a little grace period of superficial, comfort-inducing expenditures is in order… just until I feel cozy and safe.