Guat, like guac, only prettier

I just purchased a ticket to this place:


It's real. I'm going to Guatemala this December.

I've gone through a bit of a journey making the decision to take this trip. Even though I'm going for a wedding where I will know plenty of people, I experienced days of irrational fear that I would end up sleeping alone on a beach, unable to communicate with the locals, and having my organs stolen.

I know that sounds horribly naive and ignorant. It is. I was being a baby.

As with all things that make me anxious, doing hours of obsessive research made me feel better. And it also reminded me of how adventurous I can be when I make the choice to be. My friend Larissa and I planned a month-long trip a year after college that took us all around the coast of Ireland, sleeping in hostels (and sometimes sketchier locations). I spent the first week of that trip completely alone in London and Edinburgh, and I didn't blink. I had one of the best times of my life.

Sometimes I feel like an old soul. I don't have a lot of wanderlust, but when I do travel, it reminds me I'm young. That I always will be as long as I stretch myself.

So now it's passport, and shots, fretting about sleeping arrangements, and, assuming I can find my LA Public Library card, practicing my Spanish on their access to Rosetta Stone.