It's been two months and five days since we started this motorcycle trip. We thought we'd be in Colombia by now, but we've only gotten as far as Guatemala City. I don't think we can blame Claire, the motorcycle, for our tardiness since she only broke down once and we waited a week for parts. I think we are finally settling into our trip and have embraced the idea that a destination is much better than a deadline. We also figured out a way to make money.
We are getting to know each other better too. I know now, that when Kyle says he's got work to do, what he really means is that he needs to engage in controversial Twitter and Facebook topics that rile people up. When I say I'm getting work done, it usually means just reading and writing my random reflections and not publishing anything for the outside world to enjoy. In addition to blood and needles, Kyle does not like insects, including butterflies, which he calls cockroaches with wings. He has promised to not kill them, with the exception of if they land on him or "his bed", but has recently rescinded this promise. He consumes five times his body weight in calorie dense food on a daily basis, including not one, but two ice cream "snacks", but does not gain an inch. I, on the other hand, have felt my pants getting tighter and have learned to give him at least a 1/3 of my plate as a tithing. I also have learned that I need nine hours of sleep and a double espresso in the morning, while Kyle can forego sleep or liquids without noticing. He also does not need any toiletries, other than basic bar soap, to maintain his fresh-off-the-motorcycle good looks. In fact, the less grooming he does, the more manly and sexy he becomes somehow. Unfortunately for me, this logic does not hold true for women, and my looks have deteriorated rapidly in a way no makeup can hide. I have pimples popping up from my forehead to my chest, my skin has an oily glow that Kyle blames on the climate, my legs are covered in bug bite scabs, and my hair is a constant matted helmet-head mess, with the left half noticeably thinning from being tangled and ripped out from the intercom.
To my surprise, we were recently asked to model for an artisanal ice cream pop up stand, during one of our lactose snack breaks. After stuffing each other's faces with balsamic strawberry and turtle peanut butter flavors, it dawned on us that we could capitalize on this. Our new goal is to offer our modeling services to high-end hotels in exchange for room and board. However, we both realized that we would probably need visible abdominal muscles for pool shots. Which is why we are now going through a miserable ketosis flu after abstaining from carbs for three days. A bad plan is better than no plan, right? That's what Kyle always says.