Travel Betty

If you're new here, you may want to subscribe to my RSS feed. Thanks for visiting!

1. I have no willpower. Where I can usually fix a portion-controlled meal for myself, buffets access a carnal area of my brainstem causing me to feast, lest I endure famine.

2. The food sucks, typically. Even though I am not enjoying the uncooked beans, the wet, flavorless chicken parts and bones, or the dry bread threatening my gag reflex, I continue eating, attempting to fill an unnamed need.

3. The shame is too great. A first trip for salads. A second for meats. After that I become self-conscious about returning again. Who is watching me? Do they know I’ve come up twice already? The guy manning the carving station looks judgmental. How do I sneak dessert?

4. There is always post-buffet discomfort. Heading back to my cabin stuffed so full as to be sick. My belly sloshes from side to side. My shirt rides up. I wish it would all just shift down into my intestines already to provide a false sense of relief.

5. Long-term repercussions. I have abused myself and my body sets out to keep me from forgetting it. Regardless of the negative reinforcement each time I step into the bathroom, I know my masochistic tendencies will rear their heads again at 5pm and then again tomorrow at 9am, 1pm & 7:30pm. Repeat until disembarkation.

Last Minute CRUISE deals on Orbitz.com!