Sevilla Later: Binge Edition

The day I returned from my month-long stay in England, my parents, driving me home from the airport, asked what I wanted to do on my first day back in the states. "Go to a diner," said I, a born-and-bred Diner State girl, and the 'rents promptly obliged. Therewith, I proceeded to pig out on mozzarella sticks, potato skins (this was pre-vegetarianism) and other various and nefarious fried foods that are hard to come by abroad.

So, with less than a week left before the move to Spain, I made a list of all the foods I knew I could not get (or wouldn't be as good) overseas and therefore had to eat before my departure. These included, but were not limited to: a bagel, sushi, a slice of pizza, popcorn, cheese fries, pickles, et al. This weekend, I went on a bender, aided in part by the free pizza available with every drink purchase at Crocodile Lounge. The evidence...

First, on Saturday night, the pizza:



Then, the morning after, I ate like I was on vacation.



From left to right: pancakes; cheese fries with gravy on the side (for people who like that sort of thing); onion rings (not pictured); grilled cheese with bacon and tomato; mashed potatoes; roast beef sandwich (I did not partake); BLT (not pictured, also not eaten, though I did snag the pickle); scrambled eggs; and a Diet Coke, which is more syrupy here than the Coke Lite available everywhere else in the world.

It tasted oh-so-good going down and I expectedly felt disgusting the rest of the day, both physically and emotionally. In fact, I feel so full I don't think I'll need to eat anything until I actually arrive in Spain on Saturday.