Jesus, Mary, Joseph and the donkey they drove in on. I'm awfully cranky.

I think there's a good reason why and if you're willing to continue reading, e-mail me your address and I will send you flowers tomorrow for your forbearance tonight.

I've been on a serious diet for the past three weeks. Not the odd "I think I'll fast for a day to clear out my colon" or "I'll eat only lentils for three days so I can fit into those skinny jeans." No, this is a balls-out, must atone for a summer of sin kind of diet.

Jewels sort of summed it up for me. He recently rubbed his belly like an expectant mother and said, "You know, it's a lot of work to keep this weight on." I wish it was. What I do know is that it IS a lot of work to take it off.

I don't regret a moment of any of my sinning, of course. The lure of fried foods at street fairs, copious plates of BBQ, an ice cold beer on a hot day. It's heaven. The summer was made for my kind of sinning. Which is why I spend fall working it off. I recently pulled all my winter clothing from storage and was alarmed that last season's pants and slim skirts were snug in the hips. I started to get the feeling I was being followed and realized it was my ass. I can't shake an overly morbid fear or developing a double chin or underarm wattles. Playtime is over.

What works best for me is a strict no sugar/no alcohol/no carb diet, which technically is totally contrary to my way of life. It does allow swine and cheese (in doses), so I'm not totally adrift. A few months of this and I'm back to my fighting form. I've learned how versatile soy can be (although steer clear of it baked as a bread substitute unless you enjoy the taste of a kitchen sponge). It's advantageous that I really like green vegetables. You develop a new appreciation for members of the nut family. Hot sauce becomes a fast friend.

Today, I felt grumpy thinking about those few foods I was missing in particular. Fried wings and margaritas from Ariba, Ariba. Vegie burgers with bacon from Artie's. Sesame bagels with scallion schmear from H&H. Ribs slathered with spicy sauce. Grits with cheese from the Tick Tock Diner. Sauvignon blanc and gin martinis. Lamb gyros with extra tsatsiki sauce. Quaker Oats porridge with raisins on Sunday mornings. Granny Smith apples. Cheese gougeres from Artisinal. That's really it.

When I got home, I opened the closet and glared hard at the pleated wool pants from Banana Republic, the mauve pencil skirt from Anthropolgie, the black knit sheath dress from Zara. Mock me now, you bastards. In only a few more weeks, I'll be the one laughing.

Time to go heat up the soy burgers for dinner.