The kitchen at my house has seen remarkably little action lately. I'm on the Dukan Diet. I eat mostly deli meat, yogurt and various meats. The one thing I consistently cook every day is a batch of oat bran pancakes, which are not very delicious. But I've lost 8 pounds in a week. And I'm determined to keep going.

This diet has made my food fantasies run amok. I remember foods I've eaten in hopeless elegies. I can't stop thinking about tacos. Do you think tacos will remember me the next time I move to kiss them hello? Or will they look at me, pause for a moment, and walk away feeling certain they'd never met me? Will I chase after them? Or will I just wince and walk in the opposite direction. Oh, tacos.

Sigh. And all I do is tweet about the diet. Which makes me one of those horrible boring people who talks about their diet all the time. Oh well.

The goal is that, eventually, I'll be able to eat what I want after miraculously attaining my goal weight and stabilizing my body and my metabolism in such a way that I won't immediately balloon again.