It’s been a mere 26 hours since my hot yoga girlfriend hopped a train to Blo-No and I honestly don’t know what to do with myself in her absence. I looked in the closet a couple times. I did the dishes. I checked out the ads that are on my myspace page (cures for narcissism and websites about Animal Farm). All of these point to the inevitable conclusion that I am a sad sack. It’s not that I’m bored, or restless, or even without amenities like frozen pizza and triple sec, it’s that the energy I usually expend on her hasn’t been…expended. This leads me to wonder what I did when I was single or not binge dating every other night. The short list includes:

– Google stalking
– reading Scanner
– trying to seduce people
– making frozen pizza and
– drinking triple sec

Occasionally I would go for a run or hit the duvet with my drum sticks, which have been accidentally dyed pink due to an unfortunate incident involving The Muppets and Hair-in-a-Can. This sad sackedness resonates all too well with The Story of O, which I bought back in December but am finally getting around to reading. It’s a French S/M novel written in the 1950s that hinges on the theme of paradox; namely that nothing is more liberating than complete and utter enslavement. One of my exes told me that what I wanted most was to be controlled in a relationship. I vehemently argued against her at the time. Though now, I wonder. Not control in the sense of you-say-jump-I-say-how-high but in the need to be needed, in the rebirth that can only come from total annihilation.

“The only kind of transformation that interests me is total transformation, no matter how minute.” Susan Sontag

I love that she instills that in me, turns it into restless energy whenever she is absent, creates meaning out of loss. I do believe there is great power in submission. Therefore, from the depths of mindless pacing comes…THIS BLOG. Fizzlesizzlepop.