Being single is underrated. Sure, there are moments of loneliness that settle in every now and then, but at times like that I chose to focus on the things that are really super amazing and awesome about being single.
1) The Whole Not Getting Knocked Up Thing: Guess what, kids? Turns out the Catholic Church was right, abstinence really IS the best way to avoid pregnancy (unless you're the Virgin Mary)! This has also proved to be cost-effective, since there are few things I love to do more than take expensive pregnancy tests after I've been within five feet of a real, live man. So thank you, men, for staying away and thereby providing me with free birth control.
2) Abandoning The Two Forks Lie: I'm a sweets girl. Put chocolate on just about anything and I will order it off the menu. So the last thing I want to do when I've just ordered something called Chocolate Orgasm of Chocolate Death Love is share. I DON'T WANT TWO FORKS. I want to eat ALL of the Chocolate Orgasm of Chocolate Death Love myself. If not now, then I want to take it home and sneak-eat it at 3 in the morning by the light of the refrigerator like the normal woman that I am. But that's like 20th date behavior. There's a certain level of intimacy I need to have with a man before I'm comfortable reaching across the table and biting his hand when he tries to get near my Chocolate Orgasm of Chocolate Death Love. Being single means I don't have to pretend that I'm down with him wanting to get two forks so we can share. The Chocolate Orgasm of Chocolate Death Love is ALL MINE, MOTHERFUCKER.
3) Accepting That My Digestive System Exists: There are few worse things about dating than reaching that inevitable point in the relationship where you're spending so much time together that you can no longer hide the fact that you are a human and, as such, have a digestive system that, if it functions normally, will demand to be reckoned with. In other words, YOU CAN'T HOLD IT FOREVER. Eventually, your body is going to be like, "Look, we get that you like this guy and you'd rather wait until he has gone home or until the middle of the night when you're sure he's asleep so you can go use the downstairs bathroom without worrying that he'll wake up and be all on to you, but here's the thing...you've been holding it for 3 days now. We tried to warn you last night with that whole fart-in-your-sleep-and-wake-you-up-thing. But here you are, still trying to talk yourself out of it. Cut the shit, sister. Everyone poops. Now get to it already before we make you VERY sorry. We have ways of doing that. You don't even want to know." As a single woman, however, I don't have such problems. My body says, "Hey!" and I'm all, "Oh, right, okay" and that's it, the beautiful dance happens seamlessly, wherein I eat all of the Chocolate Orgasm of Chocolate Death and my body properly digests it. That is called harmony. And it is good.
4) I Always Control The TV: Sometimes I just want to sit and watch a re-run of Grey's Anatomy from back when it was good. Especially if it's the one where Denny dies and Izzy is crying in her pink dress and everything is all Snow Patroly. OR if it's the one where George dies and the way you know he dies is because Izzy is being resuscitated and then she's all pretty and getting on the elevator in that pink dress and you're thinking that's a bummer, Izzy is dead right now, and then the elevator doors open and OH. SHIT. IT'S. GEORGE. In his Army uniform. Oh my God. So, sometimes I want to just sit and watch that and cry a lot and not have to worry that someone is sitting on the couch next to me sneaking a peek to see if I'm crying because OF COURSE I AM. It's practically Pavlovian; if Izzy's in the pink dress then bad things are happening and crying will commence immediately. Being single means I don't ever have to watch football. Instead, I can watch people die on TV. You might just have to take my word for it that this is better. But it is. I swear.
5) No Pressure To Cook Anything Fancier Than Grilled Cheese Sandwiches: My friend Karen and I used to say that we were going to write a cookbook called "How To Bake A Potato" because this was the kind of lame stuff that, when were both first married and realizing that cooking at home was a lot cheaper than getting Papa Gino's pizza every night, we had to look up. But then the internet came along and sort of shit all over that plan, so thanks for THAT, Al Gore. Eventually I learned how to cook well enough to sustain two small humans and not cause heart disease or food poisoning in my ex-husband or myself. Now the men I cook for are 8 and 10, so the general consensus is that if you can dip it in ranch and/or ketchup, then it's good eats. If I were dating, I'd most likely be whipping out the GOOD recipes once I found a guy worthy of my spending 3 hours in the kitchen for a meal that takes all day to cook, dirties every pot and pan I own, and takes all of 15 minutes to eat. But until then, it's grilled cheese.
Cut diagonally if I'm feeling all fancy and shit.