The only thing I hate about being single is being the only single person at the Thanksgiving dinner table. Everyone wants to know if you have any prospects and when you'll be getting married. At my age, my parents want grandkids. They have a grand-dog and they better be happy about it because that's all they're getting for at least another 10 years.

Point blank: I just want to talk about something other than my relationship status while i gobble 'til I wobble.

Throughout most of the meal I feel as though I am sitting in the interrogation room in front of Olivia Benson who is about to climb on the table and wrap her hands around my neck if I don't answer her question the way she originally intended for me to. My favorite question is, "Are you lonely?" IF I was, this dinner table with 40 of my closest relatives is not the place to discuss my mental instability. I don't even have time to be lonely.

Aside from time constraints, my standards are so high that it will be damn near impossible for me to tolerate another human being long enough for them to sit at my parent's dinner table for next year's thanksgiving.

All of my friends are married, except for a select few. Maybe not even that many. Most of them have children. I have a dog and a job, and I struggle to find enough time for both of those.

Being single is only agonizing when I am prepping myself for the interrogation that is ahead.

Being single is not always wonderful. I'd be lying if I said it was. However, a large majority of the time, I relish in the single life. Want a new tattoo? Get one. Want to lay in bed for a week? Do it. Want to clear out your bank account and take a wild vacation? There is no better time than now. You want a $2,000 pair of Christian Louboutin's? Buy the freaking shoes! (I always recommend buying the shoes.)