So as of approximately 72 hours ago, I am officially the only single girl left in my circle of friends. My last remaining single girl friend has abandoned ship and reeled in herself a man. I'm mixed between feelings of being extremely happy for her and horribly depressed for myself. Although, to be quite honest, I really have no one to blame for why I'm single but myself; I'm far too picky for my own good. But I am actually working on changing this, and by that I mean that I have gone on several dates this year. Yes, you read that correctly. I have gone on several dates. I know, you're not use to hearing the word "date" from me without "can't get a" or "hasn't gone on a" or "hell would have to freeze over and such unlikely events as world peace or the ending of world hunger or Lindsay Lohan winning an Oscar before I would ever go on a" in front of it. My roommate told me how proud she was of me. I said, "More proud than that time I saved that kid from that burning building?" She said she would be, had I actually saved a kid from a burning building. I figure that I need to give people more chances rather than forming judgements and opinions right away. The effect of this is probably what you can predict: I usually end up only going on one date with these guys because my suspicions are often confirmed. It's what I like to call The First Date Curse. I never make it to a second date.

My friend, lets call her "Kari", has a boyfriend who recently relocated for a job; so until she graduates and moves down there to be with him, she has a lot more free time. She has taken it upon herself to play matchmaker. I value her opinion on guys, because her boyfriend is actually a really great guy. This might be because he is caring and nice, or it might be because he wasn't at all weirded out when I asked him if the carpet matched the drapes. This led to a spontaneous conversation regarding pubic hair, which then led to a comment by "Kari" telling me that the next time I have sex with a guy, I need to make sure he knows it's BYO Lemon Pledge, because there's probably some serious cobweb build-up going on down there. "And remember, Ashley," she said, "Go WITH the grain, not against it."

Where was I before I went off on my pubic hair tangent? Oh, The First Date Curse. This curse is not helpful at all and I'm trying to get passed it. I told one of my other friends that this was my year, that 2009 was the year I was going to get engaged. I just had to get a few things in line: first, I have to find a guy that I can spend more than 2 hours with and not be completely irritated by him. Next, I need to get this guy to agree to be my boyfriend. Then, I need to trick him into falling in love with me. And lastly, I have to convince him that spending $10,000 on an engagement ring would be a good decision for him. Once the "I do's" happen, it's too late for him to turn back. I still have 8 months to get this to happen. Oh man, I pity that poor bastard. Probably sitting out there, right now, on a couch watching ESPN, completely unsuspecting. He never had a chance. (I should note right now that most of this paragraph is a joke. I say this to prevent coming off like a crazy person. . .although, I do have a vagina and I am a woman and therefore crazy by default.)

On a completely unrelated, irrelevant topic as a way to end this article: have you ever had a moment that just completely humbles you to the core? You know, like you see someone less fortunate than you giving their last penny to someone who has even less than them? Or you hear about some guy rescuing his entire family from a car wreck? I just had one of those moments. I just realized that my underwear is on inside out. 23 years old and I can still manage to put my underwear on inside out. Well, I guess the better statement would be, 23 years old and I still think it's acceptable to sit around in my apartment in my underwear. My roommate and I, I have recently discovered, are underwear people. I mean, I always knew I was; I enjoy doing pretty much everything in my underwear: folding laundry, writing blog entries, re-wiring a light fixture in my living room. I didn't know my roommate was an underwear person until the other day, when I went to go into her room and she was in there gift wrapping presents. . .in her underwear. It was quite the bonding experience.