Blame it on the alcohol...

I felt his finger slip under the top of my shorts and slowly inch towards my buttcrack. So I bit. Hard.

"Ooooooh" was his reaction. Apparently he liked it. Whatever, at least his hand is out of my pants. My ass is secure - mission accomplished. I may be drunk, but I don't ever give up the goodies to strangers.

"You're fiesty, I like it."

"Asians are dragons, dude." I slurred. Maybe not those exact words, but a similiar rendition and equally embarrassing. I think I may have actually hissed at him too. But it's ok. Because I'm drunk.

At 26, this is my first time being a single woman since the 10th grade. I've always been in long-term relationships. As soon as one ends, I jump into another. Even what starts out as a casual fling end up turning into a two year relationship.

Then I get scared and back out.

So every time I find myself single, horny and blurry-eyed, it is inevitable I will be locking lips with a stranger in some dark corner of the club. I regret it later when I'm getting ready for bed and compulsively rinsing my mouth out with Listerine, but I figure you only live once. I might as well get it out of my system while I'm still young. No body wants to see a nasty forty year old cougar in a minidress trying to catch herself some fresh meat.

This is actually a genuine fear of mine.

I'm slowly inching towards thirty. I fear marriage and committment. It's no surprise I feel this way. Growing up, I used to ask my parents to get a divorce. Do I want love and stability? Yes. But there is a part of me that will always wait for the other shoe to drop.

Until I fix my issues, I will remain a single woman forever with an endless string of boyfriends, but never husbands. Sometimes I feel ok with that. Other days I wonder what my life has come to.