Editor's note: Please welcome Jaundréa as our new Single File scribe! Fans of Ball & Chain, check out Dustin Coleman and Clint Hale every first Wednesday of the month for deep thoughts on marriage, kids and not getting any.

Many singles columns I've read offer priceless nuggets of advice to help us relationship-impaired (poor, unfortunate souls) navigate these treacherous seas of dating and snag that elusive fish in it.

Sorry if I got your hopes up, but this is no such column. If it were and I possessed any dating savvy, I wouldn't be writing it — either because I wouldn't be single, or because I wouldn't share my expertise. Hey, it's a dog-eat-dog-or-cat-or-whatever-it-can-take-a-bite-out-of world. I take what I can get.

But, as my predecessor, Vianna Davila, acknowledged, we're all in the same boat. Sometimes we're sunning on the deck, and sometimes we're taking on water. Sometimes the biting's good, and sometimes we reel in an empty line. Or sometimes the fish is too small.

I don't know how it happened to me. I was just going with the flow and then BAM! I found myself in my late 20s with no ring. I'm not panicking or anything; there's still time (how many times have I said that?!). I'm just sure this wasn't on my to-do list.

But sometimes, the best-laid plans are waylaid. And by best-laid plans, I mean my fantasies as a whimsical fifth-grader when I decided that when I grew up I was going to be a ballerina and lawyer, meet my husband in college (who had to be at least 6 foot 3, play basketball and cook for me), marry soon after college and have seven kids by the time I was 30 (I didn't understand that whole gestation period thing. Give me a break, I was 10).

While in college, I ditched the tutu and relaxed the height requirement. As graduation neared, I abandoned my legal dreams, fell in love with writing all over again, and learned how to cook for myself (anything microwaveable counts).

And I didn't find my husband. And still no rugrats. 0 for 5.

I think the reason the single reality blindsides us is because marriage is not a matter of urgency. Our priorities change, our focuses shift and our fantasies definitely morph (let's not go there).

We start new careers. We travel the world. We find ourselves. We let someone get away. We break a few hearts. We get really used to coming and going as we please and answering to no one. We realize it's not so bad.

And that's not even the half.

I don't know how you got in this boat, shipmate, and frankly it doesn't matter. We're here, and it's going to be a sometimes choppy and nauseating, but mostly smooth and exhilarating ride. Life jackets are not supplied, so bring your own. And I hope there's a GPS system installed — somebody needs to know where we're headed.