I thought it'd take a couple of months.A quarter tops. It's been a year.So far, no good. It should've been a routine, run-of-the-mill, pick-the-best-of-the-bunch sort of affair. It wasn't. I've been balls-deep in the "process" for a year. Now, with a rounder midsection, an inflation-beating salary bump, wispy streaks of grey in the 'fro and firmly ensconced in my mid-30s, I am teetering on the edge of premature unclehood. Needless to say: I am #singleAF. What follows in these pages are some escapades of my life that actually happened in my seemingly eternal pursuit of the purest of all our traditions: an arranged marriage.