I'm no longer single. I'm all hooked up. This is really, really weird. I've spent the better half of five years livin la vida bachelor, and now, I'm not. Things change in an instant. It makes me feel awkward, because as long as I've done this column, I've given you me. My jaded but oddly upbeat outlook, peppered with the smoky breath of a twenty something cynic, doing a nonchalant and indifferent backstroke through the dating pool.

It has been said that swimming is great for your back, which I was happy to spend a considerable amount of time on during that period, but as always, if you spend too much time in that pool, you begin to pucker, which started to happen to me. I looked like a raisin, and smelled like perfume flavored beer.

Now, things are different. I'm more relaxed. I only tense when I'm home at midnight, instead of my favorite saloon. My barological clock ticks violently, demanding attention. Instead, I say, “Boy, that was a great movie! Wanna hit the sack honey?”

What happened to the dating pool, you ask? Well, it's like this.

I'd approach the evening like Gregg Louganis did at the Olympics. I'd stand proud, overlooking the pool, take the stance to plunge, do so, and whap my head on the concrete. The difference between me and Louganis, preferences aside, is that he plummeted into a pool of water, and I most likely did onto a sidewalk in front of a crowd of seven at Bill's pizza at two in the morning. Some guys get all the glory.

Tired of bruises, tired of water in the ear, lungs, and bed sheets, I decided that I should start dating somebody. The time was now. Time to fill the void in my life with trust and compassion, settle down, and stop being such an asshole. My decision was final, and I was prepared to act fast. That was about two years ago.

Swimming in the dating pool was a lot of fun, though. It really gave me a chance to find out what qualities to look for in a woman, what I like, what I don't like, but most of all, it's the healthiest dose of reassurance I ever got It made me realize I didn't have nearly as many problems as I thought. If you think you have problems, I've got a few phone numbers for you. I sure can't use them anymore.

I never cared for the thrill of the chase. The thrill of the chase is for people who are good at running with their beer without spilling it. And when you're two fisting, forget about it.

I like being chased; it's like watching people at the gym, instead of actually exercising. It's more fun, and far less effort. Being pursued by a female always allowed me to figure out what they were all about real quick. I could decide whether or not I was interested in one fell swill. In September, I was pursued by such a girl, and I've been with her ever since.

More than ten people have asked the same question upon hearing the news…

“So what are you going to write about now?”

Umm…. good question. I haven't thought about that yet. Perhaps my writing days are numbered. I'm sure, like every other task else in my life, I'll find a new way to fail, humiliate, and humor my self all at the same time, and package it together with the assistance of Microsoft's seeing eye paperclip, his trusty little thesaurus, and Parliament cigarettes. Don't fear the reaper.