"Dear sir...."

A week in on match.com and I'm realizing how much it is like a job search.

*Profiles are the resumes.

Except that every guy likes to pretend they are "driven", while at the same time, "pretty laid-back." And no one does not like to "hit the bar with friends." Which would never cut it on a cover letter.

*Sometimes you have to send 20 e-mails to receive one response.

It's easy to read that a person is considerate to his mother, subscribes to The New Yorker, likes to run on the Charles and reads the Sunday paper for four hours over coffee and believe that you, and no one but you, must be his soulmate. Any 30-something female in the greater Boston area would want to snag this guy and I am, most likely, one of 50 people writing him daily. Like how every high school student with a 4.0 g.p.a. applies to Harvard.

I'm still waiting on a response from my witty and enthusiastic e-mail to the stand-up comedian. And working on the other 19 I should send out today.

*A profile should be tailored not only to your strengths, but to your audience.

Originally I didn't think mentioning my love of The New Yorker and piano bars was tailored to attract 47-year-old divorced truck drivers from Worcester. I thought it might attract men from Boston who read The New Yorker and liked piano bars.

Still learning, here.

One of my better male friends, today, suggested that a smart, literate guy from Cambridge who runs, boats and owns his gorgeously-renovated triple-decker might be snagged with irony-drenched wit. That I might do this snagging by telling him up front that my match.com searching is part of the larger social experiment of my life. That I'm writing a blog about it.

And asking him, do you want to be a part of it?

Hmmmmm...