I closed with a line fed to me by my glamorous, sassy, and long-married friend: "Drop me a note if you think we have a chance at being best friends who also have great sex."Within two days, I had over 200 messages in my inbox, teeming with photos of private jets and invitations to concerts by the bands I'd listed in my Favorite Things.
The endless grind of auditions—and trying to get them—means I'm well-practiced at barreling through serial humiliations by telling myself the game-changer is just around the corner. Acting and online dating live on it. But what acting didn't always give me—a sense of acceptance—online dating did.
Online daters often complain of the feeling of "people shopping" on the sites. In profile-land, my upscale Everywoman look—which had consigned me to the 'interesting faces' pile for film auditions (read: not the love interest)—somehow translated to tasteful glamour online.
In fact, if you've ever run into me at a party in the last three years, you may have caught one of my enthusiastic how-to lectures on profile writing or how I developed my three-pronged screening process.
Picking up where Bridget Jones' reviled "smug-marrieds" left off, I became a member of an equally suspect species: the smug online dater.Related: But even star players strike out.
Six months in, I finally suggested that we get counseling.
This set off a volcanic-level rage that ended with his speeding away and worried questions from my neighbors.
He was the first man I introduced to my family in seven years.
I was so relieved to have companionship that I overlooked the temper flare-ups that would send me to the next room to recover.
I was shaken and heart-broken, but it occurred to me that I'd written a profile that promised the fantasy of a relationship.