After a week of digging around various online dating sites – from the big catchall destinations to the more specific ones for pet lovers and Web pages designed to help a shopaholic find her metrosexual – I'm done with Recon. I'm now ready for Step 2: The Profile.

Might I point out that it's the seventh level of hell? The Profile is your relationship cover letter. No pressure not to screw it up.

There's trouble right off the bat in choosing a user name. Something witty perhaps, like "Nevermore," you know from "The Raven"? The poem? By Edgar Allen Poe? No? OK, no literature references. And since it's my deeply held belief that women over age 21 should not have a user name that includes the word "girl," going cute isn't an option. One popular site advises using letters and numbers in a way that tells something about you. "ImaRiteAboutUL8tr" sounds good.

Next, I have to describe my match, which causes a panic attack. If I already knew how to do that, I could find him in the real world, right? How specific do you get?

Some people get quite specific, and there's nothing wrong with that. But that's the kind of thing that makes Internet dating seem like a haven for every freak with a fetish. (Not that there's anything wrong with freaks, fetishes or any combination thereof.)

On the other hand, if you answer every question with "any," it seems a little desperate. Open-minded and liberal, sure. But it's just not natural to have no preferences at all.

I mix in a few specifics and an "any" here and there, then move on to describing myself. Oy. I think I'm going to lie. But honesty is the best policy, so here goes:

"I'm an intelligent, somewhat sane twentysomething who likes cuddling, long walks, playing outdoors, treats and shiny things. I'm loyal, faithful and seem to have an aversion to strangers. But I like french fries and ice."

Let's see how many winks my dog's profile gets.

If you're seriously interested in dating Bridgette's dog, get help – or e-mail her at brwilliams@quickdfw.com.