Spinster Services

No, this is not implying what your little dirty imaginations may think. This is a lot more of a serious twist to my single life. I have discovered that I can be an excellent match maker! You can just imagine my dearest Chablis face when she found out that I had been chatting up a guy for her on Saturday at the good old Notting Hill Social Club, aka Westbourne Studios. Ok, she wasn't entirely pleased, but hey - what can you do? She had a migraine and went home and then he appears. Suddently, the hours and hours of listening to her in detailed explaination of her perfect man makes sense! He is bloody standing in front of me! Tall, broad, dark, latin complete with even nerdy jeans and a crooked big nose. Mr Perfect!

So what can you do? I have never been much of a shy little mouse, so I clamp over to him with and introduce myself and my mission (while keeping an eye on his hands, have to be of considerable size for my Chablis). The guy answers me blushing in broken English in his polite and well manners banker-style: Well, thank you, I will consider meeting with her when I am moving from Madrid to London in three months. Perfect. We can already start counting in dates in April for lovely Chablis. And I am just soooo sure they will be perfect for eachother. Despite her somewhat lunatic friend. Which I also told him.

Anyone else needs some assistance? Just send over your type and measures and I will haul up my periscope.

Compensation? Put it this way, I am dear but good.

Hola!

An easy cookie?

let him read your palm and guess your sign
let him take you home and treat you so fine
but baby, don't let him waste your time

You ain't getting no younger and
you've got nothing to show
so tell him that it's now or never
and then go go go go go!!!

he can have his space and
he can take his time and
he can kiss ya where the sun don't shine
but baby, don't let him waste your time

Jarvis Cocker, pretty Pulp boy and lovely Nancy Sinatra in a perfect harmony. Does it get any better? Super duper fucking music, as some old fart said in the 70'ties.

So, I took her word for it and told Mr Sketch "Darling, you are wasting my time". And after 5 nightly phone calls and some sulky texts, he reluctantly understood and agreed. He confessed straight out that he wants the eat the cake and have it. But this cookie doesn't play that game. She wants to either be swinging single or involved. Anything in between is just... waste of time.

But I was not that sinister. After all I am very understanding and kind.... So, I dried his tears and told him we could try and be friends. So we will give it a shot. But if there is any thing close to time wasting, I am out of it. And the space will be emptied like a tin jar close to the cookie monster.

Passionate wonderings

"So, is it passion then? Do you get really warm when you think of him? Does he make your heart spin?", my old friend from Stockholm inquires about Mr Sketch. He himself found the lady of his dreams when he was 22 and since then he hasn't understood that there are ANY other women in the world. He got totally smitten, fallen and devoted to her. "Well", I answer, "I really like him, we have a lot of fun together and I am very attracted to him", I answer. And this is really the truth. I am not fooling myself or being in love with love. But I like Mr Sketch a lot. And I enjoy being with him and I listen to him and talk to him and he makes me feel good about myself. But passion? No, not really.

For instance, yesterday we had the best of dates. He called in the morning to ask I want to come up to Hampstead Heath to go for a walk in the snow with him and have lunch. And after some thinking and going through my workload, I say yes. I just love the Heath and the thought of sneaking away in the snow and the sun, sounded wonderful. So off I went. And it was just great. He collected me fully equipped in parkas and wellies and gloves and I had a big woolly hat on and my skiing gloves. We looked really silly. Silly and enthusiastic like two 7-years old.

But passion? Nah, not sure. It feels really good to be with him, but not painful or difficult or stiff or like the chest is tight and the breathing is short. And I don't think of him all the time. Is this not passion then? What is passion and is passion always good? How should something feel when it is right?

Again friends, only time will tell. Always rely on time. As long as the seconds of your clock are moving it their normal speed forward, we get closer to all our answers.

Finding: The Key to Success

"But honey, why are you so demanding? You're never like this with your friends and family?", my lovely Charlie says on a cracked mobile phone when we go through the latest and greatest from Mr Sketch. And of course he is right. Isn't it curious what personality traits that suddently appear once you start being interested in a guy? Before this state occurs you can be just as easy-going, encouraging, sparkling and not-that-bothered. But as soon as you feel a little teeny weeny emotional about someone you become scared and easy to hurt. Hence a demanding and a bit stroppy character appears. A stropper, this is what we do NOT want to be. Lovely word though ;-). A stropping stropper.

The Mr Sketch-thing has improved. A bit because of my initial stropping though, which was partly also just being truthful. But the past days I have been a little sparkling star only. We had a cosy Friday evening with dinner and dvd chez moi. He had brought with him a film that I had to see if I was living in England: "Withnail and I". Which really was awfully cute of him. And today he called when he was in the area to see if I wanted to meet up for lunch. I liked that. Unexpected and very relaxed. (Plus he had a suit on and much as I know this sounds very not 2007, but hey, some men really do look fantastic in suits)

So from now on, I will be what they say in the super Swedish relationship drama from late 90'ies "Adam och Eva": Kåt, glad och tacksam. Translates to "Horny, Happy and Grateful".

Easy.

Age matters?

My new friend Mr Big de Stockholm has been rather limited in the dating world. Doesn't have time, he claims. And cannot really blame him for being reluctant. He tried out net-dating once. And was meeting up a bird in the age group 35-40 who said she valued "sincere and honest guys who played with open cards". (Ok my friend, a word of advice from someone a bit more experienced; this might not be the most original thing to say. But fair enough.) During this rather pleasant date his brain started CV-calculation and soon enough realized that something was rotten in the state of Stockholmland. So he pops the forbidden q: "Darling, how old are you really?" And as on a given signal, the beauty started to cry and out came the sincere and honest truth. She is 50. So much for values. A paradoxal fox.

And then we have my gorgeous Ms Prada Finland, now happily separated from Shorty and living it. She does things a bit the other way around. She also lies about her age. But not like any normal 32 years old, telling the young beauties that she is 27. No no. When Ms Prada meets a gorgeous 28 years old, she says she is 39 and starts whistling seductively to the tune of the Graduate, titulating herself Mrs Robinson. And enjoys every bit of her made up maturity.

I would love to be around when the relationship is getting more serious and Ms Prada needs to explain a few things to her cute tom-boy. "Hey babe, you know, I need to tell you something about myself, like my age... " The guy starts wriggling around realizing that she will probably be a very well kept 46-year old. "I am almost the same age as you, just a tiny few years older". A blank face appears. What can he say? Maybe he was dreaming of a mature old woman and now this? Maybe he thought: Great, just a super too-old-shag that will never be serious! But the same age? Most likely he will be speechless and pleased beyond belief about this sudden super-catch next to him.

One thing we do know, is that we never know.

Memories of a lifetime passed

My ex husband is having a child one of these days. I might already have arrived, but I haven't heard anything yet. Strange feeling. And of course a bit sad in a way. Probably adds on to my blues that I wrote about earlier. For so many years I was sure that us two would be parents. I remember I could see our children so clearly. I even made pictures and entertained his family at dinner time with stories about how these three clumsy blond big boys were pestering everyone's life at the summer house with their stinking and wet surfing equipment, golf sets splurted over the lawn and muddy football shoes. I just saw these guys getting their father's muscular body (with enormous hands and feet) and my height which could only result in giants. At the age of 12 they would already have outgrown any normal bed and their puberty acne and sweaty disorganized bodies would be impossible to have around other people. With the energy level of myself and my ex husband, they would no doubt be super Duracell rabbits too. And they would have been sweet and kind and caring. Just like their father.

Well well. No need to grief over this, the thought just hit me briefly. As I have written before, looking in the rear mirror makes driving impossible. I hope everthing goes well for them. And I really hope that they are happy.

January greens

Blues? What kind of word is this? What did this colour do wrong to get a whole range of moody and depressive connotations to him?

Anyway. Think I got a bit coloured this weekend. Probably a mix of flu sympoms lingering on and a little tiny bit of heart ache. Woke up this morning and had a teeny wheeny bit of self pity in my mind. I hate self pity by the way. And I really have NO reason to have any self pity whatsoever. And I mean this. I have a lovely and healthy family that love me, wonderful friends that I care about and who care for me, I am moving in to a dream flat in a dream area. Very little to complain about, eh? I actually also like my work, which is a bloody bonus! Still, this morning I felt that there is something missing in my life. Where is the big love? Where is the guy I am decorating this new flat with? Where is the skiing partner and the concert-buddie? Where is the wonderful lover that I wake up next to every morning and snuggle into his warm chest before getting into the cold reality? Ho hoo? Where are you hiding? Could we pls get an investigation on this case?

But then I talked on the phone with my lovely friend in Stockholm, had brunch with this fantastic gang that I am so lucky to have met, had a long walk with my dearest ms Kitty and then increased my phone bill with more life developing talks. And the blues disappeared very quickly. Turned into a more greener colour. Green as in clarity, content and harmony.

Speed limits?

"You and me we're goin' nowhere slowly
And we've gotta get away from the past
There's nothin' wrong with goin' nowhere, baby
But we should be goin' nowhere fast"

Nowhere fast. Lead song from one of the best rock musicals ever made, Streets of Fire. Does anyone remember it? I was 11, the year was 1984. Great lyrics. Question is if mr Sketch and I are going nowhere slowly? Or are we going somewhere ... slowly? It probably is so much wiser to be going somewhere slowly, but I'd rather be going somewhere fast.

Scope creepers

"..... so, should I give you a ring when I'm next back in London?" he finishes his long email. Eh? What? Hey, stop now, hold your horses please. This is not according to the rules and my plans. Sweet mister, we met in a bar, you were gorgeous and sweet, we made out, you came home with me, you went in the middle of the night ("have to get some sleep before flying about 600 people in a jumbo-jet three times around the globe plus maybe also a nip up to the moon blah blah blah"), you gave me a brief kiss on the cheek, you took my email address, and then you were gone. Like a New Zealand breeze in the clear sky. All according to plan. Perfect. Just what I really needed. And now this! Read my lips Captain, you are not supposed to email me and say sweet and intelligent things and suggest to meet up again! We went the whole way on the first night silly! You're not interested any longer remember! You're supposed to disappear and never be heard of again!

Bah. You never win, do you?

High Mortality Rates?

The very funny tom-boy Spain has a perfect explaination to the curse that seems to happen most people in this single-world: sudden disappearence of your dates. You know, you are seeing a guy (mostly this has to do with guys) for some while, you get along, might even really well, but it doesn't rock your worlds. It might do a tiny rocking to start with, but fades away. But you still see him and politely answer to his emails and telephone calls. Because you're a nice girl and he is a nice bloke after all. And all of a sudden the guy is gone, vanished, nowhere to be seen or found. Puts väck as we would say in Swedish. Tom boy Spain doesn't sit and whine about this. She wouldn't be seen dead griefing over a useless man who doesn't have the normal politeness of keeping in touch. He should be bloody flattered he even has your number in the phone! So, she concludes: He is dead! There is no other possible answer to why he's gone. Dead and never to be brought back to life.

Good bye.

NEXT!

Changes...

Found myself in an interesting position last Friday. New Year's party with the company. Always on these occasions I am usually one of these nice girls who bring along a nice boyfriend/husband that everyone likes and is just ... nice. This time around I was the... Sinister Spinster who stayed late and that the female spouses saw as a threat. Colleague's wife's comment "Well, I new you liked her, but you never told her she was a babe". Great, that's what I am. A babe. Hallelujah.

The weekend continued in a similar way, but with a new mantra stuck in my brain: "Out with what is old, in with what is new". You Swedes know this from New Years Eve ("ut med det gamla, in med det nya"). Am really fed up with my hotlist of guys for the moment. It's not just Mr Sketch's lack of communication but plainly because I am not interested any longer. It just disappeared. So I did a rebound on Sat night. A very cute Kiwi pilot. Lives in Auckland and is very rarely in the UK. Perfect clean out. And I am back on track.

Finding: The importance of being Earnest

My nature is rather clearly painfully honest and a bit temperamental. My mother called me “explosive” at some point. It’s probably true. And sometimes this is good. As when things are said that need to be ventilated.

Had lunch with Mr Sketch yesterday. And was not in a good mood. Pissed off to start with that he could only squeeze me in for a lunch when I have so much to do, and not any evenings this week. Plus his brief communication. So here I am, on our way to a date with a guy that I really like and feel like a stressed ape. It's probably these situations you should call in sick.

But I didn't. We met up and I got irritated with loads of small things: he was unshaven and were just slouching around when I had really made an effort and made myself look remarkably good. And we talked about flat-renovations, his separation and other stuff, like two friends. I felt no attraction nor spark nor nothing. Just irritation. And it didn't get better when he told me he was going to the Hockney exhibition with a "Gloria"-friend in the afternoon. For crying out! I thought he was really busy this week? I left the lunch with a couple of very non-engaged kisses and was in an incredibly bad mood. And dramatically promised myself to never see him again. Bah!

Arrived in a rainy Brux this morning. After the obligatory taxi-fight (brussels taxis are a story by itself) I get on my way to the office. Then he calls. And is extremely sweet and cute and has fallen ill after our lunch and wants to know how I am feeling. Food-poisoning. (And asked if I had poisoned him. Ha! He should have known how right he could have been....) And he called two more times today. First time he left a message about how he wants me to also be sick so we can snuggle all day. Then he called again just when I was on my way to the hotel. And somehow it crops up that I had been mad with him! And I tell him all about (ok, slight censur) how I had felt. Was thinking at the back of my head: I am going against all possible rules in the world now! This is NOT ok. The mantra rolled in my head "Do not show your feelings, do not pressure him, do not put blame on him for not seeing you enough or communicating". But I thought: To hell with that rubbish.

And it actually went down really well with him. He only sounded pleased and almost a bit... flattered! He laughed at me and called me his little Swedish Troll. And joked about that he will need to make up for this as soon as I am back from Sweden next week. And it made me feel so good, and not horrible at all.

Only a great man can change a monster into a little purring cat.

Secret truths?

Working like mad and should not be blogging. But need some therapy here in my lonely office. Seeing mr Sketch for lunch in about 2 hours. Will be fun. I am trying not to be too enthusiastic though. Keep getting these ridiculous emails from a man called Christian Carter about "How to catch a man and to keep him". This guy has made a fortune on "helping" women out in finding men. Which is basically all about keeping cool and don't rush into things. Which is what women have known in all times. Why I don't just unsubscribe to the emails? Because they intrigue me somehow. According to Mr C, these are the most common things women do when they realize that a man is pulling away (which only makes it worse):

A) Pretending you don't want anything serious either and keep on sleeping with the man "casually" in hopes that things will grow from the "physical relationship"
B) Staying close to him by trying to become his "best friend" as you help him in his life and with his problems - all the while imagining the "payoff" of a real relationship for your good deeds once he recognizes how great you are
C) Trying to make him jealous by telling him you're seeing other guys, even if you're not. Or going out with other guys and doing things withthem not because you like them, but because you want him to find out and want you back
D) Getting pissed off at him and telling him he's dumb, immature, and acting like a little BOY...and that he's just scared of a real relationship and a commitment - and then trying to get him to have a relationship with you to "fix" himself
E) Trying to make him interested in you by complimenting him, doing nice things for him, taking up things he's interested in to be around him... and being available to him at anytime heshould show interest. This is kind of like trying to be his "best friend", but different since it's often still sexual.

Being a very commercial American, he gives hints in his email of how to not scare the guys off to start with. But then you need to pay a dollar-fortune and buy his book and learn all there is to know. It's just below my dignity to buy any of that rubbish. I can tell you already what they say:

• Don't ask questions
• Be difficult and busy
• Make him come to you, don't call him
• Don't put pressure
• Be sexy and happy at all times

Why does this whole dating thing have to be so bloody complex? As far as I remember, when I met my ex husband, I never thought of anything like this! We just liked eachother from the start and it was all nice and dandy and loving and great. Was it because we were only 20-22 years old? Or was it because, we were just right for eachother?

How will I know?

Without doubt, my lovely Mr Sketch still does everything right: he calls when he says, he meets up with me as planned and, I think he agrees, we have a great time together. It's just so easy and fun and we have so much in common. Plus, we are very attracted to eachother. Yippee! But I'm getting to the point when I want to have more of him now. Am I too impatient? We've only met up maybe 4-5 times, but since beginning of December, but I don't feel like having a once-a-week-dating forever! Plus, his level of communication is rather low too. A little text every now and then would be rather nice...actually.

He is really busy all the time. Or is he? Or is he balancing some other 4 dates as well? Is he trying to stretch the dating period so he doesn't have to face all the complications that will come if he gets involved? His life situation is very messy indeed, agreed. He still shares flat with his old girlfriend that he broke up with last summer and for financial reasons they are sharing it until it can be sold. Would he get together with someone, this would obviously mean trouble. (My ex and I could only bear maximum 2 nights in our flat together after our 9-year-relationship/marriage-split-up. I don't understand how they can manage it!)

Where am I in all of this? A transition girl? A fun bird he sees and likes, but won't go any further with? Hm, not sure if I like this. Do I really like him that much that I want to go get deeper into all of this? As I've said before, time will tell.

Mathematical philosophies

Went to SPA with my lovely friend "the Oracle from Chiswick" yesterday. We spent the whole day in walking around like two tired zombies in white outfits. Paddling around in too big flip-flops. When we left I felt all cleansed out. Not a pore left with old champagne-parties, not a muscle tense from job/life/existance-worries, and best of all, a mind that saw the foggy London sky in a much clearer way. For spending a whole day with the Oracle in this closed environment is better spent than 3 days with a therapist.

Top of the Pops with the Oracle this time was the in-depth discussions about the Oracle's famous love-equation. According to The O, in order for a relationship and love to work out the following factors need to be in place:

Nose: Attraction, Pheromes.
Heart: Warm feelings of love.
Brain: Logic, rationality, sense

Hence, you cannot only be screamingly attracted to a person and want to tear his clothes off and make 100 babies (focused on production..) (NOSE), you also have to really like his person for the way he is without wanting to change him (HEART). Finally the BRAIN cannot be left out. As lovely as a tribe leader from the jungle would be, this might prove a very difficult match in the long run.

And during The O's insightful single-period (she is now very happily married) she also added another factor to the equation :TIMING. And the theory was that timing stands above everything else. So the equation developed to:

(HEART+BRAIN+NOSE)*TIMING

And as we discussed yesterday we concluded that HEART can develop as you go along. You will probably not love a person straight away, these are feelings that will come later. Brain CAN also be adjusted even it a person seems completely impossible to start with. NOSE however, can never be changed. If you don't have the right attraction to start with, it will most likely never develop. This can be a bit depressive sometimes. It is not difficult to find good men, but you just cannot imagine being close to them. My history is very much nose-oriented. As most people's histories are. It's very easy to just be super-attracted to someone and just hope that the rest will come along too. Often a source of disappointment.

And then TIMING. Question is, is timing really dominating the other elements? The O is certain here. If a person is not in the right timing for a relationship, are all the other factors are pointless to discuss. A person needs to be ready for love and for relationship. Basta.

I'm not really that sure. I am an optimist and not as rational as The O. I hope that the other factors will overtake the timing-question and just wash over all obstacles. It might take time and be a bit bumpy on the way. To me, the equation would rather be:

(HEART+BRAIN)*NOSE=TIMING

To me I believe Timing is more of an excuse because the other factors are missing or because people are so screamingly afraid of being hurt. It would of course be absoultely lovely to meet someone where all the factors are in place, including timing. But isn't it more beautiful to fight for love? To really make a true effort for things to develop in the right way? I think so. Love will lead the way.

Halleluja.

Lessons in staying cool

We all have baggage. We all have things in our past that is shadowing our present. This is a given. The question is how we deal with it. Do we take it as burden, a heavy ruck-sack, or do we use the experience as something valuable? As some thing that improves our character and makes us the wonderful person we are today?

I'm starting to fall for Mr Sketch, despite his baggage. Very dangerous. I have to slow down and not put pressure on him. Very important. Stay cool and be patient. Count to 10 now. Not a very easy task for the very spontanious and passionate Spinster.

Please let my stars hang on to their lucky position.

Waiting for a star to fall

"The stars will give the Sagittarius a tremendeous start of the year. Love is in focus and planet Jupiter gives way to attraction and getting attraction back. The only problem will be clearing out the objects".

This is what it says in my Sagittarius 2007 chart! For real! Amazing. And I start off the year with having feelings for TWO men on the same time, Mr Sketch and Harry (my old friend). Just for fun, let's see what the stars say about this:

--
Sagittarius and Libra (Mr Sketch)
The meeting of two such optimistic minds should lead straight to bliss. Together, they enjoy elaborating their plans, consolidating their social prominence, and embarking on adventurous journeys. Librans lean towards marriage, but Sagittarius holds back, fearful of losing his or her independence. However, if he or she can be convinced that marriage will not crimp his or her freedom, the knot will soon be tied.
--

MY GOD!!! Do these people know me? Amazing. Hehe, so, do we hear wedding bells? (aarrhhhh)

--
Sagittarius and Scorpio (Harry)
Opposites attract, and in this case, Scorpio's emotional depth and mystery are intrigued by Sagittarian superficiality and rationality. The Sagittarian is given to idle chatter whereas the Scorpio can spend hours plunged in silence, reading or simply reflecting. /.../Often this sort of couple breaks up soon, after a few epic battles drain the energy of each partner. Exhausting!

--
THIS IS AMAZING!! "Superficial and rational and idle chatter". C'est moi! And Harry sounds exactly like the Scorpio.

Well ladies and gentlemen, if the stars could decide, Mr Sketch would be the choice here. Us earthlings can only lay back and await the future. Time will tell.

New years secrets

The new year has just started. Very secretly. Very shshshshshsush. I woke up entangled to my best friend since 12 years. Yes, a guy, but still. We didn't have any clothes on. And we stayed in bed for many hours more. And it was lovely. And I don't know what to say now, I am so confused. It's all very much a When Harry Met Sally-moment. But don't tell anyone.


"Can two friends sleep together and still love each other in the morning?"