Test 2: Meet the parents, first round

The first sign of being in a serious relationship happened today. Mr Cosby asked me to join him to drive his dad from Heathrow to Kings Cross. The dad had been in Nigeria and was now on his way back to Cambridgeshire where he lives. I couldn´t really understand why on earth I had to go from work early and miss out a social event in the evening, just to drive a man to Kings Cross, when we can go to see him anytime!? But now I understand.

Mr Cosby´s relation to his dad isn´t the best, and he hadn´t seen him for almost three years. He thought this little more relaxed way of meeting up would be less dramatic that him and me travelling up to his little country village and spending hours with him. The dad was really a charming old man. Extremely sharp and intelligent and I had no problem understanding that he was a clear-minded academic. He has now left the research world and is a preacher. Or "a sales person sellning life insurances" as he explained it. He wanted me to buy some of it, and I said I would consider it. Not that I am an non-faithful non-believer hedonist, not entierly anyway, but too much of this religious-stuff makes me a bit ... cautious. Religion is a little bit of a poison, after all.

But all in all it was good. Mr Cosby Sr was very enthusiastic about me and how HEALTHY and STRONG and INTELLIGENT I seemed. Good child-giving traits I guess... He also took a picture of us, this "very handsome couple" and was all smiles when we dropped him on the train. He also whispered to me -- "be careful with my son, he is a great kid, but has been very badly hurt". I smiled and sighed silently and thought "well, who the hell hasn´t?"

So, first round done. This weekend my parents are here, so round two is coming up quicker than we know it. Will be interesting. My lovely parents, the poor souls, they have hardly met a black person before in their life. Apart from my uncle´s Ugandan wife. But since everything my uncle has done in his life , apart from marrying her, has been a bit whacko, this benchmark is not really usable. Am sure my parents will love Mr Cosby though. Most people do.

The coming rounds, if we have survived that far, will be Mr Cosby´s mum, the powerful UN-lawyer specialized in Racial Equality, and of course... Mr Cosby´s premier lady and true love of his life -- his 8-year-old daughter.

So all in all, ego-centric preacher or not, the first round was sure a light start.

Let´s see what the stars say...

Sagittarious (the Spinster):

• Optimistic and freedom-loving
• Jovial and good-humored
• Honest and straightforward
• Intellectual and philosophical
• Blindly optimistic and careless
• Irresponsible and superficial
• Tactless and restless

Virgo (Mr Cosby):

• Modest and shy
• Meticulous and reliable
• Practical and diligent
• Intelligent and analytical
• Fussy and a worrier
• Overcritical and harsh
• Perfectionist and conservative

Extremely correct (apart from that Mr Cosby hardly is anywhere close to being either modest or shy!). And as you might have guessed, not the perfect match, the stars say!

It will take work, but it can be done. The independent character of each, reserved Virgo and exuberant Sagittarius, may thwart all understanding. Confident Sagittarius strides ahead, optimistic and ambitious, whereas anxious Virgo pulls back, careful to avoid danger as much as possible. Sometimes the couple may function as a complementary unit. Thus, Virgoan tact may compensate for Sagittarian frankness, and Sagittarian enthusiasm may banish Virgoan anguish. But basic differences are difficult to overcome, and this couple often succeeds only by an implacable effort of will.

But who cares about stars anyway? Bah!

Test 1: The Bank Holiday Weekend-holiday

If we can take this, we must be able to get through anything:

• Blistering hang-over after a un-planned mega party the night before
• Navigating after the sun in pouring rain to find this little Cotswolds-village since the Spinster refused to to waste £10 on a map "Maps are for wimps, I am a sailor".
• Reaching the village without address to the hotell - the otherwise management-consultancy-organized-Spinster-travelling-the-world, had only a very vague idea of the name "it was something involving Marlborough". Which is useless knowledge since the Duke of Marlborough apparently founded the village, hence Marlborough everywhere.
• Finding our hotel on the fields outside the village. Clean and proper, but hardly romantic, since the Spinster rarely has patience to do anything properly.
• Since everything closed in this slient village already at 10.30, having to spend the evening in our very dull hotel-room with a bottle of bad wine listening to old Smiths from my laptop.

And I have never laughed so much in my entire life and we went to bed I had pains in my ribs from all the laughter. A completely surreal vacation.

And as Mr Cosby himself describes us: As Andy and Lou in Little Britain -- one very kind, diplomatic, understanding, patient "how about if we... what do you think..." and the other brash, direct and blunt "I want that one". I love it. And I think he loves it too.

(except the weather wasn´t anything close to this)

Wonderful lyrics

You know the feeling, you find a song and just think -- this is EXACTLY how I feel. These great lyrics from gorgeous singer-songwriter star Aimee Mann, was what I listened to during my big life crisis. And even though I am perfectly happy and mostly very problem free, I still love it. Two favourite lines:

I suppose I should be happy to be misread-Better be that than some of the other things I have become

Oh I could get specific but
Nobody needs a catalog
With details of love I can't sell anymore

BJUUUTIFUL!



Invisible Ink -- Aimee Mann

There comes a time when you swim or sink
So I jumped in my drink
Cuz I couldn't make myself clear
Maybe I wrote in invisible ink
Oh I've tried to think
How I could have made it appear
But another illustration is wasted
Cuz the results are the same
I feel like a ghost who's trying to move your hands over some ouija board in the hopes I can spell out my name

What some take for magic at first glance
Is just sleight of hand depending on what you believe
Something gets lost when you translate
It's hard to keep straight
Perspective is everything
And I know now which is which and what angle I oughta look at it from
I suppose I should be happy to be misread-better be that than some of the other things I have become

But nobody wants to hear this tale
The plot is clichéd, the jokes are stale
And baby we've all heard it all before
Oh I could get specific but
Nobody needs a catalog
With details of love I can't sell anymore
And aside from that, this chain of reaction,baby, is losing a link
Though I'd hope you'd know what I tried to tell you
And if you don't I could draw you a picture in invisible ink

Scared Spinster?

Ok, my friend asked -- what the hell are you so scared of? Ok, I will try to summarize this. Might not be the most interesting you have ever read, but still..

I am afraid of:

• Making the wrong decision
• Wasting time because I am untrue to myself
• Making another person disappointed
• Making myself disappointed
• Finding out things about a person too late and panicking
• Breaking someone´s heart

Yes yes yes, no need for being an Einstein here. I am divorced. From a man I loved for many many years and thought I would live together with until we were white-haired and crooked and had at least 10 great grand-children and a number of long-haired Golden Retriver dogs running around our legs. And my ex-husband, bless, would stand in the middle of this whole lot with his big smile and big hands in the air, and just be very happy. And of course, waking up and realizing one day that --- Hey there, stop now, this is NOT right for any of us -- was tough like hell. It made us very unhappy. And I think it made me even more unhappy than him, since I had to live with my decision.

And of course I have allowed myself to be scared since. But it´s now bloody FIVE years ago that we divorced, and hey -- it´s about time I started to calm down and focus a bit more. It´s been ok to avoid the issue and play around for a while and be in impossible relations. But I am done with that now. I am motivated, I want to go on, I want to commit, live together, have children, leave my single life. And believe me, this feeling is a bloody relief. I am so so soooooooo landed.

But this doesn´t mean it necessarily become easier. On the contrary, this makes is even more complicated. Now, I really have to make the right decisions, analyze, try to predict the future, get to know quickly, see signals. I even realized the other day that I am comparing everything with my ex-husband! What is WRONG with me? Hey, this is bloody tiresome, and who has a looking glass anyway? And as soon as a cloud darkens the sky even the slightest, it is just so very easy and tempting to just go back to the comfort zone of being alone again, . The zone where I can be single and strong, untouchable, in control of feelings, home, life, calendar .. and alone.

Good thing I am dating a guy who 1. is divorced and knows what this is all about and 2. is very good to talk about it with. There might be hope.

Roller-coster again

I am just like a bitch, a female dog (horrible word by the way). Skengravid/skendräktig is the word in Swedish, not sure what the translation is. It´s when the little bitches are walking around with long looks, and play with all cuddly toys they can see or lay down on the side, pretending they are breastfeeding (or whatever it´s called in dog-language). All in all, thinking they are pregnant!

And here I am again. Without a single proof (or possibility, apart from medical miracles) of having a baby in my tummy, my whole body walks around as in a "blessed condition". Ok fans, no, I don´t walk around with cuddly toys (no more than usual anyway) and no, I don´t pretend to be feeding something. But still. There is this feeling.

And funny, isn´t it? How the glorious Spinster can shift from one day to the other? We´re not talking a great many hours since I declared the deadline of 20th of June for mister and moi, now I am thinking of little Cosby-children already. Don´t despair darlings. Even I can´t follow this.

But I like him. I missed him when I was away and I love having him around. We laugh so much and he is just so irresistable. Plus, wonderfully understanding and easy to talk with about all sorts of things. Even when I have my dark moments of confusion. Amazing. I actually start feeling that he likes me for ... me? Bizarro.

But Scared Spinster will not let go yet. No long term planning here thank you very much. No calender synchronization, no future discussion, and hell -- no moving in together! No no no Mr Cosby, I struggle to be non-commitment phobic in the now.

But dreaming of little ones, that causes no problem whatsoever for this crooked brain. Can´t think of anything lovelier right now.

Fruit export

"You don´t bring bananas to Jamaica" are the insightful words of my dear father. What he means is very easy. If you are going someplace where it´s likely to be a lot of great bananas, you don´t bring your own half-brown ones.

This banana-metaphor can easily be translated into other areas. Such as not bringing half-good dates to places where there is likely to be very good, and possibly a lot better, dating material. And this can easily be translated into not having a half-boyfriend when I to Glastonbury, where gorgeous KitLizette and myself are going to spend the whole of the midsummer weekend.

Hence, we have a deadline dear friends. La Kit and moi are leaving for this crazy festival on the 20th of June. If things have not clarified with Mr Cosby by then, it will have to be decision time. The Spinster does not flirt around with others when she is dating someone, as a rule. AND she certainly does not waste time not flirting at this-oasis-of-potential-material, should she not be very sure of Mr Cosby.

20th of June. D-day.

Some minor details...

I can do it. I CAN do it. I am just going to do it. Just do it. Gotta fix a few details. Just a few small ones, not really difficult things. Just need to fix and tweak and mend and get those LAST little things right in my life and then I am ON. Freshly baked from the oven. Ready for being the best mum in the world.

Have spend the weekend in Stockholm -- a town where you almost become pregnant by walking around in the streets. No no no, not that the men are throwing themselves over you, but only the whole atmosphere of toddlers, babies, nappies, pregnancies, child care, playgrounds make the hormones start flowing. Is there any other capital in the world that has this much children? Congrats Mr Persson, former prime minister, your child-production plan worked out. Overly well.

Mr Cosby is still the number 1 alternative for these minor details. He is still promoting himself as the perfect alternative as a Spinster-partner. He has even managed to convince the stubborn singleton and made her extremely decisive mind change and agree to give it another go. Now, I am a bit too old for thinking people can change that much, but ok, I can at least give it a try.

And if not, I am off again. Fixing and trixing.

Training Camp a la Spinster

Shit, it sure is tiresome this. I am almost sweating. Today I´ve spent the WHOLE day with eye-workout. A workout to make my eyes see different things, focus on different angles and concentrate on the right stuff.

Nope, I am not trying to get rid of my glasses, I am only trying to open my eyes too the good men. Since my divorce my eyes have constantly been drawn to -- bohemians, eccentrics, extremely beautiful, dandys, too young or otherwise slightly complicated men. My mission for this summer is to explore another segment -- the Good, Normal and Decent men.

So today when I spent half of the day on the always-delayed-British-trains in the midst of the office-infected West, I made an effort. When the train stopped and a tall, dark, arty farty man in a peculiar hat entered I forced my eyes away. Instead I concentrated on the colour-less, suit-dressed guys in pink shirts. Firmly decisive to not judge the hound by its hairs.

And yes, I think I did rather well. Now, it might be that the creme-de-la-creme of the the Good, Normal and Decent men don´t spend their day-time on trains to Slough, but still. One has to start somewhere.

Who knows, I might even go to bars in the City to flirt with BankersWankers, or even worse, South Kensington! Quel horreur, phew, maybe not yet, one step at a time.

Adios amigos, going for a drink in my dear hoods of the Notting Hill-billies. Bohemic, scrubby, difficult and decadent: Plainly a relaxing treat after a hard day´s work.

Clarification

Questions amongst my faithful readers have popped up these past days: What on earth happened to Mr Cosby? Sorry for being vague and blurry, but I guess nothing really happened. The process of learning to know someone goes through a number of stages and either you feel more and more sure of the brilliance of the person or ... you just get fed up. Certainly, I can be far more specific and talk about an enormous ego, a lifestyle far too "rock and roll" than I can handle, an inmature attitude to life and a number of other personality traits that I finally just felt -- no no no. Not me, not us, not this. Au revoir. He sure is charismatic and loving and good looking a hell, but that is not always enough.

And since his certainty of his self superiorness is GRAND, he of course cannot accept that I want to split up. He probably still thinks we are an item. He is firmly believing that we were meant for eachother and doesn´t listen one minute to what I have to say. So I just nod and say -- well see you in a few days, I have SO much to do now. Good bye.

Must say I am amazed. Really, him being so super-sure about us makes me of course think twice -- what if he is right, maybe I am just exagerrating, maybe he really can change?

Well well, I go on with my Spinster-life until the shit hits the fan and we HAVE to break up. For real.

Decisiveness

Decisive. That´s what I am. When I make a decision, no one can possibly follow my speed. I go from white to black, from 0 to 100, on to off as quickly as anyone can say... bottle.

But that´s me, that´s me and my intuition. And it´s not that I am impulsive and change my mind afterwards, not at all, when I decide for something I go for it. Pragmatically.

So off I went, almost before even waking up. I just felt it in my whole body this morning: I don´t want to be with you any longer Mr Cosby. Flew off like a Nordic flamingo on high heals and in a too colourful pink dress. A real walk of shame, although this was not a one-nighter. Leaving him behind with a long baffled face, wondering what on earth was happening. And really. He had done nothing wrong. We were just wrong. And these things I know.

At least I gave it a try.

The Spinster is back. I´ve missed her.