IT’S MY 23rd BIRTHDAAAAAAY!!

Aaaaah, Friday the 13th and it’s my birthday!

You know, every year I look forward to my birthday. But yesterday at 23.57, I suddenly got nervous. I couldn’t sit still and was playing with my watch the whole time. What the hell was happening?? Normally I love the countdown to my birthday! Maybe because I’m getting older?

00.00 and N kisses me into my new age. It’s your birthday!, he says. It took me a while to adjust to it.. But after a while I was dancing! It’s my birthdaaay bitchess!!

And then I forgot to set my alarm.

Then I woke up at 7.45

Then I missed the tram

And another one

Then I arrived at the university around 9.30

Then I couldn’t find my seat

Then I found my seat.. And it was covered with balloons, there were littles cakes with candles! It was really my birthdaaaaay!! Thanks M and L! You chicks are the best!

One hour later: I am now writing this short blog.. Not paying attention at all. I feel like a little kid, super excited! I can’t just sit still and listen to some boring stuff. I want to do fun things! But I still have 2 more classes to go and the University is holding me hostage till 17.45.

Ah well, let’s make the best of it. ‘Cause tonight, Charlie can be found in the city! Dancing, drinking and shaking her bombom with friends!

365 days of texting

Charlie B.
22 yrs.
In a Relationship with N
Owner of a petite apartment with N
Party days a week: average 1, some times none.
Happiness level: over 9000

If someone came up to me last year and told me that my life would look like that, I would have probably laughed my ass off in his face. There I was, 21, single and partying like crazy in Barcelona and Ibiza. Little did I know that my life would change, the moment I came back.

It was 28 July 2012 when A and I were at a birthday party. Dressed up, like I do sometimes, I was not planning to go out. Sometimes a woman just wants to look good, hot, sexy. Not for anyone, but just for herself. And that was the case. I was tired of partying, not sleeping, multiple hangovers a day (don’t ask me how, but it’s possible) and breakfast with sangria. Not in the mood to party…

Having the reputation of Party Girl at that moment, the girls tried to change my mind. ‘You look way too good to just go home! I know you want to party!! Let’s party, Charlie! Oh Charlie, pleeeeaassseee?!’ I really tried to resist, my body needed rest. But Miss spontaneous in me, decided that the girls were right: This outfit is too damn fine to not to be showed off combined with some sexy ass moves on some latin sounds. Okay girls, let’s do this.. On one condition: We go to Club Vie!

There I was, sipping my rose and moving to the beat. And that’s when it happened. I saw him. That familiar face. The face I met a couple of months before. The person I had such fun with during that crazy birthday night in February. It was N!

I was shocked and panicked a bit. We had an awesome night back in February.. Would he still remember me? What does he think? Is he single? A lot of things went through my head and I tried to hide from him. I did not want him to see me while my head was still processing the fact that I saw him there.

I must admit, since I met him, A and I talked him sometimes. Wondering if I would ever see him again. Would we have that much fun again? I had to tell A. ‘A, ohmygod.. Guess who’s here? N!’ Aaaahhh.. What to do? What to do?! And then he saw me.

His big eyes locked on mine. That familiar face created a smile. Looked like he was totally happy to see me. He walked up to me and we started talking. Even though he was more drunk than I was, we had a lot of fun again! We danced, flirted, exchanged numbers and we were the last people to leave the club.

Before leaving the club, he looked me in the eye and said: I really really REALLY want to kiss you, but A’s gonna hit me if I do, right?’ Yeah I said and started laughing.

From that night on, 29 July 2012, N and I started talking night and day. My phone kept on making noise and vibrating almost every minute. N and I had so much fun on Whatsapp. Funny things, sweet things, every thing!

Still, It did take till 15 September for us to have our first date (my idea! Yeaahhh.. I wanted him, so I asked him!) And till 29 October to be an official couple. But we never stopped talking.

A year later, on 29 July 2013, we’re celebrating our 9 month anniversary as a couple, but also the one year anniversary of our conversations.

Yeaaahh!!

So pop the champagne and celebrate our love, our love to talk to each other and let’s toast to never ever let our conversation end.

Love,

Charlie

Age is just a number, isn’t it?

(Some ’80s song blasting from the speakers in a club) Cute bald Guy: ‘Do you know this song?’ Me: ‘No’. He: ‘It’s from 1986!’ My brain: I wasn’t even born yet at that time.. He: ‘Everybody that was born before 1986 should know this song’.  Me: ‘I don’t know this song’. He: ‘You weren’t born before the 1986?’ My brain thinking: HELL NOO.. my mouth saying; ‘No, and you? When were you born?’. He: ‘1971’. My Brain: HOLY MOTHER OF FUCKS.. My parents were born in 1968!! My face: hihihi

41 years old.

Damn.. I didn’t see that one coming. He was fun, interesting, had a great style and was wearing the cutes shoes I’ve ever seen a guy wear. A great addition to his attractive style and personality was that he had a bubbly face and was bald. I like my men bald. Now you might think, ‘iew, an old man flirting with a 21-year old chick’ and start singing ‘Dirty Old Man‘ by The Three Degrees (You have to check out this song. It’s one of my fav’s!)  But it was nothing like that, even though was he was already born when that song came out.

So, how did I meet an old dude while going out?? Well, it’s about thinking outside the box and going to other places then usual. And because my roommates took me there. A more alternative hot spot in Rotterdam, ROTOWN. It’s nothing like i’m used to. The crowd is so different: creative, musical, older, pretty in a hipster kinda way, a lot of men with facial hair, women that look like men, guys that are showing more cleavage than ethically accepted, all-stars/vans everywhere and there was me. Standing there in my fancy pants, cute heels and an orange blazer. Not fitting in.

There he was: being bald and all. Roomie M is highly aware of my weakness for bald guys and after setting me up successfully with the cutest bald guy I’ve ever met, she’s always telling me where the bald guys are. This time was not different. Baldy ’71 was standing behind us with his friends that looked older. So, I already assumed that he was not 21 and must be older. Way older. Still he looked attractive with a cute smile that reached his eyes. Being subtle and all, Roomie M asked him to take a picture of us. Afterwards I thanked him, but turned around again. ‘Charlie, You should totally talk to him! He’s cute!’, she screamed at me. ‘M, relax. It’s part of my plan. It’s gonna be okay’, I said. Even though I didn’t know for sure if I wanted to talked to him or should. So, I actually started talking to one of his friends and suddenly we were talking. His friends left and three hours later, we were still chatting about all kinds of subjects and it felt like we knew each other pretty well.

Still being 41 years old. An age difference of 20 years. Age is just a number, isn’t it?

That’s what we always say. But why do you still hesitate to flirt with a guy that is so much older? And why do you still think ‘Damn, he’s old’ even though you have the best connection ever? Probably because of the opinions of others, which kinda sucks if you have a really good connection.

For some people, age is indeed just a number. Look at Hugh Hefner and all his chicks. He’s almost dead and they are in their mid 20s! How did he do that? Or how could the girls do that? The funny thing is, looking at this example you’ll think: Hugh Hefner still has it, otherwise he would never ever be able to pick up chicks that could be his granddaughters. Let’s just forget that he has a shitload of money and pretend that the girls really do it for love, just like they say. Then you’ll think: Iew.. How do you do that? At least, that’s what I think. Because looking from his perspective: this is awesome and cool, but looking from the girls perspective it’s kinda nasty to hook up with someone that could have been your granddad. Weird, isn’t it?

But it’s only weird for the people on the outside of that relationship. Because if it feels good, why would you ruin something because of age difference?? What if you don’t even notice the age difference when you hang out and talk? What if you didn’t know the age of that other person? Would it change anything??

Conclusion:
Age is a number with baggage. Age is relative. Age is something that is written in your passport.

Still, I would personally hesitate dating a guy that is old enough to be best friends with my parents. Probably because I know my parents and they will pie their pants laughing.

What do you think?? Is age just a number? VOTE IN THIS POLL!!

I AM NOT ADDICTED!

‘So, I read an article about a woman who was addicted to going out. It made me think of you’, she said. Well mom, I’m not addicted to going out… ‘Let me speak, that woman was in her thirties and she just wanted to go out every weekend and more times a week. She loved to shop for outfits to go out. She loved the attention. She loved the drinks etc etc (My hearing system went on Mute).  ‘Mom, I’m not addicted to going out’. ‘But Charlie, you’re going out a lot right? More than once a week, right?’, my dear worrying mother said. ‘Mom, I’m 21 and I like to go out. Doesn’t mean I’m addicted’!!

I AM NOT ADDICTED TO GOING OUT

In Holland you start going out when you’re like 15 of 16 years old. That’s the time that you go clubbing for the first time, get drunk for the first time and start making out with random people for the first time. When you turn 18, you can enter more clubs (with older people) and buy some stronger alcoholic drinks.  The real clubbing doesn’t start until your 21. At this age, you can do pretty much everything. You can enter almost every party (except the 35+ parties, but do you want to attend those parties right now?!) and you actually find out that you don’t have to get drunk to have the best evening of that week. You’ll do this until you’re done doing it.

Well, I’m not done yet. I didn’t go out like crazy when I was 16, 17, 18 or even 19 and 20. At first, my mom didn’t want me to go out. When I turned 18 and went to the university, I started going out on the thursday student nights. Which were fun, but I didn’t really go out on the weekends. Only sometimes when there was a real awesome party, but that was it. I had a boyfriend at that time and worked in the weekends, so I didn’t really feel like it. Since I turned 21 and became single for the first time in my adult life, I took advantage of it. Big time. 

Major reason for me to go out: Music and dancing. I looooove to dance. I always dance. I dance in my room, in the kitchen, in the shower and even at work I have to bust a move sometimes. I just have to move. I love dancing! Dancing is my way of expressing myself. I believe I was born dancing. My mom can tell you a lot of stories about me dancing. In a group or just alone: I was always dancing. I used to wake up and started driving my mom crazy by dancing!

I miss dancing. I didn’t go out this weekend and didn’t get my regular exercise (I did go to the gym and danced salsa on friday, but this doesn’t really count as going out like a die-hard and do that 5 hours non stop dancing thing I always do). Because of this lack of dancing, I feel the urge to dance coming up again. I feel like I have to surrender to the music again, feel free like a melody in the wind. I want to be one with the music. Be the keys of the music; and all other metaphors you can make. So, I checked Facebook to see all the parties this week and I suddenly got  a reality check: I Really Love Going out.

Events this week that I really want to attend and probably will:

– Tuesday: ESN Social Drink: Pre-Farewell party @ BED
– Thursday: ESN & Fatale presents: Farewell Party: Go Hard or Go Home!
– Friday: L’Ambiance @ Club Vie
– Saturday: Housequake @ Best

Well, I’m totally going to the hottest and sexiest party of the month: L’Ambiance at Vie and to the house festival Housequake, all the way in Best. Still thinking about the other two times to go out. I really want to, but should I? Wouldn’t that make me look like an addict? Can my body take it?

Questions raised: Am I really not addicted to going out? Am I at the first stage of addiction: Denial? Or is going out my one and only true love?