when i got sick

Christmas decorations are starting to pop up in the shops. That must mean the end of the year is close.

That make me realize I didn’t write as many stories as I thought I was going to write. I still  have a few stories to write. But I guess with most of them I thought they were too short.

I now decided they do deserve a spot on my blog!

So here is the first short one.

I think this was the first boy that I called my boyfriend. I don’t remember where I met him. It must have been while going out. I remember he had been good friends with a classmate of mine. But I didn’t remember ever seeing him in those years.

Ok, now I remember why I haven’t written this story yet. There is too much blur about it. I’ve forgotten about some of the details. I’ll try my best to still make a story out of it.

It was in the year without internet on your mobile. So we started off with sending each other a text every now and then. From the text we met each other again and hitted it off. I could really tell by the end of the month when I got my phone bill!

He was such a kind boy!

I remember going to his place. He lived with his mum. Oh my I was scared the first time! Tried to be cool and totally relaxed. But I was shitting my pants. It all went fine though. We had a cup of tea and a chat. Looked at his older pictures with his friend, who was my classmate.

Then we went up stairs to his room.  He had a huge aquarium in his room. I was impressed at that point. Later that night….not so impressed (with the light and noise).

We spent quite some time chatting and watching movies. I didn’t mind watching crazy scary movies because I had a good pair of arms around me to cover myself in.

Sometime later I got sick. Like seriously really sick! I was so sick I couldn’t take care of myself. I could hardly speak. I had to go to my parents to be taken care of. After a few days we knew what was going on. I had glandular fever, also known as the kissing disease. I was in such bad shape that they gave me morphine.

When I had the results from the doctor I phoned my boyfriend and told him. He then got cross with me, because of the chance that he had it too now as it is contagious.

I tell you, I was happy when I found the tiny bit of energy to put socks on. I was a mess, thats how sick I was. So I had no energy for his worries. I stayed sick soo long and didn’t want him to see me like that. When I got a bit better I had plenty of time to think about it and decided it didn’t want to be his girlfriend. So that was that!

my other home...

I think this will be one of my most personal blog's as its not just about a date but something that was a lot more then just...anyway it was a pretty romantic story so it deserves to be here!

I have a long lasting love relation with the place that i also call home….Ireland!

That is because it’s the place where I walked my first steps.

First my dad fell in love with the place. He then took my mum there and they both fell in love. So when we where a family of four we moved to this lovely spot in the South of Ireland.

My dad did all sorts of jobs and my mum was running a shop there with her best friend. So as kids we spend a lot of time with the two families.

Over the years I’ve spend quit some holidays there. I just love that place. The beauty of the surrounding, the lovely people, the outside life, the ‘rush’of the village life. Nothing compare to my life in Amsterdam. Maybe that’s why I love it there so much; because it’s so different.

It’s been my friends who kept saying: Mina, one day you’ll fall in love with a Irish man like you fell in love with the place you call home too. I kept saying: “Nooo way! I’m not going to do that!”

….Yes I did.

I was there for my ‘Irish-brother’s’ wedding. It was al sooo lovely. Being together with so many people I love so much and the whole wedding happening was absolutely amazing. It was (so far) the nicest wedding I’ve been to. The whole setting was just perfect.

Imagine a country house with a hugh marquee in the garden that overviews the ocean and then at night light 50 of those wishing balloons…

And in the evening we started partying. Now I have to say…these Irish take a dam long time before they move their self’s on to a dance floor! So I was taking good use of the space and dancing away.

Every now and then I went to have a chat with some friends or to get a drink. While doing that I kept seeing this one guy…so after a while I invited them all over to the dance floor and they did.

That was the start of something really nice!

Since the moment ‘he’ joined me on the dance floor we spend all my left over time in Ireland together. Spark where all over the place.

The next day we went to the after and he was brave enough to meet all the family.

So when I left I thought that was it. I really did. He kept saying he really wanted to see me again. I thoughts will see…

Back at home we started skyping….everyday….at least once a day…and he booked a ticket to Amsterdam!

I was ever so nervous when he landed. How would it be to see each other again? Would there still be sparks? 

Yes! There where sparks. I was wearing pink glasses and with my head in the clouds.

Dating someone who lives miles away on some island isn’t easy! But it was all worth it. When we did see each other it was the best. And hee….he lived at the place that feels so much home to me too. So I absolutely didn’t mind going there!

There were some future talks…even about moving. But it would be a hell of a step for either one. But what the hell…if there is love in the air…

Some days I could totally see myself life in this village that has such a big place in my heart. The thought of not being close to my family didn’t scare me. I had my one and only second mum living there. And a ‘annoying’ brother with his lovely wife. And a ‘big sister’ with her family.

But it will stay a dream to life there as we are not together anymore! I guess it all went wrong when I didn’t catch the bouquet… 

The one about the young guy.

Let’s start this blog with a confession. I think most of my life I’ve felt a lot older then I am. Besides that people often think im eight year younger then I actually am. So you could say there is a big gap between how old (or young) people think I am and how old I feel.

One good night out in town I met this boy. We hit it on strait away, manly joking around. We had such a laugh.

Half way down the night we also talked a little serious. Work and so…yes, age. I told him my age (28 at that point) and he told me his age; 25. Not important at all. We continued having fun.

At the end of the night his brother came up to me and said: “You do know how old my little brother is right?” So I told him yes. He is 25. His brother started laughing. Ok… No, he’s not 25 he’s 21. Oow ok. O well whatever.

We exchanged numbers and said goodbye. Over the next days we spoke to each other and every single time we spoke to each other we just had sooo much fun. I remember one night being on the phone with him and we just chatted away for two hours and I had a sore belly from laughing.

We met to go skating. We met to go somewhere for dinner. We met to go out for drinks. We had fun!

After a while (ok, not very long) he invited me to go to his brothers birthday. At his parents. With the family and friends of his brother (who where all my age). I mostly remember is all the boys looking at me. I could nearly literally hear them think: what are you doing with him?! And he..he was walking around proud as a peacock.

Ok, he was quit head over heels with me. I really like the fun we had!

Until one day. I had a extremely though day (I went to a funeral). When I spoke to him all he could do is try to make jokes. It was after that that I noticed more and more…ok you don’t know how to handle though/shitty situations. More and more I started to notice that the age different was standing between us (for the record it wasn’t just that. But that was the situation that opend my eyes).

So after a while I told him it wasn’t going to work out. I broke his hart. I remember he told me: “You will regret it. You don’t know what you’re going to miss out on. Maybe I am young but I would have been so good for you, you wouldn’t know!”

I do believe he got a point there. But I couldn’t get over the fact that life isn’t just a joke. Especially not in my ‘old’ mind.

Im happy to tell that he found the love of his life how is now enjoying his goodness.

Spark vs no spark

Is it just me or are there more people who have been in a situation like this?
One moment..or ok a few times there is a spark and you are having a great time and then suddenly it's like that spark has gone off somewhere and is nowhere to be found!

This one night I was feeling quite angry towards all men. My bff was out with a group of friends of her man. She told me to shut up, stop moaning and come see her in town. So i did. We had a blast complaining about a lot of stuff (read: men). Then the music got turned up and we where the first ones to bomb the dance floor. We seriously had great fun!

But of course...after a while a men got involved. Telling me my bff was soo cool and so was I. “Yes, i know, but thanks anyway.” That’s what i told him.

He sticked with us and we chatted a little and a bit more. I must say he does deserve some credit for the way he approach me remembering the mood i was in. Well...i do remember having eye contact for quite a bit. There was a spark.

Anyway at the end of the night he asked me for my number. Later that week instead of a lousy text he phoned and asked me if i would be up for a date. Yes, ok. So we arranged to meet later that week.

He cancel last minute with a lame excuse. But I decided to give him a second change ;).

We had a sort of picknick in a park. It was nice and fun. We were chatting away. Later our friends joined us. It was a great time. We definitely felt attracted to each other.

The next week we met again. I cooked us a lovely meal. We did chat during dinner and so but that was it. All the rest was flown out the window. Nowhere to be found! So that was it. 
But we had fun those other times. That's what counts. 

It wasn’t a date but we met

It was two years ago when i met this guy. We share the same hobby.

One’s a year a few hundred of ‘us’ come together to have a crazy fun weekend.

Imagine a few hundred people sharing the same hobby on one location. Men, women, alcohol and fun. Yes, that’s asking for situations. A lot of story’s go around about men and women getting to ‘know’ each other on this specific weekend.

It was three years ago when I met this guy at this specific weekend. We did the same workshop on a Sunday with a hangover from two nights in our body’s. But that didn’t make the workshop less fun at all. After this weekend we became facebook friends.

This year. From meeting once to facebook friends to meeting again.

The first night I was drunk! When I get drunk I sometimes become reckless. I’m overcoming a bruised rib at this moment. But with all the alcohol in my body I thought it was a good idea to rock the dance floor. I was acting like a experienced metal dancer: pushing and pulling around with the guy’s. Well actually two guys. They were the only once as crazy as me I guess.

Ok, every idiot can say that that is not a good idea with a bruised rib. So after a while I was in tears with pain.

Luckily everybody at this weekend is super friendly and helpful. So a few offered to guide me back to my bed.  G (let’s call him that) was one of them.

The next morning he came up to me saying: I’m worried about you, are you ok? Aahh how kind.

For the rest of that day our eye’s met a few times.

Then there was… the big party night. Such a fun night because it’s always THE big dress up theme night. When I saw him I wasn’t sure what he was dressed up as so I went over and asked. He and his friend where dressed up as wingmen’s. Aaah fun! Then G. started telling me their wingmen strategy. Witch, to my surprise was totally different to the strategy I’m familiar with. So we then had a discussion about what was the best strategy. We agreed that we would try all three versions that night. His version, his friends version and my version. He would try them on me.

His friends version:

Try to be all over the girl and then tell her that you have a girlfriend but your friend doesn’t and is such a better catch then you are.

G’s version: Making his wingmen be all over the girl and touch her and then at the moment it becomes awkward ‘save’ the girl and be the good guy.

My version: When you see a nice girl you want to chat up make sure your wingmen does his job; make sure that nobody come between you, the girl and ‘the good conversation’.

Of course I was full confident that my strategy was the best. First we tried his friends version, then mine and last but not least his version.  It’s probably because of the late hours and amount of alcohol that I was pretty flattered  by he’s way of ‘saving’ me.

That in combination of cracking my code… Ok, I might have to explain myself here. I was a virgin Maria with a digital chastity belt (a HUHG calculator)…made that he kind of won a price…a kiss from virgin Maria.

I’m still convinced that my strategy of the wingmen works the best. But who am I to complain about being ‘saved’.

That whole discussion made us start a new one… He said im very competitive. I say im fanatical. This ‘seed’ of looking at myself need a little more time to either grow or die….