Giving

Some back story to this tale:
Every year for my birthday [May], I give myself a generally outlandish present. I have designed and built jewelry for myself, traveled to cities I love, bought a vintage restored Vespa... When I was pondering what I would be doing for myself this year nothing has really stuck out that I absolutely had to have.

For as long as I've known my boyfriend he has talked about a particular surfboard that he wanted from Harbour Surfboards. The first year we were dating he turned 40 and I really wanted to surprise him with the board but it just was financially impossible for me to do at the time. Shortly after his 40th birthday he decided to go back to school and we all know how finances work during that period of our lives. Speed up 2+ years later and he is still in school, is still talking about this board and still goes into the shop and talks to the guys about the same questions. I've been scheming on how to buy it for him for some time now. I considered ordering it and paying it off by Christmas of next year...seems such a long time and his birthday has already passed. There wasn't any real reason to buy it for him. This man though works harder than anyone I've ever met: school and work full time in addition to driving to see me every free minute he has left. He gives of himself without complaint or asking anything in return. He also is someone who never wants for anything, routinely talks himself out of whatever frivilous thing he's pondered, except this surfboard. The last time we went to visit the shop he again went through the drill with the guys [I paid close attention this time], they humored him and answered all his same questions AGAIN. My only explanation to his expressions while he's asking and looking, is that he's like a little kid looking at his first bicycle every day through the window.

When I got news that my tax return this year was going to be fairly nice I decided what my birthday present was going to be...it was this darned surfboard for him. Really there is nothing I need or want [ok maybe a trip to Paris] but nothing that I wanted more than he wanted that surfboard. I went down to the store and asked the same questions and came back 2 weeks later with a deposit in hand to get the board started [summer rush is upon us they said] chose the colors for him [he claimed not to care last time we were in when I asked what his dream board was]

I had an elaborate surprise plan to reveal it as well. I was going to wait till the end of his semester in June to give it to him to start his summer off with a bang, I have been scheming to get him to the store with his surf racks ever since. Of course my excitement about this project is now greater than I had thought and 6 weeks into this deal and I'm having a hard time not telling him.

Thursday night he started talking about the board again, half talking about using his tax return to aid in the purchase of the board...I cracked and revealed my surprise. After I told him he stood dumbfounded as if I just told him I was leaving him for an alien and getting a sex change operation, then decided I was completly insane and didn't believe what I was saying... it took him bout 15 more seconds and he was asking what color it is and when it would be arriving. Ever since then there has been a little chirp in his voice and I can literally see him daydreaming about it. Needless to say - he's doing the Snoopy Dance.

It was the best birthday gift I've ever bought myself. I can't wait to take him down to the store when it's ready. The boys at the surf shop know me by name now and said I've now started a gift war. But it's not about that really, I don't want anything from him in return I just want him to have everything he wants, which isn't a whole lot considering we're in Los Angeles the home of more, more, more. Ok... when he gets out of school and is a rich Surgical Asst he could bring me home a diamond...just because...if he wanted to.

The photos above are what it will look like when it arrives...I decided on classic blue with black pinstripes.