My Surfer and how we met.

What do you do when your husband is gone for the weekend? Well you right about how you met him of course since none of your blogger readers know and they are just chomping at the bit to find out. I know that ya’ll have spent the past two days just wondering if I would write a tell all. Ha, I just crack myself up.  Where to start?… Where to start?

First of all you should have a little background context. I did not date surfers while I was in high school or college, even though I grew up one block from the ocean. Of course I knew a few surfer boys all through those trying developmental days being the only redhead in a small beach town. Well… okay, I had a crush on one from age 14-17 and he ended up being a giant jerk so maybe he ruined it for all of the other boys in town. Although I did seem to be attracted to and bring home the complete opposite from a surfer boy.

Tall, dark , extroverted, clean cut and land bound boys were what I generally went for. Sometimes they would be artsy like me. Those were the boys that dressed ummm…let’s say a wee bit eccentrically and wore their hair a little differently. Dad and Mom were soooo thrilled when they came around. I also had a bad habit of getting rid of the guys that they liked. You know the type… the decent, nice, wholesome guy that you should have paid attention to. Oh well you live and learn, sorry Mom and Dad.

I was 21 and one evening at work this guy shows up (on his motorcycle) and comes strolling in. Not only was he not the above a fore mentioned type…tall, dark and extroverted; this guy was 5’8 with blond hair down the middle of his back.  Instead of being one of the overly flirty guys that I would initially be attracted to this guy had a quiet confidence about him. From his long blond hair, tan, Maui tee shirt and Airwalk sneakers he screamed surfer. Boy was I hooked, instantly, irrevocably, Ga Ga over the cutie in front of me! I can’t tell you why exactly. There was something in his hazel eyes when he ordered that first tuna salad. Did I happen to mentioned that I was working at a sub shop at the time? Tre’ Chic. Not!

“Oh my word! How do I look in this light, in this horrid violet shirt that oh so wonderfully highlights the red hair and pale skin…ewww.”

Yep, when a girl is instantaneously worried about her appearance, you can bet butterflies are surely aflutter.  Once he left I thought to myself –What is wrong with you? Who cares what you look like? He is sooo not your type? Don’t you just love the third person conversations with your self? What I’m the only one? Cough…never mind.

Well I did care I realized when he started coming in about twice a week. I would talk to him some and joke around a little. Staying true to my usual M.O. of being humorous, sarcastic, witty and I assumed charming. Yet no results were forth coming that I normally received when I laid the charm on thick (yes, I was one of those cocky redheads with short girl syndrome) After about two weeks of witty banter with him I happened to be talking to my Mom on the phone one day. I told her all about the long haired blond surfer that I was becoming obsessed with. This of course completely surprised her since she knew who/what I normally brought home. I also told her that if he did not ask me out soon that I would be asking him out. I know, I know girls are not supposed to be the ones asking out a boy but I had the patience of a flea back then and well did I mention cocky? Oh yep! Right up there.

So on one of the rare occasions’ that I had a day off, I received a phone call from Tracy (one of the 17 year old girls who worked at the sub shop)

“That guy came in asking for you” she squealed into my eardrum.

My brain froze, it couldn’t be but I had to ask

“Which guy?”.

“The motorcycle guy with goooorrrrgeoooouuuussss blond hair” another squeal that left me half deaf.

“Well, what did he want?” I asked.

“He didn’t say…just asked if you were working, when you would be back in and left. What do you think he wanted? Is he going to ask you out? What will you say? He is soooooo cute, I could have just died when he came up”, and the teenage, hormonal excitement  went on for about two more minutes before I feigned an incoming call and had to hang up. I had taken all of the teenage gushing that I could handle at the moment.

I was working the next day so if he was hopefully interested he would be back in then. Now I won’t lie and tell you that I did not do some 17 year old squealing around my house myself when I hung up with Tracy, that would just be wrong. I also will not lie to you and say that I had zero butterflies when I went into work or that I did not watch the clock all morning until I was about to go home. My nerves were frayed, my hopes starting to be questioned… you get the picture. Then finally there he was with those hazel eyes that crinkle, sweet unassuming smile, quiet confidence and lets not forget the long blond hair.

He introduced himself, said hello and explained how he had come in the day before looking for me. I remember asking how I could help him,  staying calm and cool on the outside while those pesky butterflies were making their way up from my stomach to who knows where. I was about to find out where those pesky insects where headed. After that all I remember him saying was, “Would you like to go to-” before… BUUUUUUUUUUZZZZZZZZZZZZZ…the butterflies had made their way into my brain and the sound of their fluttering wings had turned me deaf, dumb and mute with glee.

All my brain could process was that he had asked me to do something. It didn’t matter if it was dinner, a movie, skydiving, snake charming or playing with spiders…he had said “Would you like to go to-“. Go entailed a destination, a destination with him. YES! He asked me out! He asked me out!!! Yippeee, me? Yahoooo, now? With You? Can I play with your hair? Lets Go!! All of these were the responses running through my head. God had the good fortune to come and save me (one of the few times) from looking like an idiot. Fortunately I was able to say, “Sure here’s my number call me later with the details”, without looking like a complete psycho betty who had lost all cognitive brain function due to a rush of gleeful hormones. I am still amazed to this day that my eyes weren’t bugging out like Igor, that drool wasn’t dripping from the side of my mouth or that my heavy breathing didn’t cause me to blackout.

Fortunately I behaved and thus I met my surfer and life as I knew it changed forever. It has been more than worth it. I love you babe! You know how most men say “She has made me a better man”? Well in my case it is the opposite. He has made me a better woman. Remember cocky redhead with the patience of a flea?  Now not so impatient any more. It’s more like the patience of a cat, not quite on that hot tin roof. At least it’s above a flea and I am moving up the animal chain :) . Cockiness you ask? There is still a little just not so much in your face. I now call it confidence.

He did this for me. He gives me calm and peace. He gives me the ability to just be me…quirks, faults and all. That type of unconditional love has allowed me to be comfortable in my own skin. To know that if I want to try something crazy say like writing a blog and sharing some personal information to the masses that I can. He might not understand it, he might even raise his eyebrows a little but he would never make me feel silly. Then again he knew who and what he was getting even before the first official date…but that is another story for another day :)

So on this quite Sunday as he is making his way back from surfing, competing and coaching in the Outer Banks with Thanksgiving in just a few days, I reflect on some of the things that I am grateful for. He, him, father of my boys, my darlin’ surfer boy is at the top of my list. He is my rock, my sanity, the love of my life. I have known him from the beginning of time and will until it ends. He TICKLES me more than anything else (except the beautiful boys he gave me).

So drive safe honey, come home soon. I miss you, I love you!

Me and my love. I know, I know where is the long blond hair? That is also a funny story for another day. This is about as short as it has ever been. We compromise now, not to short for me and not to long for him. I promise to try and find a way to put a picture of his long hair on here. It was “Fabio-ulous”…don’t you tell him I said that :)

Isn’t he cute? There is that sweet smile that stole my heart.

Yep…surfer through and through. Some surf for a hobby, some to be cool, some for the serenity and connection to nature, some are driven competitive and can’t live without it. They are literally fishes out of  water. Which one do you think I married?

Hug and kiss the ones you love today…for they are the purest, simplest reasons we smile from day to day :),

Tickled Red

PS: Tracy, I love you til’ this day for that phone call. I am so happy to see that you now have your own love and family.