Kayla and I will have our three-year anniversary this month. I am, oddly, not one of those guys who forgets anniversaries (Kayla tells her work friends "nerds do it best.") Exactly one month after our first kiss, we went out for a nice dinner - and the month after, and the month after. It's kind of like a standing date night, on the months that we both don't just forget (which happens - but we both forget, so I don't feel guilty). But the yearly anniversary - that's a thing.
These things usually begin with Kayla telling me she doesn't want me to buy her anything. In the subsequent 0.03 seconds, the tiny General Ackbar who lives in my brain sounds his sage warning, and I inform her that, "tough noogies, you're getting a present whether you like one or not, and if you don't tell me what you want I'm going to go out and buy you lawn darts or something."
(Disclaimer: I would never buy her lawn darts.)
But the threat of lawn darts carries weight, and she settled on the idea of a very nice watch. I can get that type of desire. I, for example, have a very nice watch.
|The Rapport of London PW91 double-hunter case skeletonized pocket watch. In silver.|
She told me about the watch she liked, but didn't want me to go get it because she deemed it too expensive. I twisted her arm a bit, and she conceded that I could get her the watch, but we might as well wait until closer to our anniversary.
"What if it's gone by then?"
"I'll just get a different watch."
"But Kayla... is this the watch you want? Is this the watch and no other watch will make you quite as happy?"
"Okay, let's go get The Watch."
The Watch, for Kayla, was a jewel-encrusted number from Michael Kors. We went into the store and she found the precise watch she was looking for. We then poked around and I pointed to a very elegant thing in silver, saying something like "that one's nice."
"That is nice!" she agreed. She got the sales lady to pull it out of the case. She tried it on. "It's too expensive," she said for the zillionth time.
"Kayla, is this The Watch?"
"Then I don't care how much it costs."
Kayla's watch is the Michael Kors MK3190 Womens Watch, in silver. It cost around three hundred dollars, and was worth every penny, as she loves it. Over the subsequent few months, she's been bugging me about what I want for our anniversary.
The obvious answer, at first, was "preordered games," but - while I'll be in desperate need of gaming money come September - that didn't feel like an appropriate anniversary gift. For one of the hundred+ games in my library to be Our Third Year Anniversary Present.
She told me she'd considered that ridiculous(ly awesome) Kratos figure, but reckoned it'd be too much. I agreed.
I poked around the 'net for a bit. We considered some hoodies from Redbubble - I've still kinda' got my heart set on this Lollipop Chainsaw number and a green hoddie with this on it:
|C'mon. That's awesome.|
And, as near as last week, we were this close to ordering a pair of hoodies which feature the logo and Tiki key art from Dragon's Crown and some gorgeously-simplified Momohime key art from Muramasa.
...but hoodies wear out, y'know? It's unlikely I'll be able to point to these hoodies in five years and say "that's what Kayla got me for our third anniversary." ...but still... Dragon's Crown hoodie...
...give me a minute... annnd ordered. Okay, where were we?
Right! David deserves giftage!
Last week, Kayla observed me playing Diablo III, and made mention that it looks like something she'd like to play. Then she made mention that she could go out and get me a second Dualshock 4 as "part" of my present, and we could play co-op. Well hell yeah.
So, as far as I'm concerned, half my gift is a girlfriend who'll play Diablo with me. That's a precious thing, right there. The rest of the gift... couldn't be shipped to Canada.
Let me begin by saying I have three high-end figures of video game girls. More if you count (what I consider to be) low-end Play Arts Kai figures. I told myself I would limit myself to characters from Vanillaware video games, which puts a huge stopper on things.
...though I'll admit, if someone showed me a really adorable Yotsuba figure, I wouldn't be able to pass it up. And I'm regularly tempted by the Kill la Kill stuff.
As Kayla and I passed through hobby shops, perfecting our collection of Funko Pop Adventure Time figures, I always find myself pouring over any version of Harley Quinn I could find. (I also stared for a good long while at the Play Arts Kai FemShep, but I swore them off).
I love Harley Quinn, though. Specifically, I love her in the Arkham video games, and in the Warner Bros. animated series from back in the day. Harley was actually created for the animated series, and she was so successful they ended up making her a permanent part of the Batman mythos.
For me, the animated Harley is Harley. She is the archetype. My Harley isn't some demented cheerleader-slash-nurse in a mini skirt and a bustier, a'la Arkham. She's the Harley of Mad Love. There's a lightness, a crushed sweetness to Harley Quinn - like the Joker might have if you got the sense he did all the murders and acid traps for the sake of love.
My Harley Quinn is Paul Dini's - and she looks like this:
|The DC Collectibles Batman Black & White: Harley Quinn Statue by Bruce Timm.|
It's from a Black & White series of Batman figures that go to artists who worked on the series at one point or another, getting their own spin on the major personalities. There are literally, like, a dozen vastly different Batmans in the Black & White series - but I think this is the only Harley.
The collectibles shop we frequent has all those Bat-men, but they've never had Harley. Every time we go in, I ask if they've got her - but no, they have her ordered. She should be in next week. After six weeks of inquiries, one of them was kind enough to tell me that their supplier never actually confirmed they'd been getting any.
Harley was now a collector's item, among collectors.
So we checked out Amazon - a dozen different sellers had it, but no one would ship it to Canada. Oh well.
But not for Kayla. Kayla had it shipped to a little business just across the US border that makes its money holding on to such items, and drove down there to pick it up. About three hours each way. Oh, and she brought me some birthday cake Oreos.
What a girl.