Someone owes me money

This weekend one of my best friends got engaged.

Jeffrey Scott Jensen III and Ashley Vaculin will be tying the knot. And I couldn't be happier for them.

Though, it is sort of disconcerting.

I remember when I first met Jeff. Thought his name was Jensen. Jeff didn't really have many friends in 7th grade, barring Josh C., who paid Jeff to hang out with him. But we met in 8th grade, so I can't really be blamed for that.

We bonded over Age of Empires while on his trampoline and never looked back. In 8th and 9th grade alone we attempted to learn Gaelic, Russian, Aramaic, Persian, Japanese, and Italian - talk about the epitome of cool. No wonder we didn't get girlfriends til 9th grade, when Jeff started wearing underarmour and I started wearing a fanny pack. We made most likely the best timeline projects Mr. Needham has ever seen, including the 45 pound miniature battlefield as well as the goat that somehow was made to represent the 13 colonies, and generally made everyone in our French class hate us. Jeff was always the best skateboarder, the best ice skater, and the best Awana verse memorizer. One time Evan and I punched Jeff over 200 times for saying biznatch and made him cry. This other time, Lee and I colored on Jeff's face all through English class. Another time, Lee, Evan and I pinned Jeff down in my basement and 'cut his hair,' throwing Jeff into rage mode, the likes of which we haven't seen in years. We weren't always very nice to Jeff; I think that's why he works out so much nowadays.

In high school I never really saw Jeff because he was always at Tiffany's house. Sometimes, however, he would grace us with his presence, and we would play Halo. Lots of Halo. Or Age of Empires. In the first semester of AP US History Jeff and I made Tyler's life a living hell, as he sat precariously between us on a freestanding chair. Let's just say his life was not made easier when he moved to the desk in front of Jeff. Once Jeff got a car we rode College every Saturday, rev'ing his NAS powered engine and strobing the neon lights beneath his car. His radar detector was the envy of everyone. Sometime in high school Jeff started imbibing protein like a ravenous goat, so we stopped being so mean to him. And Jeff's cupboards are like the wardrobe in Narnia, if Narnia were a supermarket that only sold chips and good cereal.

In college I never really felt bad for Jeff, because simply by moving home each summer he made more money than I would that entire fiscal year. Gig 'em.

We used to make bets about who was going to get married first. I think for a while in high school I was leading, but I'm pretty sure Jeff's been at the front of the pack for at least a year now. I definitely had my money on him, and I'm not sure who was betting on someone else, but I'd like to collect my winnings sometime in the near future.

I guess it's just a trip when jokes turn into reality. It's like relative motion. When you're walking and changing and living with someone for so long, you forget that you're moving. Then someone takes a step beyond you and you realize where you've come from, where they're going, and where you are.

I'm not where you are Jeff, but I love you, I'm happy for you, and I'm glad we've made it this far.