It’s a good thing neither of us tried to make it as fortune tellers. If, when we were driving around Portland’s West Hills listening to Dave Barry cassette tapes 20 years ago, you had told either of us we’d end up needing to figure out what we wanted to put for “our story” on our own wedding Web site, we’d have laughed you out of Jenna’s parents’ minivan. And yet…here we are doing just that. How we got to this moment encompasses trips from Portland to Corvallis, Spokane to Orlando, with some stops in New York, at Sister Hazel shows and painting on rooftops in Hillsboro in-between. Once the snowball started rolling though, the avalanche wasn’t far behind in this terrible, unnecessary torturing of an analogy. Let’s put it this way: on our first date, we were sitting in an Italian joint, making googly eyes at each other over a plate of spaghetti and giggling like it was 20 years ago and we were back in high school. It didn’t take Madame Marie to figure out this was going to get serious quickly. It did, of course, and now you’re reading this attempt to sum up our entire relationship in 200 words. Suffice it to say, the idea you can find your person in someone who has been your friend for 20+ years is not something either one of us would have planned on, but happiness arrives when it arrives. And we couldn’t possibly be happier. Take that, Miss Cleo.