The Happiest Moment of My Life.

A tall order, right? Who can just reflect on a meager 22 years and call out when and where he was when nothing has been better. I can. That's who. Maybe something else will come along to usurp the throne, but given the circumstances I highly doubt this. The situation was truly unique, for it was perfectly in sync with my dualistic nature. It started as perhaps one of the saddest times I've had.

It was the dwindling weeks before I finally moved to San Francisco. I'd been talking up my big life-changing move for over a year, and it was met with mixed reactions. Not everyone thought I would do it. But I bought the ticket months in advance, gave myself the deadline and the certainty. And now it was approaching, and I found myself wandering Portland's streets, my heart crying out to the sidewalks and bricks. I would miss them, sincerely. They were as close to me as my friends.

And my friends. I had to leave them. This was a sad time. The SPA Awards ceremony had been an over-indulgent rollercoaster of parting words and thoughts, but soon it would be one singular fateful moment, where I had to face those whom I love, and part with them. I even went and found myself the most remarkable girlfriend, who was well aware of my plans, and accepted my decision. These days were rough stuff.

When put in extremely emotionally trying situations, I tend to resort to the simple things I know I do best and I can control. So, to mark my departure, I created a Facebook event. My own Going Away party. I know. Lame. So lame. But I did it. And invited my whole fucking Friends list. The plan was real simple. It was two days before I leave, a Saturday. Everyone was going to find the time in their schedule to drop in to the Great Lost Bear, where they would find me, dressed up like some fancy ass motherfucker, drowning pint after pint pretending it made the day easier. Everyone would be there. We'd laugh, we'd cry, and it's be OK. I'd be there all day, just to make sure I caught everyone for one last good-bye hurrah. Facebook-wise, it had a great turn out of Confirmed Guests. Even more Maybe's. This was a good sign. I'll credit a man right now who did show up, no alias, Benjamin Lambert, for coming up with this sociomathematical equation. Take the # of Confirmed Guests and multiply it by two. Then add half the Maybe's. Add a plus or minus two variable, and the end result is the number of people that will filter in and out of your Facebook Event. It works. I'm not kidding. So with 30 Confirmed I was looking forward to this. Even told the staff of the Great Lost Bear to get ready for some serious business.

I dressed fancy. Not expecting anyone else to. I got my best friends Justice Train, NFC, Willy Bobcox and Whitesnake to drop me off at the GLB ten minutes late than the starting time, hoping to catch a crowd there waiting anxiously. They had to go home to shower first. Or something.

But inside, there was no crowd. Just one couple, friends of friends, who heard I was leaving and wanted to quickly say goodbye and enjoy a solitary beer with me. And my old boss/teacher from USM, who had just left the school and moved to Boston. He drove all the way up to see me. I was touched. I caught up with the couple and my boss, got a big plate of nachoes and a Pabst and got ready for what was gunning up to be one long day.

We sat there for half an hour. No one else came. The couple had a good excuse to mosey on out, which I respected and understood, we only knew each other so well. That left just me and my old boss, who while mowing down on some wings slid me a glance that really spoke out loud "So this is your big party, Trav?" My Pabst was empty and replaced with record speed.

NFC, Justice Train, NFC's lady, and Whitesnake finally decided to end my self-pity-party and arrive. They worked for my boss too, so we had plenty to talk about. I felt better.

A second group of friends appeared, a group of ladies I knew in highschool who somehow moved one block down the road from my place in Portland, hereby referred to as the Granite St. Gurlz, and our mutual friend Travis. Same name, amazing results. It was awesome they came, but they didn't really know the other social circle present. It was like at your birthday when your friends aren't hanging out with your cousins. Anyways. I felt relieved. People were showing. This was not A Bust.

But the crowd did not really grow from there. No one else showed and we had been at the Bear for a few hours now. I was internally struggling, choosing when to text my girlfriend to come, I wanted her to see a big hopping party, not two tables eating with me in the middle trying to make a conversation bridge anywhere I could. It wasn't really awkward, but you know. Not what I was expecting. Where was everyone? All the Confirmed guests?? The Maybe's?? Maybe Ben's little Facebook math was total bullshit.

The Granite St. Gurlz + Travis got bored or something and had to leave, but promised to try and show up later on for a final goodbye. I was a bit glad, so I could focus on my core best friends, but sad the number of heads at my party was halfed. But they had my back, and suggested we head up into the Old Port for more bar-hopping and drinking. This sounded delightful. Perhaps more popular bars would draw out the rest of my friends from whatever the fuck they were doing besides being my friends. Seriously. The Reverend? Autonomous Government? Dirty JC? Dr. Malkav? J-Grande? Tails? Countless others who deserve aliases but don't have them yet?? Where the hell was everyone?

So we walked up into the city, picking up my girlfriend on the way. I'm really having some trouble giving her an alias here, so I'll think of one later. With her consultation. My boys hadn't really seen much of her at this point, so it was real nice to show off the beauty I'd caught. We first went to Nevarro Res, an imported beer house with a nice garden and wide array of tasty German and Belgian ales, weisses, lagers, pilsners and so on. I start texting some fools with little results. But hey, we're drinking. It's a party. Whatever.

I start getting this real defensive sad-happy, like: "You know, these are my real friends. Fuck everyone else. This is how it should be."

Meanwhile, my girlfriend is experiencing some roommate drama and texting a lot. Willy is getting all riled up trying to get us to go to someone's apartment where he can drink the forties in his backpack. I get called up by this old friend of mine, AGES old. Like. When I was nine and ten. Summer camp best friend from way back. Vacationing at Old Orchard Beach, got the Facebook invite and was heading over. No way! He shows up and it's awesome, I do my best to keep from just reminiscing with him solely and make sure everyone else is happy and socializing.

We think about moving locations and getting another drink. I'm fuzzy at this point if more people joined us. People. If you are my friend and joined me at Nevarro then went to Gritty's with us. I'm sorry you are not mentioned. I was drunk and getting more drunk to keep myself in this strange sad-happy. We went to Gritty's for one pint. At this point I'm drunk-dialing people, Auto-Gov first. He's my dogg. He was even living in Portland but drove all the way to Portland to see me, but was instead hanging out with Dirty JC. Doing... something. Nothing. What the fuck. I'm starting to think maybe apartments were the way to go with this thing, the bars demanding too much effort, travel and money. Auto-Gov tells me that Big Pink Bicycle, J-Grande's girlfriend, is over at her apartment with J-Grande and that there's plenty of room there for everyone.

I pull Whitesnake aside in a secret huddle to steer the course of my party.

"Hey, I think this will be a really good idea. Should we go to Pink Bicycle's after Gritty's?"

"Yeah, Trav. That is a good idea."

So I decree it, and everyone agrees. Hurray. I came up with a good idea and they liked it. This feels better. We finish up Gritty's and take off for Pink Bicycle's apartment carpooling. NFC's crew gets there first. I ride with my lady and Whitesnake and the old camp friend. She's still texting her roommates like a madwomen and not really involved, which unnerves me. Whitesnake starts acting a bit weird too, like he's thinking about something else thats upsetting and not fun.

We pull up at the place, and unload. I start heading for the door but Whitesnake mumbles to me. I'm all like What, dude? And he says real low he needs to talk to me, about something important. This man is my dogg, and I don't care where in the country I'm flying tomorrow, that doesn't change a thing, and if my dogg needs to talk to me man to man then that's what I'm doing instead of my party.

I'm very concerned. What could possibly be going wrong. He's being all distant and not looking me in the eyes. I don't get two words out of him about whatever it is, he just throws in the towel and tells me to go inside. But I protest, like, No man. Tell me what's up, you can tell me anything. But no, he's over it and pushes me in. We go up the stairs. I'd never been here before.

We first arrive in the kitchen, where my old roommates and best home boys Autonomous Government, Dirty JC and J-Grande are waiting for me, with a special surprise from an old friend named Valter, who I hadn't seen in ages. I instantly go up and hug Auto-Gov and Valter, drunk and stoaked they were finally part of my mobile party. But they like, didn't even care. Auto-Gov didn't even say a proper hello, or good to see you it's been so long. This hurts. He kind of brushes me off of him too, into the living room.

My girlfriend and Whitesnake say their hey's and hello's to the other guys, but it's not really a party. Just people standing in a kitchen. I didn't even see any beers open. But I was in the living room now, where it was dark, and there's all of these cupcakes out on the table. Obviously Big Pink Bicycle made them.

"Why are all these cupcakes out in here?" I ask the kitchen where everyone was.

Then the lights come on, and I hear this roar behind me.

A door opens and well over thirty people just unload like a clown car from some room.

And it's everyone I love.

It was a fucking Surprise Party.

The Reverend, Dr. Malkav, his girlfriend, Robber & Thief, the Granite St. Gurlz, BFF's, everyone in the kitchen, old friends, new friends, acquaintences, accomplices, comrades, compadres, hombres, amigos, it was fucking nuts. They all were cheering and clapping and hollering and I was just standing there slack-jawed like a retard by this table full of cupcakes. I was laughing in disbelief while crying from happiness. It was unreal.

Valter comes right up to me and cracks open a Strongbow and hands it over, an imported cider I really dug while I was in London, but how did he know? Where did he get it? What in God's name is going on?

Turns out even before I created my own event my girlfriend and Big Pink Bicycle conspired and created a secret Facebook event I couldn't see and set the whole deal up. Everyone was in on it from Day One. Except me. Even my old friend from summer camp knew. My girlfriend had been texting my status back to the surprise party, tracking my movements and ideas, making sure I would eventually make it back there somehow.

And here I was thinking no one cared. Such love. I couldn't even speak right for a while, as people hugged me and gathered around.

The fridge was filled to the brim with Pabst Blue Ribbon. At least 90 of them.

It was one of the greatest parties of my life, but hands down the Happiest Moment of my life. The whole sad-happy build up, the surprise, all of my friends, my girlfriend, the love, the beer, it was all too much. It was perfect.

Each friend was given proper respects, thanks and well wishes. I wanted to make sure I had a real moment with everyone there before they left. Everyone said good-bye. Some cried. I sure did. It's just fitting how the saddest moments and happiest feelings can collide like this.

And I don't think I can ever be more thankful to everyone I know and love. I am nothing. These are the people that build me. They are my why's and how's, my where's and when's.

I was moved. Forever will be.