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Bigger ain’t always better: small things help keep me sane.

Scenario 1:

Five nights ago, I got a call from an unexpected person. This friend asked if I was home and if I was occupied. I wasn’t. I informed him that I would be home for the next half hour, and he asked if he could stop by. I replied yes. I was planning on leaving my house to go to the election after-party at 8:00pm. It was currently 7:20pm.

I hadn’t seen this friend since his previous year’s birthday, 13 months ago. Ten minutes after we spoke, he arrived at my place. We went through the protocol Q&A of our well-beings, academics, jobs, aspirations, and new occurrences. Our conversation lasted nearly 45 minutes! I regard myself as a punctual being, yet it was 8:15pm when we left the house. Being late to an after-party was farly inferior to catching up with this man.

This friend and I were extremely close our senior year of high school. We bowled together, and he picked me up to school. We chilled together during lunch hours and our free periods. We ditched classes together. I introduced him to alcohol (shame on me), and we threw three kickbacks and got drunk together. My second time smoking weed was with him, amongst others.

Scenario 2:

I went to UC Irvine this afternoon to visit a friend whom I hadn’t seen in over two months. I randomly instant messaged him on my phone the night before, and we set up the man-date to catch up.

Finding his apartment was an adventure in itself, but dining and talking was the true gem. I also finally met his roommate/close friend, whom I often played DotA (computer game for the non-geeks) with.

I’ve known this man since my elementary school years. We saw each other on a weekly basis during last Spring and Summer. We talked about the exact same subjects as scenario 1, and we also shared a few of our stories. A lot of time was also spent dishing sh*t out to his roommate, who was a tremendously great sport.

The moral:

I’m sure that some of you readers associated the blog title with sexual innuendo. I don’t blame the connotation, for it takes a perv to spot a perv. You pervs. Just jokin’.

These small social interactions help keep me sane. I hadn’t seen the two friends for 13 months and two months, respectively. Yet, there was mutual effort to see each other. Knowing that time doesn’t drift certain friends and I apart is a wonderful feeling. Knowing that I don’t need to speak or see some friends for an extended amount of time, yet not become indifferent towards them makes me smile.

Hanging out with a large group isn’t always better. Being part of a huge coalition of some sort isn’t always superior. The one-on-one conversations with childhood friends and high school friends alike help keep me sane. The small, “insignificant” things help keep me sane. The small conversations, text messages, and updates with a special friend 3000 miles away helps keep me sane.

Honestly, fellow readers, I am exhausted. I wasn’t sure how to appropriately (and dramatically) end this post, so I thought of this cheese…

The world be insane, yo. So keep yo sanity in check. Ya na mean?

Thanks for reading. Have a good night.

P.S. No homo. It’s just bromance. Don’t hate, yo.

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