Thursday, January 27, 2011

Ben and 5 Dayton J

I suppose it is time to describe the four people that do not live in my house even though it feels like they do.

Ben did live in our house. A lot of his stuff still does. Aside from his random fits of anger, Ben is pretty level-headed. He has his way of doing things and walks around in that world of routine. His skinny figure is always accentuated by his outfits. There is always at least one item of clothing that seems comically large on him. Some days it’s his plastic sunglasses, other days it is his overly large shoes or enormous coat. He has an obsession for pop culture; he watches trashy reality shows like “Real Housewives of Beverly Hills” and walks around the house singing opera versions of the latest pop songs—in his underwear. He graduated early and now the only signs of him are all of the things he left behind: some ugly black shoes, some wooden coasters from South Africa, and a couple blankets. There is probably more, lord knows we keep finding it all around the house. He has a blog, everyone should read it.

Then there is Jacob. Jacob likes history, but not his major. He is a veritable encyclopedia on all things historical. The best way I can describe him is Baloo the Bear from the Jungle Book in appearance, and a toned down version of him in demeanor. Things seem to roll off his hairy back. His diet is composed of ketchup and cheese. I’m pretty sure he could just live off of meals composed solely of those two ingredients. After spending time at his house I have been able to pick up on some of why he is the way he is. He loves his dark gray cat Hobbes and lives a mostly sedentary lifestyle. A defense mechanism developed to avoid doing chores, something his task driven mother has plenty of. That’s not to say he’s lazy, he mostly goes with the flow of things; letting things run their course through him. The best times with Jacob are the quiet nights where he has shared something important.

Katherine is excitable. Her voice steadily rises in pitch until it is a mere squeak. When she laughs, I get the sense that it isn’t something everyone is privileged to hear. She has firm composure similar to that of James and lets her guard down rarely in front of acquaintances. The easiest way to see her open up is when her hands start talking. In terms of people who have transformed themselves immensely in the time I have known them, Katherine is up there at the top. Korena always refers to her eccentric sense of style freshman year (think patched up jeans and can tab necklaces) as evidence of her change, but I think it is far more subtle. I think that she has become comfortable showing her personality without wearing it around her neck. She used to carry the weight of the world on her shoulders, now it is something she can take off and relax without. She is driven and intelligent, focused on her chemistry and happy with herself.

Korena is the founder of our friends. At least that’s how she characterizes herself. And I can’t disagree—completely. She did bring all of us together in a sense; her warmth and persistence driving all of us together when we otherwise would have been indifferent. She is a hopeless romantic; believing in the fairy tale when the world stares her right in the eye. Korena and I get into huge fights, one time we fought to the point of exhaustion; taking all of our anger out on each other. At one point it devolved into wrestling matches. She fights hard for what she believes though, and if the world isn’t that way she goes out and tries to make it so. Despite our different points of view I commend her for her hopeless romanticism. It takes a lot of effort to care for and smile at everyone all the time; somehow she manages it. Other times though, she eats everyone out of house and home. Food is an obsession for her; a tangible connection between love and food exists. Therefore she eats as much of it as she can find—food, not love.