double pockets

The opposite of burning clean?

Sometimes in the wiping process, it never ends. You get the outer layer clean, but you are suspicious. It's definitely not over. You dig in a little, maybe find a clean corner here, messy corner there, but it's hard to know when it ends. In my wiping method (small pieces, never big wads), you go for more discrete attempts than you normally would: a bunch of small, targeted stabs at the end that constantly uncover new, yet-uncleaned pockets. You eventually give up figuring you've reached a stable equilibrium, but particularly on a hot or cold (and hence layered) day, that sweat or extra fabric feels really unsettling the rest of the day. And the next one is clean or whatever. And you take a shower eventually.

impossible

It is not possible to poop in space.

It is more possible to poop in a bank of snow.

Take care.

butter?

I just couldn't believe how much stool there was. Again.

[see last post... still on that vibe...]

Bernoulli report

Recently, an inverse relationship had made itself known. Namely:

-the frequency of my trips to duduk on the toilet seat have decreased, and relatedly

-the aggregate volume I deposit inside the toilet bowl has increased.

It's like you only go grocery shopping once a week but you buy a lot, instead of getting just what you need for that day.

If this occurs in the morning (the release of aggregate bolus), then it feels pretty satisfying. It also (the big load-drop) makes the smaller, more routine but equally meaningful deposits seem less significant, which is an illusion. Llord, give me clarity, or at least some celery (fiber, etc.).

quick (s)hits

1. Sometimes it takes some unpleasant flatulence to make you realize how much less often you fart than you used to. I suppose it was a social thing, growing up male with a male sibling and mostly male friends: farting is always greenlit. But I almost never fart outside the confines of the doo-doo room these days. So the last week has been notably for my general gassiness. That's a nice name for a small store: General Gassiness. Or a character. Feel free to spread that one around, I relinquish all rights on that name. But give me a little freebie when you strike it rich, huh? Remember who your gassy friend is. Hopefully it's just a phase.

2. After admiring some of my handiwork (visually) last week for its lighter-than-water properties, I was struck by how much a particular crap of the last 24 hours sunk. Everything's been so floaty of late, and now we're living on the other side of the bowl. What did I eat? Oh yeah... corn chips & bread that day... never really had dinner... thanks for nothing, road tripping. Actually it was great.

huh?

Why would you want to tell other people about your own stool?

Don't you think they've got their own stool to deal with?

Often problematically so?

Isn't this just talking to seem more impressive?

A notch in my belt - oh yeah, I blog about my feces, now listen to me saying that I do it?

Like having an experience more for the conversational capital than the actual experience?

Isn't what's best about pooping that it eschews such consumption? You do it so often and so viscerally that it often has to happen before you can get ready to, you know, scrapbook it?

Hence my focus on it: if I must blog, and I may not, I'd like it to be in such a realm. I like the small truth that comes quick and then gets flushed away, only to return later that afternoon in a setting halfway across the borough. Always a story to lead with, even if sometimes it's just politics.

always

Every day, I am pooping.

Only some of the time am I updating this here thing.

I don't want you to think for a minute that I'm not pooping, however, this is just a recognition of the fact that when you do something every day, several times a day, you are often overwhelmed by the thought of chronicling it.

I just pooped. I was very morning-poop-like, appropriately enough. That would mean: full of meaning, not a quickie, cleansing, helping you rededicate yourself as you move forward. I was not smooth, it had interesting edges. It was dark. I'd like to eat some dal or some chapati in the near future.

tense

Why, at this very moment, I have to poop.

You may ask, why are you writing about it, rather than doing it?

But I would say I am describing the contemporary condition.

And very soon I will just go ahead and poop.

Be well,

DR

in regards to crab

I have eaten crab three times in my life (knowingly). Once was Lynn's birthday this past May. Twice was in Java as part of a lunchtime seafood treat with Pak S & Bu M. The third time was this past Friday with BWB at Sriphaprai - fried soft-shell crab with green curry (with pumpkin!). Based on very little, I have gone into each experience expecting my poop to come out the other end on the runny kine. I don't really remember the first two times; if it was, it was nothing serious. This third time was also unremarkable, although I did poop probably five times on Saturday, which is a little high on the average these days, and the third was particular runny. Maybe it was the crab, maybe not. You see how what I'm describing is my self-conditioning, right?

bodies

With an updated roster as of last Sunday, here are the major geographic bodies on which I can remember having pooped:

North America

Europe

Java

Ireland

Great Britain

Hawaii (as in the big island)

Long Island

Smaller:

Manhattan

one of the Harbor Islands off Boston

Eagle Island, ME

Deer Island, ME

Fire Island, NY

Aran Islands, IE (kind of speculation, it was 1991)

part of Hong Kong (where the airport is)

I think I've never gone on Staten Island.

You?

clean again

Okay, it's not like it's been continuously clean since that last post about it, but this morning the burning clean syndrome saved my butt. Ha.

We were out of toilet paper, I was puttering this morning and eventually there was a sharp need for making doo doo, and quick-like. No time to get TP. However, I had not taken a shower yet and I am equipped with Javanese theories of what to do in lieu of TP, so I was not scared. Plus, there were like six squares left on the old roll. As it was happening, I was not confident we were burning clean, but when I went to wipe, guess what? No need for panic. Thanks, burning clean. I used like four squares anyway, just to be sure. 2 x 2.

curiousities

Yesterday, I crapped on two occasions such that while finished up, I stole a peripheral glance backwards and down, I thought, have I eaten beets or something recently? Blueberries? The color balance was not what it usually is you see. But this was kind of a more light yellow tinge, like seeing some kind of curry powder. Maybe there was something reddish in there too. Trying to remember that glimpse feels like trying to remember a dream. Let alone describe it to you.

clear (with exceptions)

For the last week or so, I am burning incredibly clean. For those of you who have no idea what I mean by that, I mean that after I shit, I go to wipe and there's not much residue left to be cleaned up. One or two wipes of instinctual caution, and then I can pull my pants back up and wash the hands. Burning clean.

I can't recall from whom I got this expression, it's a pretty curious one. I've rarely said it out loud (given the subject matter in part, I guess), and I've got a suspicion, as I often do, that I'm using this idiom in a way that's incorrect. Maybe it commonly means something else. Maybe I made it up based on something I misheard someone say. The expression itself makes me think of oil coming out of the ground and being introduced to that little flame. Anyway, you, now, reading this, have three possible options: propagate my expression, do some research and tell me if I'm correct, or ignore this all together.

May your poops burn as clear as mine have been (the last one wasn't super clean, it was more of a three or four wipe scenario... and by the way, this is getting at the larger issue of how I wipe, but let's save that for another time).

ny clean

Back in NYC now. In Java, I had the general feeling of "bowel allergies", which in my mind works like this: when I've got allergies in the states, I might feeling coughy, sneezey, itchy-eye-y, etc. in the morning, like every morning for a month, up til about 11 AM, after which point I feel fine. So it was in Java with my tummy: kind of feel like the shits are gonna take you over from waking up until 10 or 11 AM (often with no tangible crap to show for it), only to feel fine in the afternoon. So it went.

I've been back less than 72 hours. I must report that within the first 48, I had some very cathartic stuff. There's the feeling of having a shit you're just proud to have made, a real slate-clearing, hefty piece of work (Neal Hefti joke to be made?), and I think I've had like four of those in 48 hours. I don't want to take more than my fair share, but I guess I'm expelling something from my system. Very textured doo-doos also, these aren't the smooth, bland, grey kind of big ones, these are real, honest slate-clearers which clearly came from some real food.

Anyway, as ever, just wanted to share. Hope all your craps are happy ones!

forcing it; java

So I've been in Solo, Central Java, Indonesia for the last two weeks (two to go).  Plenty to talk about poop-wise, but I want to share this:

Most pooping in Java is done into literal shit holes - a squatting toilet with no flushing power.  No toilet paper, instead you use your left hand and a bucket of water.  I have yet to shit like this.  Sort of.  There was actually one morning when my kos (where I'm staying) was out of TP, so before my mandi (bucket shower), I had a shit, used water, used my hand a little, and used water again.  Perfectly fine.  The catch is that we've got a toilet, so I've yet to squat.  There's the big difference.  I don't feel as though I need to prove anything by squatting, I've done my share of shitting in the woods (I prefer a trowel to a shit hole most days).

Anyway, my teacher here has both the hole and the toilet.  However, before today, I've never noticed TP in his bathroom (there ended up being some today).  I had the runs yesterday, and in preparation for being at his place from 8 AM to about 2 or 3 PM, I took a roll of TP, just in case.  Before I left this morning, tried to force the issue, even though it didn't feel like anything was there.  Some sounds came out, but no solids.  Then I closed up shop.

I was there until 4 PM, and nothing happened.  I could have shit a few times, but today was a perfect example of just holding it.  You kind of force yourself to close up, and then, as happened to me a little at 5 PM, it's hard to get things started again.  You make a decision to lock it down (which I'll admit I used to do in the woods), and then the works don't get greased anew without a little concentration.  Anyway, for now, no more runs, things are back to normal.  Amen.

Happy pooping, campers!

Dave

arrangements

This was a pretty good sequence:

- doctor reminds me I've been kind of anemic recently

- so I eat a cheeseburger for the second time in 2010 (that's an estimate [just not the same without ketchup])

- come home, realize I have to go start getting set up for a performance at school

- take a big, very solid, poop

- proceed with confidence to sound check & performance

Where I was coming from and where I was going really added depth to the catharsis of that shit. On it's own, it was still a pretty solid joint.

Mittag

What a nice mid-afternoon crap today. Very cleansing, very solid; very good means through which to mark the day.

poop steward

Most days, in addition to my own pooping activities, it's my job to bury and/or dispose of the feces my cat Sofa is unable to bury/dispose of herself. You could say I'm a poop steward. It's not the most pleasant part of my day, but I take the job seriously.

Way to poop, stinky cat. Poop on, pooper.

revisitings

The last three days have felt wall-to-wall. This is a change of pace.

One of the effects of this scheduling density was that for the first time in months, I pooped at grad school. Early on in this blog (and its earlier twitter incarnation), I dwelled a lot on where I was pooping. Lately, it hasn't been school, or really outside of my home. This has a lot to do with the change in my diet affected sometime around New Year's. I'm on a classical Chinese acupuncture-recommended diet for several ailments, and I'm avoiding eating the following things:

-raw produce

-cold food & drinks

-nightshades in any form (potatoes, tomatoes, capsicum/peppers/chiles, eggplant, not to mention datura, belladonna, tobacco, etc.)

-aromatics like garlic, onions, shallots, leeks, scallions, etc.

-chocolate

-anything caffeinated (coffee, tea, chocolate, soda)

As you can imagine, cooking at home is a lot easier that eating out with these restrictions, particularly since restaurants often sneak onions and garlic into the darnedest things. Plus, my work this semester has me at home a lot, playing clarinet, programming in Max/MSP, composing around the apartment. So my food cycle is a lot more localized.

The story relevant to this medium however is that yesterday I crapped not once but twice in the great out there, once at school, once at a former work place (sort of in several senses). Both were perfectly enjoyable defecations, a little on the looser side, the second one had some franticness in front of it, a little bit of dancing around if you catch my drift. The first had a nice beet-induced patina, the second did not, and as I turned around to see the beet-infused guys go spinning, I wondered when the last beet-turd in that toilet was.

Tell me, if you, hypothetical reader, are in fact out there, [it's not crucial you identify yourself here, I'm just wondering abstractly] how was your last doo doo?

rare vos

It's a rare day that it's 12:17 PM and the following two things are true:

1.) I have yet to defecate.

2.) I have no feeling that I will soon (aka the doo doo cravings).

This is often the case when I wake up earlier and have to get out the door for something - no time to be taken straight away upon waking, which can be a nice time, and no relaxed ~10 Am crap, rounded out by reading the paper and brushing the teeth. Today will be a different day, it seems.

Still, dear reader, I am pooping regularly, against no odds.
Well, not regularly, but with frequency, I ought to say.
Regularity is for ladies who eat Activia. I like to live on the edge of the bowl.