an exercise in endurance

Enter the bathroom, bringing with you a nice, large meal. Begin to defecate. As you defecate, begin eating the meal. Continue defecating until the meal has passed through you completely.

exceptions

When this blog started, I was fixated a lot on where I was pooping. I was transitioning from an old workplace to a new school and assuming that the pooping there would be like the pooping at workplaces and schools from my past, which I have mostly loved and cherished. Things have not played out this way. Mostly I poop at home (I try to eat at home as much as possible these days, the other end of the equation just works out that way).

Significantly, in re: the school plot line, the building where most of my classes happen switched this semester. Thing went from one brutalist 60s-high-school-looking building to a slightly less falling apart building of the same type. I'll call it the "new" building, but understand it's 40+ years old as well; it's merely new to me. This new one has basketball courts. The only bathroom I had been using in the new building has only 1 of 4 spigots that work and a stall for pooping that seems physically improbable. Pooping just hasn't come up this semester, or if it did, I don't remember the specifics, but I must have found another building.

THE REAL STORY HERE: Yesterday I played the first piece on the first concert in the new concert venue of this new building. I have very little in the way of nerves before performing these days, but sometimes a good poop really clears the mind/heart/soul and makes for a nice relaxed performance (conversely, having to pee really badly during a show can be a great spur of quality or at least intensity).

ANOTHER DETAIL YOU'LL NEED FOR THIS ALL TO MAKE SENSE: On Wednesday, I made a really nice dinner with fennel, carrots, cabbage, ginger, tofu, and some black beans, which might have been sitting in the fridge a little too long. I was concerned, but I felt fine Wednesday, and so I took this as leftovers for my dinner on Thursday night before the concert. This entailed leaving home (and refrigeration of said leftovers) around 1 PM. The concert was at 7 PM. I ate at 6 PM.

THE CRUX: It's 6:30. There's some milling around. I suddenly get the doo-doo urges. Something's coming. Figuring nothing's happening in this building on the other floors at this time of day and there's a concert on this floor, I went looking around for the most relatively clean & quiet place to sit for a while, since I could tell something significant was on its way. 1st floor bathroom is the previously mentioned one, the 2nd floor was being cleaned. 3rd floor (floor of the performance) was gonna have to do. Walking back up & entering the bathroom, I found it surprisingly clean & well maintained. I'm not super picky, but it's nice to find a great place, and generally my school's facilities run towards the grosser end. Upon reaching my doo-doo location, using my butt, I emitted a stream of poop with a very high water content into the toilet bowl. It was gross, occasionally loud, cathartic, and a little exhausting. But it worked out. I thought maybe something was bad in the beans. I thought I was nervous. I thought a lot of things.

Sometimes you just get a doo doo out of the blue like this. Everything since has been normal. My stomach is fine. This was just a rumbly storm that manifested itself. I think. But it really made me think. And now, I hope I've made you think. Careful with the beans, careful in new buildings. Poop away, poopers.

from the cat world

Often, when I'm scooping cat poop, I can't ignore the power embedded deep within the phrase "doo doo fried doo doo balls".

That's all for now. What's up? Poop?

mega-library doo doo

Recently, I visited our nation's top hat: Washington, District of Columbia.

I pooped while I was there.

But there's more:

I pooped in the National Archives [it's free admission there]. It was a Sunday. I had just seen the Constitution, the Declaration, the B. of R.s, etc. There were a lot of school groups floating around the building. I had several layers on and a heavy backpack, so it took me some time to set up for my work once I got into the stall. Thereupon, I realized I was one of two people in the bathroom. The other person, probably derived from one of the school groups, said, presumably to himself, that this must be the quietest bathroom in the world. After he left, I felt like his assessment was pretty good. It was a quiet building on a quiet winter Sunday, and there was just me, having a quiet poop.

Pooping in a library bathroom is one of the distinct pleasures in life. Pooping in one of the nation's ur-libraries is thus a sweet thing indeed.

PS - anyone ever call that NFL QB the mocking name of Bathromo?

stercus legis

I had jury duty three of the past seven days. The case was settled after I had already been empaneled, which is a little bit of a let down, honestly. Frankly, I can't imagine a less inconvenient time to serve on a civil case jury. Just a few days in between my semesters, no worries, a coupla bucks via check at the end. A chance for an intimate look at the world of the NY Court System. But no, eight more years before I get to try again...

Anyway, on the first day, before and during voir dire, I was in the process of holding it. I didn't want to be caught pants-around-the-ankles when my number was up. So until 1 in the afternoon, I was audibly not at ease. The med student patiently waiting next to me got an earful of something I'm not certain she could diagnose (she was just starting out in med school). Sometimes my belly does this when I don't permit it full access to pooping facilities - it starts to sing a little bit. A nice feature for me, but probably disconcerting to those around me, imagining smells that might not be there.

On the lunch hour, I got things done at a vegetarian Chinese restaurant. Ate some soy protein then made a deposit. No more howling in the afternoon. Never did get a chance to try out the crapper in the courthouse... hope I don't have to until 2019.

Happy Craps in 2011,

Dave

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.