Restroom (Stall) Review

… Narita, Terminal 1 Shopping Area, 5th floor, as I enter from the end of the outside take-offs viewing deck, proceeding into the hallway area from the restaurant area with the Thai restaurant to your right, then going left a bit, down the hallway, I find a restroom …

… clean, well-lighted, as are all the Narita restrooms … a bit more spacious, between the washbasins and the stalls, than the other Terminal 1 restrooms I’ve used—at least that’s my impression … and virtually empty, this in contrast to the usually pretty busy, centrally-located restrooms of the check-in / ticketing area … at least 3 stalls with Western-style toilets (I can’t verify another, the door of which is closed), which I prefer to the Japanese “squat” variety, of which there aren’t more than two (two assuming the stall with the closed door is of this type; otherwise just the empty one—its door ajar—that I spot) … I choose the end stall …

… the door has a solid, study feel to it and closes, with a sliding lock, firmly and securely (a more solid, sturdy feel; a bit more securely, it seems, than other Terminal 1 stall doors and locks I’ve used, but again, perhaps this perception is due to the positive mood I’ve now entered, which is due, at least, to this restroom’s being almost empty (just me and whoever’s in the other in-use stall), and to my just having come from watching, from the viewing platform, a succession of planes taking off into the brightening day …

… for the flush, a smooth, stainless steel oval of metal, located somewhat above the level of the toilet bowl and mounted on the wall behind it to the left as one faces the bowl upon entering the stall, which oval, sitting on the toilet seat (and after giving the seat a wipe down with a tear-off of three or four sections of toilet paper, then, as I’ve noticed two random-looking holes drilled into the partition near the toilet paper dispenser, their positioning, I presume, a mistake but in any case a commentary on things in life—hopes, intentions, plans, and attempts to execute plans—that don’t come to fruition, meditating on such things for a brief moment), I press to give the toilet a flush, as I always do at dump initiation, the sound of the flushing water providing cover for any BM-related noises—release of gas, sphincteral ejection of BM load, etc.—and, as well, a sort of white noise enabling greater concentration on the BM, including optimal timing of muscle contractions to assist the movement of whatever load matter is (at least somewhat) ready for release in the final segment of its intestinal journey …

… though it takes somewhat longer than usual to find the right timing for the final contractions (I give the toilet another flush when I do so), the BM goes relatively well—a relatively sizeable dump with no stuck feeling of any unable-to-eject load wannabe waste matter remaining after completion …

… thank goodness, and at least relatively healthy (95%+ vegan, the remaining vegetarian) dietary habits: despite all of the (at least potentially) stress-inducing goings on in my life and the world generally, none of which seem to have any easy solution, at least a decent dump …

Frittering . . . Redemption

Posted by VERITAS
Exercised this morning at the NY Sports Club, Princeton Branch, on the 3rd day of their online five days for five dollars trial offer special—that was good: the fine aerobics workout achieved via one of their stairmaster-type machines; the chin-ups on a multi-purpose contraption with a serviceable chin-up bar; the abdominal exercises, push-ups and stretching on a set of their mats.

And then, post workout, I’d managed, also, to make some nutritional purchases at a supermarket in the same shopping center—raw almonds and cashews, the best health bar in terms of protein-to-sugar ratio that I’ve managed to find, two organic bananas, one of which I went ahead and ate right away to supplement the energy and fill of the one I’d eaten before leaving the room I’m staying in (that I found through a bed and breakfast app) to walk to the 1960ish-style (with a large, open plaza space and the shops all only one story) shopping center, where the sports club is located, for my workout.

Back at my room, had the rest of my breakfast, showered, then managed, walking again (I’m not renting a car), to reach the Princeton Public Library to return the free MOMA pass I’d received from the library and used the day before on a day trip to Manhattan in time—by 11:00am—so as not to incur a late fee.

But since then it’s been frittering—trying without success to find a play to see in NYC before my return to Japan—sold out on the dates I could go; then checking the Princeton Library’s DVD collection for some films I want to see—they have them, so maybe I’ll see them before I leave the US, though not enough time today … feeling like no actual progress on anything!

But then a redemptive development: a massive—or substantial, at least—dump in the library’s 2nd floor bathroom! (This after waiting, after having secured myself in the regular (non-special-needs) toilet stall, for a succession of other patrons to piss at the adjacent standup latrine, wash their hands, and exit the bathroom, so that I could have the requisite solitude to follow my ritual of rotating my hands counterclockwise against my temples (which somehow seems to help the M of my BMs substantially), focus on the process completely.)

Lighting for a Perfect Dump

Posted by VERITAS
More than anything else, I suppose, it’s a matter of timing – of remaining ever vigilant for those signature feelings of the slightest internal pressure against the tailbone, of movement within the rectum, which speak to me; say: Now’s the time.
But then there’s also the lighting – which I’ve found to be, for me anyway, the key to BM perfection.
Not the bathroom light or even the nearest light in the adjoining kitchen – those stay off.
No, the far kitchen light is what I use, but even that’s not direct – I let it filter in around the bathroom door, which I mostly close, keep open just a tad.
With the lighting set just so – to a crepuscular, one could even say sepulchral, degree of economy – I turn my focus to the other component of my ritual – positioning palms against temples, then rotating them counterclockwise and the BM usually comes off like, yes, clockwork, the flow so smooth and easy, and it’s done.