The world is your oyster!: Chopin and Show'n-a-shan        
 
                 
     
       

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playgrounds
dressing up
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My name is Heather.

I am 22 years old.

I am an East Coast girl
who also loves Utah.

I love my life. How could I not?

The world is my oyster :)
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Friday, January 29, 2010

Chopin and Show'n-a-shan

Before you start to read this, I should warn you: this is going to be a really weird post. I'm just thinking a lot about bathrooms at the moment, and this post definitely reflects that.

OK.

When we were younger, my sister Kelly told me that every time she flushed the toilet, she thought in her head the following chant: "Show'n-a-shannnnn-ba-da-dam-bam-bammm-aw-aw-aw-aw-aw! Boom, ba da doom boom. WOO!-bang." Try and say it. That's what a toilet flush sounds like. Ever since then, I have also heard this chant in my head every time I flush.

Today, I went to the bathroom in the library. Fourth floor, outside of the LRC. For those of you that aren't aware, the front room of this bathroom can be a magical, posh room of luxury if you want to take a nap, and is completely furbished with couches, pillows, and arm chairs. I myself have been there on many occasions between classes to catch a quick snooze, and I've always had a pleasant experience (barring the time I was rudely awaken by someone with explosive diarrhea). However, if you are not going there for a nap, and instead to use the facilities, you might feel like you are walking into an important audition, which you will give from a confessional booth instead of from a stage.

I was going there to use the facilities.

I walked in to find three of the couches occupied with sleeping girls, one of the armchairs occupied by a girl studiously doing her homework, and the other armchair invitingly unoccupied. Duly noted. I made my way to the confessional booth bathroom stall, acutely aware of the heavy silence. As I walked in and closed the door, not a sound could be heard other than the irregular scratching of pen on paper. I'm sure all the girls in the heavenly foyer area were concentrating on their own activities, but I was squeamishly diffident to the idea of four utter strangers knowing exactly how I spent the next minute or so.

Let's just be clear: I've never had a shy bladder. My sister cannot pee in a cup to save her life, contrary to sound science that states that the contents of four water bottles all consumed in quick succession must come out one way or another. I, on the other hand, apparently have a closer relationship to camels than most people and don't need much water. This is nice for many reasons--for example, I hardly ever get thirsty, and I don't have to carry a water bottle around with me. However, there are also a few downsides, the most relevant being that pretty soon after I do have a drink of water, I had better be on the lookout for a bathroom. So I've never really suffered from Kelly's complex.

But today, as I sat in my stall, wishing the girls in the foyer would kindly put in their headphones for a minute, I would like to think that I at least felt some of her pain. It wasn't all bad, though; because of this, I thought of a wonderful idea.

Classical music should always be playing in the restroom. I mean seriously....why are bathrooms so quiet anyway? No one wants to hear everyone else doing their thing. I appreciate such innovations as loud hand dryers, clunky paper towel dispensers, and over-eager automatic flushers that help eliminate some of the awkwardness. But day after day, because none of these modern conveniences exist in the primitive bathroom by the LRC, girls are forced to shuffle abashedly from their stalls past four or five girls who may as well have been in the stall with them.

If classical music was playing throughout the bathroom, this would no longer be such an ordeal. You could time everything perfectly. Cymbals would benevolently cover up every unseemly sound that might come from your stall. Gone would be the days of awkwardly waddling past your unintentional audiences. Classical music would put the pleasure back in peeing.

Now I'd like to go back to the anecdote I brought up earlier about "Show'n-a-shannnnn-ba-da-dam-bam-bammm-aw-aw-aw-aw-aw! Boom, ba da doom boom. WOO!-bang." When I thought of this idea of having music in the bathrooms, I thought it was brilliant. Now that I have thought about it a little more, I've come to the conclusion that I associate music with going to the bathroom. Here are the reasons I have come up with for why this might be:

1. This whole "show'n-a-shannnnn" chant. I've thought it ever since I was little. Is it anything, really, other than adding music to a typical bathroom routine?

2. The "pee-pee in the pot" song. When we were potty-training, my mom would sing the following song:
"I am learning how to pee-pee-ee in the potty,
Pee. Pee. Pee. Pee! In the pot.
Pee. Pee. Pee. Pee! Go right in.
Pee. Pee. Pee. Pee! Do it again."
There's another bathroom-music connection.

3. One time when my grandparents were visiting, my grandma spent 5 minutes to describe a "lovely, musical" episode of flatulence she had recently experienced. So I guess it runs in the family to connect the two.

4. When I was in orchestra in high school, my director, Mr. O'Bryan, would frequently tell us that our performance had sounded like poop. In one particular case, he told the oboe that she should embrace her role as "the kid who comes along and pees in the sandbox and ruins it for everyone." (In other words, she was supposed to play as obnoxiously as possible.) Well, well. Music and bathrooms.

5. I remember one FHE when I was about 7 or 8 years old, and I left to go to the bathroom. For some reason, as soon as I got in the bathroom, I had to sing. I hadd to. So I sang my little heart out for the entirety of my visit, and when I was done, I went out to see that my whole family had left and hidden in the laundry room. It was a funny experience and yet another reason why I associate the bathroom with music--it just seems natural.

So in conclusion. All I'm trying to say is, if elevators can have music in them, shouldn't bathrooms, too?

And just while we're on the subject of bathrooms, I'd like to make a note for the boys, too. Apparently, there are three unspoken rules of using the men's restroom. I've heard that they are:

1. Don't talk to each other.
2. Don't look at each other.
3 If there is a urinal open that is not immediately next to a urinal being used, use that one.

Here's what I think they should be:

1. Don't poop in the urinals.
2. Don't urinate anywhere other than in the urinals (i.e., on the walls, ceiling, etc.)
3. No racing. Everyone should be allowed to comfortably go at his own pace.

Of course, I have no authority on the matter whatsoever. I'm a girl. I've been in the boys bathroom a few times, I will admit, but never to use the urinal. I never plan to use a urinal. These rules are just things that I think sound good, and if I were a man, I would appreciate everyone adhering to them.

I think I've touched on enough awkward subjects for one post. Good night :)

3 comments:

  1. Hahaha. Heather you're hilarious. And SUCH a good writer. Seriously, maybe you should rethink your major. That post made me laugh so hard.

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  2. wow! really jordan?? that's a wonderful compliment coming from an English major who works in the writing lab and is also a great writer! thank you :)

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  3. hahahahaaa Heather. i just am still laughing from your rules for the boys bathroom lol. you are so funny.

    ReplyDelete