Like Anne Shirley, my nose is my comfort. It's little and straight, with a wee silver stud in it. I must have a short upper lip because if you ever watch my nose when I'm talking (in profile of course) it bobs along in agreement with my ems and bees. I have a thing for noses in others, and have received a few strange looks on my spontaneous appreciation of a fine nose.
I also have a thing for teeth. I always wanted braces but never got them. I thought I needed to break my leg and have crutches, get braces, and have a locker with a combination (may have read too many Sweet Valley High books as a kid) to be a legitimate teenager. I never had any of these things, and I'm much less sorry now. Who in their right mind wants to break their leg? Braces sound really painful and expensive. Alright fine, I still want the locker.
But anwyay I've been genetically blessed with white straight teeth.
I was blessed with white, straight, whole teeth for most of my life. A few years ago I was at a club in Sydney with my older sister and three rather hunky Swedish boys we were squiring abound town. At this particular little club they only served beer in bottles, and some miniature person standing in front of me threw her head back at something that must have been SO INCREDIBLY FUNNY with enough force to knock the beer bottle in my hand right into my teeth, chipping the bottom right corner of my front left tooth.
In one attempted sip of a beer bottle I had gone from a smiling, alcoholically-fuelled confident Lady to someone who spoke for the rest of the night with her hand over her mouth. Until I could get to a dentist I felt like I'd lost my entire education along with that bit of tooth enamel, simultaneously shfting suburbs to the west (a definite Sydney reference).
A few days later I was in a car accident (unrelated? perhaps not), and I remember babbling to the policeman (must have been in shock, but probably not) for him not to look at my chipped tooth and that I actually went to a really good school and I was a nice person.
All this over a chip that was in all seriousness about 1 mm x 2 mm.
HOW JUDGEMENTAL AM I??
Anyway, the dentist charged me a mozza to fill it in, and it was good as new, though I've not since been able to eat apples with any sort of Snow White-esque sang-froid.
And then it fell out the other day.
Not the whole tooth (WOULD I BE SITTING HERE CALMLY IF SUCH A MONSTROUS EVENT HAD TAKEN PLACE?), just the cap.
I was out at one of my favourite pubs, Paradise by Way of Kensal Green, drinking and laughing with my mouth wide open, and not a care in the world. The next thing I knew I was reapplying my killer red lipstick in the bathrooms, and instead of the cartoon dazzle I was used to seeing in the reflection, a dark hole had bloomed in that teeny bottom right corner of my front left tooth. My gaping enormous miniature chip! Disaster!
Between talking with my mouth shut, smiling with my eyes, and making explanations of my tooth before anyone I met could possibly have noticed it, unless they had x-ray vision, it was an awful few days. Happens that I had an enormous wedding extravaganza up in Cornwall that weekend and I wouldn't be able to get to the dentist for at least a week.
And you know what?
No one noticed. No one. Until I pointed it out, which of course I did, like a maniac, to anyone that even looked like they were approaching a conversation with me. And then they basically had to shove their eyes into my mouth to see it (trust me, I was chewing mints all the time. With my back molars).
While I felt like my entire face was now a farce - and heaven help me and find me a brown paper bag quickly if ever I break my nose - people were quite capable of holding entire conversations with me, chipped tooth and all. Quelle surprise! If I hadn't pointed it out, no one would have noticed. It's like when someone has a massive zit on their face, and the first thing they say when they see you is 'Oh my God, don't look at the massive zit on my face.' Well of course the first thing you do is look at the zit. And whether it's enormous or teeny, doesn't matter. The only person that actually cares about it is you.
It's fixed again now. Thank goodness. This cap doesn't feel quite as smooth as the other one, but I do feel less like a vampire whenever I gnaw at my lower lip (bad habit).
NB: I wrote this post a while ago. AND JUST THIS SECOND MY EFFING CAP FELL OFF. So now I am going to post this so that I can learn to practice what I preached. And I'm going to a party tonight and gahhhhhh jidasj;fgiasldjfieasjfsjdfaloeifjd dn I'm angry. Stupid bloody dentist stupid face stupid tooth. Not smiling anymore.