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rue-madame's Diaryland Diary

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Toothless

Is it ok to eat Nutella with a spoon? Then chase it with a spoonful of almond butter and some smashed banana?

And call it a “snack”?

I am so paranoid about the rest of my tooth falling out that I’ve been eating mushy things. I’ve also been leaning to the right when I eat to ensure that food stays on the “good” side of my mouth. I’m sure I look deranged. Nothing new.

The weirdest thing really is feeling like I’ve got Half Dome in my mouth. As if my tooth had been sheared magically in half by some state park-level natural forces.

It feels so gross and nauseating when I run my tongue over the broken part. Naturellement, I cannot stop checking in the mirror to sicken myself further by looking at it. What is this bizarre urge?

I think I spent most of yesterday in a funk over the tooth. I felt pathetic sipping tea through a straw, carefully eating baby rice cereal. It was like a sign from above. “This is what you have to look forward to. Be thankful you have all but one tooth in working order” or something. Or maybe it was more like “You think you’re so high and mighty with your educated, well-bred teeth. I’ll show you.”

Teeth are very important. In dreams, teeth have huge significance. If they’re rotting, that can mean that your business is in jeopardy; if they’re falling out, that can signify that you’re questioning your self-image or just anxious about future plans. On top of actually having a broken tooth, I am also having tooth nightmares, people! I am doubly screwed!

Bad teeth are a social stigma. Try to imagine the stereotype of a southern yokel without bad teeth or a giant gap between the two front ones. (Except for you, Madonna. Oh and you, Letterman.) Or how about an Austin Powers without dirty beans-on-toast teeth? Or think of teeth in the emerging world: solid ones made of gold or silver--like Jaws from “Moonraker”, only scarier because that’s as modern as the dentistry gets!

This is one of my more American sides, this obsession with perfect, healthy shiny teeth. I’m not proud of it; it’s just one of those socio/economic cultural biases you grow up with. In France, teeth don’t stand in for class and status the way they do here. It’s something peculiar to the States, I think. We brush and floss with a frequency that makes other cultures scoff.

I didn’t mean to write so much about teeth. Kind of a strange entry. One with no bite, ha ha!

4:09 p.m. - 2004-09-22

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