The other night I was watching Bring it On (or in german Girls United! because one should never over stress the second language abilities of a country where they´ll correct you on the use of Can I or May I). Aside from the flipping cartwheel watch my cute spandexed arse spin in air as I grin like maniacal crack-addict ´cause I´m doomed to be a small-town hairdresser when I grow up characters, only two thing really impressed themselves on my switched-off brain.
The first was that Kirsten Dunst is so damn cute I wish she´d suffer a really bad nose job which completely destroys her acting career, just so that I don´t have to be faced with the reality that cute is a phrase which has never, ever been applied to me by someone with a blood alchohol level below that capable of knocking out a medium-sized African Elephant.
The second is that I must be the World´s Number One Incompetent Tooth-Brusher.
There was that cutesy little Kirsten and her bad boy love interest having A Moment while brushing their teeth. Not a piece of spittle appeared at the corner of their mouth. No white foam remained attached to their chin after spitting. And their perfectly choreographed spitting into the basin hit dead center everytime. It must have made all tobacco chewers proud. Not a single mouthfull accidentally connected with the tap, to then run down the length of it leaving a trail of saliva and toothpaste behind like a hemorrhaging snail.
DrH is a tooth-brusher of similar finesse, able to wander around the house for the prescribed 4 minutes with toothbrush firmly probing the recesses around every tooth. No evidence of spittle will appear. He needn´t stay bent over the basin ready for an emergency spit, because that never happens to him.
He´s a man in control of his toothbrush.
I, meanwhile, am not. I hate to have a mouth full of foamy toothpaste. I´ve tried to keep it all in until I´m done, but it results in such a gag reflex that I´m in danger of having to brush my teeth again to remove the vomit taste. So I remain chained to the basin where I brush with the continual half spitting, half dribbling technique perfected by 1 year old´s the world over. It´s an unattractive sight: the hunched back, the foamy mouth, the dribbled on chin.
I must now deal with the idea that not only will I never have Kirsten Dunst´s petite nose or perky spandexed butt, but she beats me on tooth-brushing technique as well. Can I never win?