Tuesday, April 7, 2009

The Toothpaste Files, continued.

Remember this post? My wilful boasting that after months of practice I'd finally mastered the art of brushing my teeth, Dutch style? My tips on tube storage? Saving time in the mornings? The Dutch Toothpaste Principle? Well, just when you think you've checked all the boxes of one of life's little questionnaires, bugger me if there isn't an entirely seperate section over the page that you hadn't noticed.

I haven't been sleeping very well lately. This isn't unusual - when I'm really busy performing, switching off at night is pretty difficult. The same thing happened before Christmas with the hundreds of Messiahs that I sang in, and it's happened now with the several million Passions that I've already written about. When this happens I usually have to give up on school for a bit - which is actually kinda satisfying, really - makes me feel like being a real singer, as opposed to a music student. There is another reason why getting shut-eye has been difficult, though.

Went out the other day to do a shop, as you do. Had run out of toothpaste. The fact that my flat-mate seemed to have hidden his from view was probably a tip-off that he was sick of me helping myself to his and that I should get some of my own. Visited the toiletries section of my local Albert Heijn (the Dutch equivalent of Sainsbury's although not as good), cursed the fact that they had run out of disposable razors AGAIN, and picked out a tube. It was very attractively packaged - all primary colours, called "Parodontax", and it boasted "Natuurlijk actief voor tand en tandvlees!!" in big red letters along the side of the bottle. I had no idea what that meant, but still, I was impressed - "that looks like the toothpaste of any discerning gentleman!" I cried, and added it to my shopping basket. Couldn't wait to get it home and test it out.

Went through my usual beddy-byes routine that evening- finished off my cup of hot cocoa, put my jimmy-jams on, made sure that Frederick the Bear was comfortable and in a good position to oversee my prayers on my return, and went to clean the ol' dentures. Opened the tube and squeezed a bit onto my brush. First impression was not that good to be honest - it was a sort of ugly reddish-brown colour. I don't know about you, but reddish-brown does not make my top five expected toothpaste colours - in fact maybe not even the top ten. I was willing to give it a go, though - using Dutch toothpaste had already proven to be such a growthful and rewarding experience that I wasn't going to dismiss my newest purchase on colour alone. Sadly though, worse was to come - it tasted HORRIBLE. It was SALTY.

Salty toothpaste? I mean, what the fuck???? What sort of evil mastermind thought that would be a good idea??? Just ...... THINK about that for a second.

Salty.

Toothpaste.

Those two words go together like "safari" and "suit", like "folk" and "dancing", like "parents" and "sex" like..... oh, I dunno..... "Kaspar" and "Bepke (hahahaha, in-joke)!!"

It's BAD, it's EVIL, it's all seven shades of wrong, with a few more thrown in for good measure.

And after I used it, I couldn't sleep! It was like I'd gone out and had a skinful, and helped myself to the word's biggest, saltiest kebab or Mcpolyunsaturated Fat Pizza on the way home, and then couldn't sleep because I was dehydrated, but without the fun part. And that's not the worst of it - I actually persevered with the stuff for four days, because I couldn't get to the shop! Throw in some St Matthew Passion-induced insomnia, and you have a recipe for a Kranky Karrot in the morning, I can tell you - no matter how much crappy Dutch coffee I injected intraveneously.

Thought I was getting the hang of this place. Think I've gone back to square one. They use salty toothpaste, I mean honestly. What sort of a country have a landed in???

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