Growing pains.

I got tripped 4 times today. Going out with the rest of my family is not only painful but apparently quite embarrassing it seems. We went to the dentist and it was again, painful. My own dad tripped me up as i went to get my mouth poked. I think i've offically lost all dignity when venturing out in public, particularly as upon scrutinising other people for poor dress sense or toilet paper on their shoe; i'm forever the jackass with food down her front or the one to fall flat on her face as a result of a cruel inter-related joke.

Today only reinforced my hatred of the dentist. The waiting room smells of death, mostly because it's next victims have claimed all the chairs with their polyester trousers and free travel passes. The magazines are outdated, and convieniently they always have every ancient genre that you wouldn't read - 'Dentist Monthly' or 'Women and Home'; a poorly structured waste of tree that harvests women who would actually buy Kylie Minogue's Bedroom range as potential readers.

Upon finally making it past the department store cafe crew into the dentist chair i only spend the next 10 minutes wondering what they honestly think of the insides of my mouth and whether everytime they say 'good oral hygiene' they too think of the sexual connotation. Probably not. Probably just me. I was still shown the big plastic replica of a set of gums and teeth, made aware of the bits most significant to be tended to, and avidly invited back in six months time so she could shine a light in my eyes once more and i could feel as 'orally' violated.

Suffice to say that my life is unsignificant enough at this given moment in time to the extent that a trip to see the dentist is as traumatic as dying, or something.
I want to work out why i no longer paint my nails red, but opt for black...
just what is it i'm trying to say?