First off, I need to know what to do with my life that would merit the title of my autobiography being Headshots of Hand Models. Other than becoming an actual hand model, because one time? I worked with this guy who had a possible fetish and he hand-shamed me by saying the crease between each of my fingers runs too deep. And now I notice it all. the. time. Anyway, I am kind of enamored with the very idea of headshots of hand models. Like this one.
Please note I said enamored and not obsessed. I hate the overuse of the word obsessed. Even worse #obsessed. Often used with #literally. #killmenow But why focus on the negative when there is this? So much so positive.
I love him. And her. She looks like she would be a good time, no? Like you never know what she's going to say. She's wacky like that.
I'm thinking I need to write a book about this MS thing. Or is that what everyone says who is misdiagnosed for 15 years, called a hypochondriac, finally diagnosed after her mom and step-dad die, then raises money for a life-changing/saving stem cell transplant in Israel? I know. Such a goddamn cliche. But I think I might need to. It just might be the only book where the acknowledgment section is written before anything else. (Don't worry--you're totally mentioned.)
So I guess I need to know: could I get away with the title Headshots of Hand Models? Kinda' like that one friend of mine who wants to open a store called Buttons! Buttons! Buttons! only she wouldn't sell buttons at all but something else, anything else? Or should my book also be called Something Else, Anything Else? Or? ________? While we're at it, I'm also putting together a kick ass playlist, you know, songs for when I'm feeling horrible in Tel Aviv and need to go all Eye of the Tiger on thisScheiße. So far I've got Welcome to the Jungle, maybe a little Back in Black, The Clash anything, When The Levee Breaks, Daft Punk, NWA, Happy Birthday by The Ting Tings for the day I get my stem cells back. Any suggestions for me?
Because this is happening. All of it.
xo, S Amazing photos from here. Except the pics of me. Photo credit for those is all Zoey. Please no comments on the unsightly deep creases where my fingers meet my hand.
Hi, I'm Susannah and I love shiny things, swimming, the smell of fresh cut grass, orange blossoms and horse shit. The feel of my children's eyelashes on my cheek is a live virus that grows in me, multiplies and sustains. I will never understand Amish Friendship Bread.
I write for love but money works, too. Email me for more info, or just to say hello.