36

"Don't just count your years, make your years count." ~ Ernest Meyers

After a tumultuous 35th year on this planet, I am heading into my 36th year with a lot of uncertainty on my plate. No job, dwindling finances (= no new shoes any time soon...*sniffle*), bills adding up...how am I supposed to be the new, strong woman I thought I could be? Trying to maintain my confidence, a relationship, and a positive outlook is proving to be difficult. Unemployment is like a dark cloud looming over me. A dark cloud filled with rejection letters.

However, I need to keep looking forward and not get stuck in my dark ooky place. Instead of paying any more heed to my unemployment, my decreasing bank account funds and increasing bills, I have decided to focus my attention on my hands.

Yes, MY HANDS.

Do you know they are one of the first places a woman shows age? Take a gander at Sarah Jessica Parker's paws in recent magazines. They look like the talons of an elderly eagle. I'm not kidding. If they were to just show her hands, you may think (a) they were attached to an 80-year-old woman who once wrestled with a meat grinder; (b) week-old rigatoni left out in the sun; or (c) talons.

Eagle talons.














Seriously. I loves me some SJP, but what the hell happened to her hands?? She could literally paint those bitches yellow, shave her head bald, and call herself endangered.

While my hands have yet to go the way of the raptor, I am going to be keeping close watch on them. Exfoliate, moisturize, protect, repeat.

And watch for a scrawny-ass white girl to come swooping down out of the sky to scoop me up in her giant veiny hands.