I'm at the grocery store this morning and find myself surrounded by seven women my age (in our 40's) gawking at the gorgeous Jennifer Lopez on the cover of People Magazine as the "World's Most Beautiful Woman"...and we all believe she just may be. We all love her. We aren't jealous or bitchy about her beauty. We actually feel inspired by it. Thank God women can age more than gracefully now...ya, it's okay to be sexy in your forties! Go JLo! A mob mentality transpires. We are on her side! We can BE her.
The sound of a scratching LP screeches in my head and stops me dead. Can BE her? We've gone too far.
In reality, none of us can be Jennifer Lopez. We don't have her perfect complexion, those sparkly white teeth, that raw sexiness that exudes from her every pore, her seat next to that love of my life Steven Tyler, her too-firm body for having twins or her ridiculous amounts of money, but I can feel the mob thinking, maybe, just maybe if we worked a little harder, we could have it all....
After leaving the grocery store I felt a little closer to JLo, if only for a minute. Everybody's got a dream.
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