Beauty's not skin deep

If only I was as hot as I think I am. In my mind, I'm a pretty smokin' babe. Somewhere between Sharon Stone (the intensity of her stare) and that chick from Bridget Jones' Diary (the way she exudes sensuality with her pouty 'good girl' look). Periodically, however, I catch a sight of myself in the looking glass and think, that's not what I look like. I mean, I am well presented. I look good. I could stand to lose a few (50) pounds, but even so, I look nice. I take care, most of the time, with my hair and clothes. I wear no make-up or just lip gloss (actually I think it is lip sheen by Mary Kay, I got it from my lovely and wonderful Aunt Linda) and I look great. But not HOT. Not like the image in my mind.

Today for instance, I walked into the bathroom to check myself out. The kids were in the shower, they love the shower and it gives me 20 minutes or so of time plus, they're really clean. But I digress. I walked into the bathroom to check myself out. I turned sideways, sucked in my stomach, arched my back a little, and thought, Not bad. Then I turned to face the mirror and happened to make eye contact with myself, chewing on a scone. It was burned scone, the one that was really burnt that nobody else wanted and so finally after looking at it for two days I started to eat it and then, with a big mouthful, walked in to the bathroom to check myself out, and check on the kids, of course. There I was. I had to breathe and my gut fell out. The sight of it sitting like a loaf of sourdough under my boobs caused my shoulders to hunch and then I looked up to my face and there I was, chewing. So then I just started laughing at how silly I am!

It is like the opposite of what anorexics have. I think I look great. But really I could and should lose some weight and tone up, etc. A friend once told me that my awesome body image is a really great, positive thing. But is it? I mean, is it great to think you are a lot better off than you really are because it makes you feel good? Couldn't this also be described as . . . delusional?

Well, that is certainly a path I choose not to wander down . . . but in the meantime, I wager if I was as hot as I think I am, I'd sure have an emmy by now. I'd use my hotness to do good for the suffering in far away lands and right around the corner, too. I'd be so fabulous in all those party pictures in Vanity Fair.

Wait a minute! I am so fabulous already! Better than an emmy, I am the sun and moon and stars in the sky to my little ones. For now, anyway, and that is my sole reason for being. Oh, right, and my husband too. And our dog. And my business. But you get my drift. Hey, wait another minute. . . . maybe I am as hot as I think I am. They say beauty is skin deep, but not so in my case. It goes way deeper than that. And I'd wager it's the same in your case, too!

Shazamm!