A Haiku
Rich bitch cliques; hollow
and plastic hulled. My envy
eats me from inside...
My former friend,
You are lost, huddled within your want, need for popularity. Popularity? Why? From whom? Others, exact replicas of you.
Suck ups and hangers-on, other privileged and bored housewives who have given up living real lives.
What the world needs now is Barbie, more Barbie. Or so you all think.
You were so real, so regular, so...warm and forthcoming. Beautiful of face, spirit, heart, and nature.
Now?
You talk about nothing...
your dream house that you just bought.
your brand new pool.
your immaculately landscaped lawn.
your brand new hybrid car.
your horseback riding lessons.
your polo matches.
your snot-faced garden parties.
Jazzercise, manicures, pedicures, and shopping.
This is fulfillment?
Where did you go? When did you become a Stepford Barbie?
You don't share your feelings, anymore. Your everyday-ness. Is it lost forever?
Your picture, "You're all jealous of me", sums it up nicely. That is what you strive for, that is what you have. False power.
You've lost the realness that made you lovely.
Now you're plastic and cold, unlovely. I don't want to know you. I'm jealous, so jealous, but I pity you.
You and the Stepford Barbies.
Enjoy your superficiality. I'm sure it will be a comfort to you, someday.
and plastic hulled. My envy
eats me from inside...
My former friend,
You are lost, huddled within your want, need for popularity. Popularity? Why? From whom? Others, exact replicas of you.
Suck ups and hangers-on, other privileged and bored housewives who have given up living real lives.
What the world needs now is Barbie, more Barbie. Or so you all think.
You were so real, so regular, so...warm and forthcoming. Beautiful of face, spirit, heart, and nature.
Now?
You talk about nothing...
your dream house that you just bought.
your brand new pool.
your immaculately landscaped lawn.
your brand new hybrid car.
your horseback riding lessons.
your polo matches.
your snot-faced garden parties.
Jazzercise, manicures, pedicures, and shopping.
This is fulfillment?
Where did you go? When did you become a Stepford Barbie?
You don't share your feelings, anymore. Your everyday-ness. Is it lost forever?
Your picture, "You're all jealous of me", sums it up nicely. That is what you strive for, that is what you have. False power.
You've lost the realness that made you lovely.
Now you're plastic and cold, unlovely. I don't want to know you. I'm jealous, so jealous, but I pity you.
You and the Stepford Barbies.
Enjoy your superficiality. I'm sure it will be a comfort to you, someday.
posted by Maleficent at 12:21 PM
7 Comments:
I now this person, she used to be my friend.
Stepford Barbies. Now there's a thought to send a girl screaming for under the covers. It comforts me that this idea scares me.
Kim, she used to be my friend too. Back when she was a 'regular' person, before she started currying favor with other uppities.
Adair, I feel exactly the same way. Sometimes my envy wars with the extreme relief that I've not fallen into...Barbie-dom.
I know her, too. I think what bothers me most is that she knows I am on the brink of financial disaster and yet she talks about her vacations and her pool and her cleaning ladies and her shopping to me, and becomes pissed if I 'act' as though her life were trivial.
Exactly, Eyre. I'm in the same boat. And I dislike myself for being jealous, but I can't seem to stop the feelings of resentment.
Which is strange, because I know other people who are well-to-do and I don't harbor the same feelings toward them.
In my brief history as a single dad (and being on the market as such), I've had the misfortune of a few first dates (and ONLY first dates) with Stepford Barbies.
I assure all of you, there's nothing to be jealous of, those women lack an essential quality I desire: passion. They are consumed with appearance and material things and all the empty vessels that cry for flowers as they stand unattended around a headstone.
You could park an SUV in their vaccuous selves.
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