We Have Frida

On my way to the bank this morning, I saw a bumper sticker that read:


I want to be Barbie.
The Bitch has everything.


Really? 


Sure, the girl's had every career under the sun;
Dr. Barbie, Pilot Barbie, Cheerleading Barbie, CEO Barbie, and of course, Malibu Barbie. She can put her legs over her head like nobody's business. Is there a Yogi Barbie?


Two times I had an inkling of what it was like to have boobs like Barbie. Okay, so I had to get pregnant and nurse my babies to keep up the facade. It was a temporary thrill. Barbie's boobs, on the other hand, are built to withstand gravity. Sure, she has all those cars, mansions, Ken. But does that make her a bitch? 


It hadn't crossed my mind until I saw the bumper sticker, but do you think she's been happy all these years? So many career changes, so many new looks? The same boyfriend like forever. Seems like a lot of pressure. With that smile it's hard to tell how she's really feeling.


Our band of Barbies moved out years ago. These days, we have Frida; artist, light and dark, flamboyant dresser, truth-teller. Yes, I mean that Frida. Frida Kahlo of the famous uni-brow.  


Frida's life was difficult in many ways. She could never do the thing with her legs like Barbie, especially after her terrible accident. She often lived her artist life confined to her bed. Still, Frida thrived. 


Frida painted her life for us; 


eyes wide open
blood
thorns 
bleeding hearts
monkeys
parrots
passion


love.