For those of you who have not had the pleasure, allow me to introduce you to one of my favorite friends, the delectable Ms. Miranda Drost.
Miranda and I have been on a simultaneous long-time quest to become the “Coolest Women Alive.” We are continually congratulating each other on our moves of bad-assery, from excellent haircuts to simply telling it like it is. She is the only person I know who walks as fast as I do – a 6 mile lap around Lake Union? An hour and twenty minutes, tops. Many a time, she has come to my rescue when I have been drowning in tears and red wine. We are each other’s cheering squad, fan club, and “cooler than a boyfriend” companion. She makes strong Mojitos (my hero), drives a Mazda 3 (double-hero), and has bitch-slapped a lecher at the Matador (cue the confetti). I recommended my financial advisor to her, and in turn, she convinced me that a bikini wax was worth a try. What are friends for, anyway?
Miranda once asked me, “Between the two of us, who would be Oprah, and who would be Gayle?” I answered immediately: “I would be Gayle. You are definitely Oprah.” Miranda has always struck me as the go-getter, the hot verbal genius slaying all the men, the charismatic wise one who belongs in the spotlight; I am content to be the trusty sidekick. So you can imagine my surprise when she responded, “NO! YOU would be Oprah – I’m just the tag-along friend.”
What? Are you serious? I have never thought of myself as a star, and if given the opportunity, will always choose to be the flower against the wall as opposed to the girl center stage. For crying out loud, why else would I want to be a backup singer?
But you know, in the dazzling unremarkable film “The Holiday,” Iris says, “You’re supposed to be the leading lady in your own life.” And in a way, I think she’s right – we are only given our own lives, and our own selves. This is it. This is what I have been given, and this is what I have. I should wholeheartedly pursue the passions of my heart, and open my eyes to the everyday gifts that surround me… without comparing myself to others, and without hiding behind insecurity. I, as Annie, am not perfect… but I do have good things to offer. And I’m always going to be a better “me” than anyone else.
But Miranda would still be Oprah. :)