In September of 2024, one of my best friends, Allison, asked me if I’d want to join her for her presentation at the Joint Mathematics Meetings in Seattle, Washington, over winter break.
I’ve always loved grunge music which was started in Seattle, so despite my nearly negative bank account and paralyzing fear of flying, the answer was immediately yes.
Then January grew closer, and I realized that I’d never flown farther than Florida, that I’d never flown without my mom, that I’d never been to the West Coast and that I don’t really know how to read a map. And I hated myself for not paying the extra $30 for a refundable ticket. I was stuck.
The day before we were supposed to leave, when I came to sit at my kitchen island with Chick-fil-A for me and my stepdad Jarrod, I confessed how nervous I was. Jarrod flies all around the country for work and has been to nearly every state, so he was just the person to talk me down.
He went into his office and brought out this little trinket called a worry stone. On the back of its packaging, it read, “There are only two things to worry about: either you are well or you are sick. If you are well, there is nothing to worry about: but if you are sick: there are two things for you to worry about: either you will get well or you will die. If you get well, then there is nothing to worry about. If you die: there are two things to worry about: either you go up or down. If you go up, then there is nothing to worry about. But if you go down you will be so busy shaking hands with old friends you won’t have time to worry.”
It was pretty comforting. Cause it’s true: if you die, you’re dead. If you live, you’re alive. There’s really no in between.
So I dragged myself to John F. Kennedy International Airport at four o’clock in the morning with the worry stone in my purse. I got on that plane, and I made it to Seattle in one piece.
We spent a week exploring, meeting locals, eating good food and having the best luck imaginable. We’ve come to the conclusion that Allison has some type of luck in her because things just went a little too good during the trip. Especially on our last day.
Somehow, some way, Allison managed to finagle us five free tickets to the Space Needle which would usually cost around $250 total. It was one of the most ethereal experiences of my life. We went during sunset and watched the sky turn orange and pink with a view of the whole city – everything about it was perfect.
We then decided to take the monorail back to our hotel, which was right on Pike Place Market. Allison began a conversation with the conductor, who was from Croatia and had a pretty sick mustache. We sat in the back and then arrived back at the station. On our way out, Allison raved about how much better it was than the subways in New York City, and he said, “Ya know, I was gonna let you guys ride up front but I couldn’t find you.”
Then, he offered us a free ride back to the Space Needle and then straight back to the station on Pike Place. We all sat up front, and he let us honk the horn and told us his life story. It was awesome.
Throughout the day, Allison had been calling this restaurant, the Pink Door, which is apparently like the Rao’s of Seattle – it’s impossible to get into. She called them probably six times throughout the day to no avail. We ended up getting reservations at some random place, and then Allison said, “What if we just walk into the Pink Door and see what happens?” So, we did. And what do you know, they just so happened to magically have a table for five. On top of that, they just so happened to have a pop-up aerial dancer that night.
Allison made conversation with a couple that were sitting to our left and they were some of the nicest people I’ve ever met. They said they were waiting nine months to get into the Pink Door and couldn’t believe we got in so fast. To maintain some level of confidentiality, I won’t give specifics, but the woman shared she was a big wig at a very exclusive technology company. She asked for our information, and then offered us a tour of her company if we could stay longer. We all exchanged glances that said, “Do we extend our trip?”
On the couples’ way out, our waitress leaned in and told us the couple paid for our entire check, which was definitely not cheap. They said that we were so inspirational and that they hoped their daughters were just like us at our age. We were nearly in tears.
So, all in all, as much as I hate to say it, Jarrod was right. And he got to say, “I told you so, there was nothing to be worried about.” It kind of changed my entire outlook on life. Anxiety has as much power over you as you let it have. And really, what’s the worst that could happen?
