Over black coffee, baked eggs and strawberry crêpes at my favorite brunch spot one Sunday, three friends and I decided to catch up after almost two years of not seeing each other. Having only met in the fall of 2020 while working together at a nonprofit for seven months, our time apart spanned longer than the entirety of our time together, but we fell back into step as if no time had passed at all. One of them was newly engaged; another, moving out of state; and all of us were fresh out of the gate on new career paths. It was so far from where we had first met each other, as unemployed, administrative hopefuls, during a pandemic, with little to no experience in the field we were, at the time, pursuing.
The Friday prior, I had found myself at a different neighborhood haunt, this time sipping martinis with a college friend whom I hadn’t seen in more than 20 years. After we’d spent two months studying abroad in France and backpacking around Western Europe together, her struggles with substance abuse — and our lack of cell phones — led us to part ways, something which has never sat right with me. You can imagine my delight when we reconnected, all these years later, and I learned she had not only gotten herself through rehabilitation, but had also gone on to achieve her dream of becoming a chiropractor.
While on the surface, all these amazing women seemed to have nothing in common, either with myself or with each other, our shared ability to embrace this very lack of familiarity turned out to be our greatest strength.
I recently had the honor of being a featured industry professional at University of Hawaii at Manoa’s School of Travel Industry Management Student Association event. The level of youthful, hungry energy in the room was nothing less than invigorating, and the questions came from all sides:
“What is the most challenging part of your job?”
“What is your proudest achievement?”
“What is the best advice you can give us if we want to do what you do?”
It was this last question that gave me pause as I recalled the past weekend with my girlfriends, and then I said definitively, “Get comfortable being uncomfortable.”
My sister used to try and describe to me what anxiety felt like, and though I tried, I never could quite understand. It wasn’t until I was myself diagnosed with it that I had to laugh at the irony — this was anxiety? I thought this was normal! A lifetime of constantly accepting jobs for which in no way I felt qualified but desperately wanted to learn, surrounding myself with those whose experience/ intelligence/achievements I thought far outweighed my own, throwing myself into the fire by always starting a new job during the height of the busy season, or in the depth of a crisis — sink or swim was all I’ve ever known. What wasn’t there to be anxious about?
That which drew us together over coffee and martinis after all these years, was the same glue that had sealed our friendship in the first place. Whether moving to a new city, learning a new job, or extracting oneself from a toxic situation in order to seek help, the ability to exist calmly and live deliberately, in a state of discomfort, is perhaps the greatest lesson my girlfriends, and 20 years in this industry has taught me. It is why we kept reaching out for one another long after it had ceased being convenient. Growth and comfort cannot coexist. If I am just as anxious ceasing to grow my knowledge as I am leaping headfirst out of the frying pan, into the flames of a new challenge — then why not? Accepting being uncomfortable meant I could suddenly look beyond the horizon of what I had previously thought was possible, for something that would again challenge me the way backpacking across Europe did, with people who would push me the way my college bestie had. And I am so grateful she is, deliberately, back in my life.
For those of you who, like me, enjoy taking the edge off your daily professional anxiety, but still need to get up at 5:30 the next morning to go to work, may I introduce you to another dear friend of mine, the “50/50 martini.” This lower ABV version of the classic martini offers both complexity of flavor, and a softer, more supple mouthfeel due to the equal parts gin and vermouth — so long as the vermouth comes out of the fridge and not off the shelf. Try dry vermouth for a traditional “50/50”, or white vermouth for a slightly sweeter, more floral variation.
My Summer in France
1.5 ounces Dolin Blanc Vermouth
1.5 ounces Citadelle Jardin d’Ete Gin
Add ingredients to mixing glass. Fill with ice and stir 20-30 revolutions or until spoon drops the bottom of the mixing glass while stirring. Strain into chilled martini glass. Express oil from one lemon peel over top and drop inside glass.
Alicia Yamachika is a bartender and craft mixologist, who currently is the key account manager at Southern Glazer’s Wine & Spirits on Oahu. Follow her on Instagram (@alicia_ yamachika). Her column will appear every second Wednesday in Crave.
