Chapters (77)
- Cover
- Dedication
- 1
- 2
- A Series of Screw-ups: The Chisaki Joan Katsuyama Story, Part I
- 3
- The History of My Beef with Brynn Foer-Preston
- 4
- 5
- 6
- 7
- The History of the Katsuyama Family, Part I
- 8
- 9
- A Brief History of Chisaki Joan Katsuyama’s Romantic Learning Opportunities, Part I
- 10
- 11
- 12
- A Brief History of Chisaki Joan Katsuyama’s Romantic Learning Opportunities, Part II
- 13
- The History of the Katsuyama Family, Part II
- 14
- 15
- 16
- 17
- 18
- 19
- The Complicated History of Chisaki Joan Katsuyama’s Imaginary Relationship with Her Nonexistent Dad
- 20
- 21
- 22
- A Brief History of Chisaki Joan Katsuyama’s Romantic Learning Opportunities, Part III
- 23
- 24
- 25
- A Brief, Backward History of the McAllister Family, as Paraphrased from the San Jose Mercury News
- 26
- 27
- 28
- A Quick and Eerily Relevant History of Asians in America
- 29
- 30
- 31
- 32
- 33
- 34
- 35
- 36
- A Brief History of Chisaki Joan Katsuyama’s Romantic Learning Opportunities, Part IV
- 37
- 38
- 39
- 40
- 41
- 42
- 43
- 44
- A Series of Screw-ups: The Chisaki Joan Katsuyama Story, Part II (Or Maybe It’s a Prequel)
- 45
- 46
- 47
- 48
- 49
- 50
- 51
- 52
- 53
- The History of the Katsuyama Family, Part III
- 54
- A Note from the Author
- Index of Flowers and their Meanings
- Acknowledgments
- About the Author
- Praise for This Time Will Be Different
- Books by Misa Sugiura
- Back Ad
- About the Publisher
It wouldn’t matter, though, because Mom could probably kick a mountain lion’s ass. She does Pilates, lifts weights, and runs practically every day. She has a treadmill in her office at work, and another one in her bedroom; whenever she’s stressed out or upset, she goes in there and runs forever. Plus, she’s just an ass-kicking kind of person—there’s no other way she could have made partner at a place like McAllister Venture Capital.
She’s way ahead of me on the trail when she glances over her shoulder and stops. “Come on, Ceej! You’re young and strong. You should have no problem keeping up with an old lady like me.” She smiles like it’s joke, but I see her fingers tapping impatiently on her hips as I struggle to catch up.
“I’m even not supposed to be awake yet. Young people’s circadian rhythms are different from old ladies like you,” I protest.
“You’ll be glad I got you up when we get to the top.”
“Is there a Starbucks up there? And a magical portal back to my bed?”
“No, but there’s a beautiful sunrise and a sense of accomplishment.”
“Yippee. I can hardly wait.”
“CJ, that attitude is exactly what’s making this difficult for you.”
And just like that—ka-poof!—I feel my actual attitude slide from reluctant-but-jokey to sulky-and-defensive.
“I think the forced march is what’s making this difficult for me.” It’s one last stab at cracking a joke, but I have to admit that I put a little heat on it. Call me rude, but she pulled the attitude card, and I know what’s next.
“I’m not kidding, CJ.” Here it comes. Three, two, one . . . “Attitude is everything. If you don’t get your shit together—if you don’t start developing a vision for your life—you’ll never get anywhere.”
According to Mom, the key to living a Happy and Fulfilling Life is having a killer attitude and a grand vision, and I swear she feels personally attacked by the fact that I have not found either one yet. As if visions were just lying around like Easter eggs and I’ve made it my life’s work to shut my eyes and ignore them. As if all I have to do is get off my lazy ass and part the right clump of grass, peek behind the right stone, and I’ll find a vision waiting for me to pick it up and run with it into a bright and shining future.
Mom grew up on the edge of poverty, and she’s given me much more than she ever had: summer camps, enrichment programs, trips to places like New York City and London. But when it comes to results, well. I know I must be an incredible disappointment to her. On bad days, I wonder if she wishes I’d never been born.