I’m writing this from my sister’s apartment in DC. Mom and I decided to take some well deserved time to visit and attend her awards ceremony to commemorate her academic prowess that led to a scholarship for her current academic term. Even though some of her current demeanor is linked to the stress that ever student goes through during exams, she was always a lauded drama queen and terrible actress. She is doing a piss-poor job of hiding the fact that our being in her abode is an invasion of privacy and maybe the glory of having us watching her success won’t offset that once we’re back in Toronto. I’m just calling it like it is.
Earlier today, we did some shopping as a family and then I took off for Pentagon City in Virginia. The transit infrastructure is pretty impressive; reminiscent of New York. Red track, yellow track, blue and orange – all of them converged around Metro Center or some central core of the city. I was able to find my way around rather quickly. I lost all track of time and managed to withstant 6 hours of travel, shopping and self-guided entertainment. It was quite an adventure to get here as well – correction – more comic relief than adventure. My mother is in great health, but she has as much steely nerve as a toothpick between the pecks of Mr. Universe – just a mess. Prior to going through customs in Canada, I made sure she practiced Shara’s destination so we wouldn’t get held up. Right before we were scheduled to hand in our customs card, two guards looked on, smiling as we approached. I urged my mother to give them the card – both gentlemen, mid 50s – one white, one asian or a mix of both smiled at my mother. As the white guard gestured to take the card, he says “well ma’am, just you and your dad today, travelling?”. You could hear the gears turning while my mother quickly said, “no he’s my son,” which was followed by raucous laughter when she realized what they meant. Dare I also forget that once we were poised to transfer flights, an asian lady ran my boarding pass through the system, looking at me like as if I was a single bolt that she fits onto the nut that she owns in an assembly line, picks up her head and went there…”oh my – that name Chang sounds chinese”. Clearly I was bound for the eject bin. My mother looked back and was close enough to hear me belt out “yes, and from what I recall, I wasn’t given the choice”. Good times.
When I was at the bookstore about a week and a half ago, I picked up another art book (about the 3rd I’ve purchased in the past week…the significance will be apparent before my actual birthday) and another Toni Morrison novel, Love. I read Love on the flight from Chicago to Washington and could not put it down. I read half the book in one sitting. The novel’s title bares no correlation to my personalife now; get beyond the title (yes, I’m calling out the secret readers and subscribers to this blog who really have no real interest in Adrian Chang). I’m reading the book out of pure interest for Toni’s work, plus I remember what happened the last time I read one of her novels back in 2002. Summer of 2002, I was on my futon with the dolphin blanket, in the empty apartment, eyes glued to Paradise. It took me 3 tries previously to get through that book, but I was able to work my way through it. Worth the read, and little did I know that I would credit that book for enabling me to understand how to put the events of the next few months into context.
Heading into this year’s CGO – I really hope that my performance is up to snuff. I’m a much better player than I was last year. Admittedly I’m not moving as well, or in peak condition, but I intend to really get focused in the next few weeks to ensure I can withstand the demands of a weekend long tennis tournament. My ground game is killer right now, the best that is has ever been. Everything I do between now and May 17th will be centered around killing the competition. Detroit gave me a taste of victory and it’s one that I hope I never forget. I have to work on improving my speed, flexibility and my racquet head speed. My workouts to date have countered those goals – I’m going to have to put vanity aside for a moment and focus on tennis. I was so hungry and determined after I bowed out of the singles event. I can’t wait. Unfortunately, I’m missing out on a weekend with the boys in Port Bruce – I’m gravely going to miss them, however there will be other weekends and above all over romances, obsessions, and desires, I have one first love–and that’s tennis.
That’s all for now.