Yesterday (Sunday), I spent half a day reading Suzanne Finnamore's The Zygote Chronicles. I love love love Suzanne Finnamore for this! Reading Finnamore's book made me wish my mom was a writer then. Or for that matter, that everyone's mom should have been a writer so that during the period when our moms became pregnant, something great like Finnamore's book would have been written for us to look back on...something for us to really reflect on the moment our humanoid brains finally kick in or even before we make a mess of everything. No matter how disillusioned or embittered you've become, I think you could've easily grown a heart just knowing that your mom made efforts to record her thoughts (we hope not so anti-you) while you were a cutesie yolk up to the day she delivered you out into this world (and the cake would be the day she publishes it into a book, dedicated, no less, to you). Finnamore made me burst into laughter reading passages from her book. Absolutely brilliant! I would kiss her hand when I see her! If she allows me. :)
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