it was somewhat amusing in a more literate way. i was sometimes caought in the adventure of Astrid, but was left trailing for the meaningful writing that was not captured thouroughly.
Astrid left from few others foster home. In the end, she concluded positively of all the foster mothers' meaningful impact to her life and has been responsible to shape her to what she has become.
my fav part (i thought is a bless in disguise )pg 459: " all my mothers. like guests at a fairy-tale christening they had bestowed their gifts on me. they were mine now. olivia's generosity, her knowledge of men. claire's tenderness and faith. if not for marvel, how would i penetrated the mysteries of american family? if not for niki, when might i learned to laugh? and yvonne, mi hermosa, you gave me the real mother, the blood mother, that wasn't behind wire, but somewhere inside. rena stole my pride but gave back something more, taught me to salvage, gleam from the wreckage what could be remade and resold.
i carried all of them, sculpted by every hnd i'd passed through, carelessly or lovingly, it didn't matter. amelia ramos, that skunk-streaked bitch, taught me to stand up for myself, beat the bars until i got what i needed. starr tried to kill me, but also bought me my first high heels. who would i give up now? "
Astrid left from few others foster home. In the end, she concluded positively of all the foster mothers' meaningful impact to her life and has been responsible to shape her to what she has become.
my fav part (i thought is a bless in disguise )pg 459: " all my mothers. like guests at a fairy-tale christening they had bestowed their gifts on me. they were mine now. olivia's generosity, her knowledge of men. claire's tenderness and faith. if not for marvel, how would i penetrated the mysteries of american family? if not for niki, when might i learned to laugh? and yvonne, mi hermosa, you gave me the real mother, the blood mother, that wasn't behind wire, but somewhere inside. rena stole my pride but gave back something more, taught me to salvage, gleam from the wreckage what could be remade and resold.
i carried all of them, sculpted by every hnd i'd passed through, carelessly or lovingly, it didn't matter. amelia ramos, that skunk-streaked bitch, taught me to stand up for myself, beat the bars until i got what i needed. starr tried to kill me, but also bought me my first high heels. who would i give up now? "
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