My name is Daria, and I really want to be born.
Don't know if I'm going to be. I've been trying for a while now, but never quite get there.
Sad because I really do want to be born. I'm not sure what it is about life that I expect to be so wonderful,
there's just so MUCH for adult women in Rome to do...not really, but I still want to be born.
Do you think, maybe if I tell you a little bit about me and the existence I have prior to the date I want to be born into it might help?
My creator and her Mum adore the me they've created, and I must say, that's really nice, but so far hasn't helped me get born.
Okay...here's my story. Again, I am Daria, and I live in Rome. In Rome time my birth year is 59 AD.
Nero was the Emperor. I heard he was a really lousy fiddle player. I sort of doubt anyone has the courage to actually tell him that though.
I heard rumors, while eavesdropping on my father's conversations, that Nero is considered a fat pig, but he remained fiddling until I was, I guess about eight.
Personally, I think his enemies, and he had many, killed him. So does my father, but just like everyone thinking he was a lousy fiddler, the cause of Nero's death gets passed on as a whisper.
A couple of pretenders usurped the position of emperor before
Vesapasin took over. For a political head honcho of our time, he lasted a really long time, ten unbelievable years.
My father Ovid is a typical Roman man who happens to be a successful upper crust citizen. He spent a LOT of time posing for this bust. I never understood why. It made him look silly, at least to me.
We live well and have my least favorite things, slaves, but I'm getting ahead of myself.
My mother, like father, is typical for the time. Born to well pocketed parents, she is your average, run-of-the-mill Roman wife. She loves her jewelry, that's for sure, but I think she also loves me.
I am close to her, or as close as family members are allowed to be in Rome of 59 AD and on.
Here's a picture of me with my mother. I'm probably about five maybe six here. Roman's didn't bother with many paintings of the offspring. I think because we are considered more a liability until we get old enough to either become an asset, like selling us into marriage, or a cause for personal prestige...like a son who comports himself well in battle.
I'm a girl...I did mention that didn't I? A future commodity to be sold to the one with the best marriage contract price when the time comes. Would I sound odd if I said I hope that time never comes? I know, I know, a woman's only aspiration is to be a wife and mother. Yep, I am soooo odd!
Somehow I managed to make it to the spinsterly age of 20, and seeing how Roman men treat their women, I am taking great joy in having evaded any one's marital eye. There are obviously advantages to being unusually unattractive looking in Rome.
See what I mean? I just don't look Roman enough I guess.
Anyway, back to my purpose for being here...I have to hurry and finish this. My father has invited some cretin visiting from Pompeii for dinner tonight and I must attend...status and the obedience thing.
So before I am forced to mind myself before this person named...oh, and can you believe the arrogance of this man's parents naming him Titus like he belongs in the same class as Vespasian's son and heir...Great Juno, I really hope I'll be born soon.
Roman fathers can be so ridiculous in naming their male children can't they?
Well there you have my story. I am Daria, and I really want to be born.