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In lieu of studying, I had an Animated Conversation with my mother about how Third Conjugation Latin Verbs are completely insane. Together with their similarly fucked-up friends, Fourth Conjugation Latin Verbs, they are a bunch of rowdy rakehells out to make life miserable. If I lived in ancient Rome, I said, I would boycott all such verbs-- I would not make, not say, not write, not live.

But my mother characterized them as free spirits, individuals, outsiders, rebels. The lovers, the dreamers, the music-makers. (I don't know where she gets that; those look like First Conjugation activities to me. Amare, somnare, cantare.) They're the Jim Hensons of verbs.

Hrmphh.

Roman women had no identities of their own. They were named after their fathers. Furthermore, they were given their fathers' family names; that would be the equivalent of my parents naming me Phillippa. Imagine if it worked like that today. Kirsten would be Phillippa Minor, I would be Phillippa Major. I would have friends like Franca, Croulia Minor, Jungia Major, Hulihana, Ananda, Tossata Minor, Apella. Man, that'd be stupid.

Why are you in Tavie's head? 2:20 AM | shower me with attention