The S.S.I. Files

   S.S.I – Santa’s Secret Identity. I came up with this organization to keep my secret identity safe, my real one I mean, not the one that shares toys to good kids and coal pieces to naughty children. Yeah, I know, the name kind of sucks, but what am I? The Fairy Godmother? I’m Santa Claus, for crying out loud!!!

   If my identity is, by and chance, “accidentally” revealed, I will be a sure-target for all my enemies! That’s right, I mean you, Jack Frost! Yeah, I remember that Christmas when you accidentally “forgot” that I’m allergic to muffins. I nearly missed Christmas Eve! All of those kids to whom I didn’t make it with the toys, the sad looks on their tiny little faces….your fault! You frozen hair-ball!!!

   Well, yeah, my secret identity is pretty cool, and special…I mean, it’s not like I was a super-secret, ultra-cool, super-sophisticated, advanced, technology-genius, international spy… But still, my work is pretty exciting….the real one I mean, not the one in which I go around dressed in a puffy red suit, wearing some crazy beard and sharing toys and sweets… No, that’s just the cover-up…

    Have I mentioned that I own a super advanced Ferrari sled, and that I have the latest technology in the toy making world, and that I am the dream of many Misses Claus….(es)?!?

    Yes, yes, I know, you wish you were me, but I tell you, it’s a very stressing and tiring job… I mean, just imagine…instead of spending my Saturdays at home as and happy, careless, job-less bachelor would do, I am out there, making sure Rudolph doesn’t go crazy again, and that Bush doesn’t take revenge on the planet’s tropical forests again because he didn’t get the type of toy bazooka he wanted for Christmas… Trust me, it’s very stressing and not to mention demanding.

    All that running after villains, mountain-climbing, even the thinking makes your brain sore…

    But after all, even though I would like a nice day at home, a quiet life, a family of my own, with a lovely Miss Claus to wait for me when I come home from the toy factory, a white picket fence, two children and a playful puppy jumping in the front yard… I have to move on , and let go of all the dreams, because I …AM… SANTA …..!

    “Hey! Quit yer yappin’ and take out the trash! And take off those curtains…As much as you’d like to be, you’re not Superman, so get off the table, and try acting like a normal adult! And try running a bit, your stomach looks like a beach ball, I’m surprised you can still see yer toes! And do something about that beard, it’s over grown! Can’t you just stay put???…I married a loser!…And get off that box! My good porcelain is in that!”

    “Yes, dear…”

     Ah, well, you get the point…

Judging a Book by Its Cover

 

You can’t just go around saying you think someone’s happy just because they decided to dress in yellow today, when in fact they’re downright sad and depressed. Or you can’t really affirm that a person’s downright depressed, melancholic and that he/she is mad at the world because they decide to go all-black once in a while. There’s a ninety percent chance that they might actually think black flatters their figure. Whether that is or isn’t true, I will not discuss.

 Back to our subject. Some of the readers might think that you can tell what a person’s like by the color of the clothes. NOT true. You can’t decide what that individual is like during his everyday life when you’ve only seen him once, and that one time you caught a glimpse of him he happened to be wearing pink (the individual, in this case, is a him). He might, but just might not have a strange…um…orientation, if you know what I mean. Now that we’ve cleared that up, let’s move on to the next point!

I have a personal example for this one, and it’s good, though not truly…true (what, an aspiring writer can’t add some spice to the text once in a while?). I was standing next to Starbucks (okay, okay…it was McDonalds…are you satisfied NOW?!?), and I saw this girl. She was wearing a pair of dark-wash denims, black Chuck Taylors, a deep red blouse and black jacket. Her hair was covering one of her eyes and she was wearing …well, that’s a surprise…black eyeliner… In any case, dark and punk-rock looking…I stared somewhere else, and then a phone rang. The ring tone was a (I will use the popular, widely known name) manea. That didn’t startle me at all, and as much as I love to daydream about being in New York, I remembered I was in Romania. I turned around, wanting to glare at the person’s whose cell rang, and this time I was amazed to see it was the rockers’ phone! What the hell? …Speaking about the “Land of All Possibilities”.

So there you have it! I thought she was a tough punker, and she was in fact a stupid, giggle-ish chick. I was wrong, and I decided to never judge people by the way they look or dress. Never. Ever.

 Or, I was dressed up in my sports outfit, because I happened to have P.E. and dance class in two consecutive school days. And this girl from dance said she thought I must be a really outdoorsy type because I dressed up in track suits all the time. Double mistake! I stink at most sports, though I do my best in P.E., and I only dressed in my gym outfit in two consecutive days one time! It was a freaking coincidence… It only happened once, for crying out loud!!! Stupid, useless…two-consecutive-day-sports-classes.

 Oh, here’s another example! Someone might come to school wearing suits or plaid skirts and vests, and you could think they’re just so responsible and serious. Maybe their mom dresses them up, so don’t be too quick drawing conclusions!…Who knows what pot they smoke behind bushes and trees?…

 So, thinking that you can guess a person’s character by their way of dressing up is dumb, irrational and silly. Don’t do it, or at least stop doing it if you were stupid enough to believe you can. ‘Cause you can’t.

 Try to act normal once in a while, and not like some psychopath maniac, and don’t ever try to think you can know what someone’s like by their clothes, or that you can predict the future by reading in animal intestines. And so what if Britney decided to go to the Grammy Awards wearing a super-mini, super-tight dress? That doesn’t mean she’s an “easygoing” woman. Leave Britney alone! She’s only a human! Leave her alone!!!…

WHY I TRUST MY RAGS

Well, I could, of course, start stating the reasons for which this topic may seem fairly stupid, but instead of writing critics addressed to the one who thought of the subject, I’m going to take it on as a new challenge, because I wouldn’t want my mind to start rusting along the edges, would I?

 The fashion industry nowadays is very harsh on celebrities that don’t wear the latest trends, on stars at movie premiers that don’t take on the newest, hottest looks or even on politicians that can’t tell one tie from another! But, let’s all be serious for once, shall we? I mean, who in the world would possibly want to go to a live interview, after they’ve worked all day and night on a filming set, wearing a brand new and uncomfortable pair of high-heeled sandals, that are just way too arrogant to take the least bit of advice from their elder ones, and that keep making you trip with their lack of experience in the Walking World!

  Or who would want to hold a speech in front of an audience, while wearing a short, flowing skirt, that is way too independent, taking on a life of it’s own, tossing and flipping, and making the public pay more attention to it’s frilly edges, than to its’ owner’s words! The “young and restless” just don’t have anymore respect these days!

The advantage of choosing to wear an old sweater rather than some frilly, too tight shirt is that you can confide more into your old and reliable wool friend, than into the young, silky blouse, that just can’t wait to tell her mini-skirt friends the latest buzz she’s heard! You just cannot and will never rely on such a spoiled brat!

 Or think about the day when your supposedly best friend gave you as a birthday present, the cutest pair of rhinestone decorated high-heels! You thought it was so thoughtful of her, and always kept the shoes near you! But that was until your faithful and wise five year-old hiking boots figured out that something was just not right, and that you’re new “companions” had been waiting for just the right moment when you felt too sad and mad at the world, and confided in them with secrets and other such things, so that they could then run off to your supposedly-best friend and brag all your private stuff to her! Some high-heels! Hm!

 And how about your old raincoat, with a very long wearing experience? She ought to be a lot better, scruffy as she is, than that little monster of a fur coat!

 Just stick to this simple law: What’s beautiful on the outside isn’t always nice on the inside too!

Now, where’s that shabby old scarf of mine…I feel like telling some secrets to someone…..

O ADOLESCENTA RAZVRATITA

Ma doare-n cot de tine, Cartarescule! Am fost si eu mica! Si chiar mai mica decat tine!  Am citit destule basme ca sa pot scrie o enciclopedie a zmeilor! Si am citit si cartea ta. Ce sa zic, exemplare de zmei suri de vagauna vezi peste tot! Nu trebuie sa faci cine stie ce cercetari! Plus ca eu am cunostinte care sunt zmei! Dar nu orice fel de zmei! Ci zmeii zmeilor! Si speciile sunt foarte variate! De la zmeul Mare si Tare (desigur, asta doar in inchipuirea lui), la zmeul Guvernicus, zmeul 4×4, zmeul Falsificus, zmeul Villicus si alti zmei si zmeisori!

Guvernicus are pielea solzoasa, umeda si corpul ii este precum o minge de plaja supra-umflata! Este foarte activ cand simte mirosul inconfundabil al aurului! Desigur, aurul nu se gaseste ca pe vremuri, pe ici pe colo, ci este in proprietatea unor alti zmei mai mici! De aceea Guvernicus ii prefera pe acestia ca fel principal la cina! Pofta buna!

 Zmeul 4×4 se deplaseaza in orice conditii, mai ales nefavorabile(pentru ceilalti zmei)! Atunci cand ploua, zmeul 4×4 obtine un bonus de stil, trecand pe zebra si stropind toti voinicii cu noroi! Zmeul 4×4 este de obicei insurat cu o zmeoaica Villicus! Zmeoaica Villicus are ca trasaturi principale ghearele aranjate, limba ascutita, ochii dati cu rimel pana la refuz! Cei doi locuiesc intr-o cetate cu cinci etaje, lift(pentru ca zmeoaica nu poate risca sa-si rupa vreo gheara urcand scarile), piscina interioara, jacuzzi, televizor cu ecran plat si sistem Home Cinema si o armata de voinici slujitori! Progeniturile lor, ca in fiecare familie, le calca pe urme mandrilor parinti, si inca de la o varsta frageda, dau dovada de super-calitati!

Zmeul Falsificus are mai multe capete! Chiar daca voinicul de la Fisc ii taie un cap, ii cresc alte doua in loc! Unul din ele este zambitor si cumsecade, si celalalt, malefic si vicios! Zmeii Falsificus depun multe oua(de aur)! De aceea se inmultesc ca ciupercile dupa ploaie! Aceasta specie de zmeu este si cea mai raspandita!

Zmeul Mare si Tare este, bineinteles, cel mai mare si cel mai tare dintre toti zmeii! El este venerat din toate partile, toti ii aduc ofrande, si-l canta in poezie…etc……Ca ne-am cam saturat de laudaroseniile lui!

 Dar intr-o zi, o zi neagra pentru poporul zmeiesc, veni voinicul UE si cu palosul legii, le reteza capul! Si, domnule Cartarescu, orice tentativa de plagiat va fi pedepsita chiar de Zmeul Zmeilor!

~ ACEASTA trebusoara a fost scrisa de moi, Anton Mihaela Alexandra, la varsta de 12 ani (acum crescuta la 15); am zis sa insir si detaliile acestea in caz ca domnul Mircea Cartarescu, nimerind prin coclaurii blogului meu, ca din intamplare, ar dori o reglare de conturi.

WHAT TIME IS IT?

Time to throw a few heaps of money (which, FYI, Mr. Mayor, this country doesn’t have) out the window! 

It’s not my style to write articles about economy, politics and others of this kind, but after I saw a certain material on the news broadcast yesterday morning, I just couldn’t help myself from saying (well, writing…) what I think about it, even though people may not pay attention or care enough to read this entry.

What do you think about the fact that…after receiving a full frontal blow from the “Economic Crisis”, the mayor of Bucharest can’t find any other thing to concentrate and put his effort and money into rather than having 20 brand-new mini-clock towers installed all over the capital city? Oh, but I’m talking claptrap here…it’s not like he’s even contributing to the budget for these unnecessary installments, it’s public money, our parents’ and relatives’ money that are being flushed down the toilet to buy stupid tick-tockers rather than be used for paying salaries, pensions, health insurances, things people really need. But, hell no! Surely, getting new clocks, beating mind-boggling records such as ‘World’s Longest Sausage’, ‘World’s Biggest Gathering of Santa-Claus Replicas’ and ‘World’s Largest Pancake’ are problems infinitely more important than all that doodley-doo nonsense I had the nerve to list above (in bold, too!).

A single clock of that kind costs 25.000 euros. Wanna know why? Because their stupid, damned clock arms are going to be golden. Golden digits! Golden! And, here comes the bomb, the darn machines are going to…sing. They’ll be singing traditional music and folk (most our folk being a weak-in-the-knees version of country music) and Christmas carols and ‘manele’.Oh, I’m itching to go to the park and watch 60-70 year old hum and shake their canes to songs such as “Fara numar” or “Suna telefoanele”(the only two ‘manea’ titles I know, thanks to some extremely considerate school buds)…People of other nationalities, the only translation you’ll be needing of those titles is “CRAP”.

The only conclusion I have to all this, is…what does a baldie need? Well, a diamond-studded hat, of course! (oh, yeah and…”Time is money”)

About Alexa M. Anton

       As the above title specifies, this entry is written with the purpose of creating a brief introduction of Alexa M. Anton and her work.

       Alexa M. Anton has begun her activity as a fervent blogger in the autumn of 2008. After posting one small, weak-in-the-knees entry on bloggerul.ro, just because she was too lazy to work on anything more intricate, she ditched the blogging world (gasp!). Exactly one year after her first post, Alexa decided to give a sign of life and repost. She didn’t post only one entry, but 17!!! (or more…my memory is, once again, playing tricks on me) All of the specified entries could have been viewed if the careless Alexa wouldn’t have lost the damned password to her blog, thus having the impacient blog managers delete the entire content of her precious ‘Pandora’s Blog’.

      Nonetheless,  Alexa M. Anton has found a welcoming home here at wordpress.com  and will be sure to repost everything she ever blogged.

      Alexa M. Anton writes on almost any topic, being sure to use bucket-fulls of sarcasm, irony and humor…Be sure to stay posted!