Link catre site original aici.

 
Eight-year-old Virginia O’Hanlon wrote a letter to the editor of New York’s Sun, and the quick response was printed as an unsigned editorial Sept. 21, 1897. The work of veteran newsman Francis Church has since become history’s most reprinted newspaper editorial, appearing in part or whole in dozens of languages in books, movies, and other editorials, and on posters and stamps.
“DEAR EDITOR: I am 8 years old.
“Some of my little friends say there is no Santa Claus.
“Papa says, ‘If you see it in THE SUN it’s so.’
“Please tell me the truth; is there a Santa Claus?
“VIRGINIA O’HANLON.
“115 WEST NINETY-FIFTH STREET.”
VIRGINIA, your little friends are wrong. They have been affected by the skepticism of a skeptical age. They do not believe except [what] they see. They think that nothing can be which is not comprehensible by their little minds. All minds, Virginia, whether they be men’s or children’s, are little. In this great universe of ours man is a mere insect, an ant, in his intellect, as compared with the boundless world about him, as measured by the intelligence capable of grasping the whole of truth and knowledge.

Yes, VIRGINIA, there is a Santa Claus. He exists as certainly as love and generosity and devotion exist, and you know that they abound and give to your life its highest beauty and joy. Alas! how dreary would be the world if there were no Santa Claus. It would be as dreary as if there were no VIRGINIAS. There would be no childlike faith then, no poetry, no romance to make tolerable this existence. We should have no enjoyment, except in sense and sight. The eternal light with which childhood fills the world would be extinguished.

Not believe in Santa Claus! You might as well not believe in fairies! You might get your papa to hire men to watch in all the chimneys on Christmas Eve to catch Santa Claus, but even if they did not see Santa Claus coming down, what would that prove? Nobody sees Santa Claus, but that is no sign that there is no Santa Claus. The most real things in the world are those that neither children nor men can see. Did you ever see fairies dancing on the lawn? Of course not, but that’s no proof that they are not there. Nobody can conceive or imagine all the wonders there are unseen and unseeable in the world.

You may tear apart the baby’s rattle and see what makes the noise inside, but there is a veil covering the unseen world which not the strongest man, nor even the united strength of all the strongest men that ever lived, could tear apart. Only faith, fancy, poetry, love, romance, can push aside that curtain and view and picture the supernal beauty and glory beyond. Is it all real? Ah, VIRGINIA, in all this world there is nothing else real and abiding.

No Santa Claus! Thank God! he lives, and he lives forever. A thousand years from now, Virginia, nay, ten times ten thousand years from now, he will continue to make glad the heart of childhood.

 

Crezul

October 7, 2007

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Evanghelia dupa Frada de pe vremea cand Mugur nu suporta sa fie fotografiat, Irina urma sa se tunda, Sma invata limbi straine si cherie era la fel de mica, cand mancam peanut butter and jelly si nu intelegeam nimic, beam cola si vorbeam la telefon pe holul blocului. Apoi intarziam… oriunde.
Si da-ne noua mauri!

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The simple life of Flo and Mo

September 5, 2007

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Eu anul asta va zic pentru ce suflu in lumanari, sau pentru ce cred acum ca voi sufla in lumanari: eu vreau sa fie simplu. Vreau sa am o viata simpla, nu in sensul de modesta, ci simpla in sensul de what you see is what you get, no games, no double meaning. Simplu ca buna ziua, ca apa pura de izvor si mirosul de dimineata la tara.

Nu vreau sa stau intr-o coliba in varf de munte sa vanez pentru mancare, dar daca se poate ceva de genul asta in mijlocul orasului plus canalizare I’ll take it, thank you!

Acum stiti ce sa-mi luati. Surprindeti-ma cu ambalajul.

[Poza facuta acum cativa ani, undeva pe o vreme ca asta, la un team building Advice. Ni s-a spus sa facem cel mai inalt turn posibil din hartii A4 si scotch. Am stat 10 minute si nu ne-a venit nicio idee fezabila, asa ca am ales sa schimbam cadrul de referinta si gravitatia.
Am asezat hartiile pe jos si am ‘rasturnat’ toata camera astfel incat sa para ca hartiile formeaza un turn care sta in picioare. Am intors mese, scaune, ne-am asezat pe ele si am asteptat sa vina juriul. Au inclinat din cap(la propriu) si da, al nostru a fost mai mare decat al lor. Dar n-au stiut cum sa-l judece, asa ca am luat doar pentru idee originala. In poza eu si Iarina stand, practic, culcate pe jos. Andreea atarna din tavan. Si paharul ala sfideaza gravitatia si sta drept pe o masa culcata lipit fiind cu mult scotch.]

La fel pe dedesubt

June 7, 2007

Sunt unele lucruri care ma fac fericita si variaza de la o tigara pana la o inghetata de ciocolata, de la o rochie frumoasa pana la un weekend reusit, de la o persoana care imi zambeste pana la un Minea care imi trimite un link, asa casually, fara sa-mi spuna ca o sa ma faca happy all day long. Baby, u’re great, multumesc mult! Iti trimit camilute inaripate cale lunga sa te-ajunga, all the way to Hamburger Land!
Asta e video & melodie, you have to, have to, have to watch it!!!

Bright Eyes- At the bottom of everything.

[Si cum Youtube este de astazi mai smecher cand este embeded(probabil de asta a si facut figuri la editare) gasiti in fereastra videoclipului thumbnail cu Bright Eyes- First day of my life, aproape la fel de frumu ca asta. Plimba mouse-ul pe marginea de jos si o sa apara Related, nu te va scoate din blog, se incarca tot acolo. Click and have a fucking great, absolutely fuckin great day!]

Umila mea parere ma face sa mi se para ca se potriveste cu un post mai vechi de-al meu. Goes a little something like this(titulul apartine tot postului vechi, altfel asta s-ar fi numit” Multumesc Minea!” In poza chiar eu, ages ago, in barca pe mare, cu ai mei):

La fel pe dedesubt

Sunt posturi fericite si posturi triste.

Sunt oameni buni si oameni rai, oameni dezamagiti si oameni multumiti, sunt oameni fericiti si oameni acri de suparare sau albastrii de nervi, oameni care plang si oameni care rad in hohote, oameni care iubesc, oameni care urasc si oameni care aleg sa nu mai simta nimic, oameni care vorbesc cu orele la telefon si oameni care refuza sa-si ia mobile, oameni care accepta si oameni care dau, oameni care iau si nu cer nimic, oameni care iau si cer totul, oameni albi, negri, galbeni, oameni care sunt legati si oameni care au dezlegare, oameni care inteleg de ce si oameni care intreaba mereu de ce, oameni care se arunca, oameni care cad si oameni care prind, oameni care sunt raniti si oameni care ranesc, oameni care regreta ca ranesc si oameni care se bucura ca ranesc, oameni mari si oameni mici, oameni mici fizic si oameni mici sufleteste, oameni care vad si oameni care simt, aud, miros. Oameni care citesc cartile si oameni care vad filmele, oameni care tac si oameni care vorbesc, oameni care asculta si oameni care dau sfaturi, oameni care scriu si oameni care citesc printre randuri. Oameni si oameni. Toti copii.

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Call for action

June 1, 2007

Copil nu mai sunt, decat din cand in cand, nici nu sunt prea convinsa ca-mi plac macar copiii mici. Dar astazi m-am trezit la 9(f devreme in context) am facut ochii mici, m-am trezit la Andreea, mi-am amintit ca azi stau acasa, am tipat la ea sa-si ia telefonul din urechea mea, m-am uitat la Tanar si nelinistit ca-n vremurile bune apoi eu am citit ELLE si ea Tara.

Si asa am aflat despre Arthur Verona- cum ca se inchide din nou, cum ca sunt free hugs(decembrie reloaded, proiect preluat si implementat de Oricum) si ca e bataie cu apa. BATAIE CU APA! My God! Deci Arthur Verona ora 18:00 cu PET-uri, cu pistoale cu apa, cu pusti de apa, cu tot ce e nevoie. Eu ma duc la Robert sa-mi iau o pusca competitiva!

Making of

May 18, 2007

Scurt, nu e ciudat ca lumea nu vorbeste pe blog despre familie? Daca tot ne scriem vederile politice pe blog(care la o adica au confidentialitatea strict protejata), daca bloguim despre inimi frante si ne strigam ura fata de barbati sau femei, cum de nu vorbim despre parinti, bunici?

Nu poate fi mai personal decat ultima poveste de amor si sunt parte din noi mai mult decat niste flu-flu-uri zilnice pe care le aruncam cu atata usurinta. La urma urmei ei fac parte din identitatea noastra mai mult decat votul de sambata asta si merita ca povestea sa le fie spusa cu cel putin la fel de mult entuziasm cu care relatam despre orice prostioara care ne ocupa www-ul.

Asadar iata-ma pe mine acum, aici pentru ca ei au fost si au facut ce-au facut atunci.

Mama si tata, la mare jucand petang.
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Pe mama o cheama Vanda Cernat, acum este blonda, still slaba. Lucreaza la Curtea de Apel si pisica mea este die hard fan-ul ei. Mama face cele mai bune eclere pe care le-ai mancat vreodata- GARANTAT(reteta via Angie). Ii place sa iasa la cafele cu gagicile ei si s-a saturat sa poarte tocuri asa ca s-a dat pe balerini. Se plange mereu ca nu are pantofi. E fals. Nu mai fumeaza de ani buni si la capitolul vointa sta foarte bine: si-a inceput facultatea de Drept acum 6-7 ani si a fost mai sarguincioasa decat mine(asta e insa usor). Gazduieste anual Ajunul Craciunului unde-mi vin cam toti prietenii buni- se bea vin fiert, se papa curcan, se face bradul, se asculta colinde si se primesc colindatori.

Tata e Dodo, pe numele din buletin Nicolae Bella Naumovici. Toata lumea ii spune Dodo, mai putin Buna(bunica mea) care ii spune Doru de la Tudor, un nume insa renegat de el. A avut carnet de motor cu zeci de ani inainte sa aiba carnet de masina si la ultima sa zi de nastere a primit de la Bogdan o Yamaha. Needless to say a fost absolut topit. Are si carnet de navigat barci, ba chiar a si construit una. Velier convins. Colectioneaza anticarii, fan al targurilor si podurilor darapanate unde se pot gasi candelabre, sfesnice si samovare.
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Mama si tata sugar sweet. Yes, they are divorced now.
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Unchiul din partea mamei.
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Pete(in buletin Petrica/Peter Cernat, insa since ever ppl call him Pete, bunici inclusiv). Fugit din tara in ’90 alaturi de cel mai bun prieten- Anatol(porecla, foto putin mai jos, baiatul cu ochelari). Escala Franta cativa ani buni, de unde primeam constant dulciuri, jucarii si hainute misto, stabilit acum in Canada, la doar cateva zeci de minute de acelasi cel mai bun prieten. E casatorit cu Betty, 2 copii, fata, baiat. Anatol a emigrat pe acelasi traseu, in paralel. Baiatul sau ii poarta acum legal porecla- Anatol. Si Pete si Anatol senior au fetele mai mari decat baietii. 2 vieti la indigo.

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Pete este pictor, ca si hobby, desi a deschis destul de multe galerii(aici un link), ocupatia de baza este cea de inginer- caci in Romania comunista asta era viitorul. Hipiot convins, arestat pentru ca mergea descult si cules de bunicul meu de prin dube de politie, blugi taiati, Costinesti(un soi de Vama atunci), yoga, free love, nebunii. In poza asta vedeti gravuri cu strabunicii mei(in stanga), tarani din Teleorman, satul Socetu, acum rebranduit Stejaru.
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Bunicii mei din partea mamei: Stana Alexandrina Cernat si Constantin Cernat, cunoscuti de cei apropiati sub numele de Drinel/Drina si Titel.
Stabiliti in Canada. Au facut pe 11 septembrie 2005 nunta de aur. S-au cunoscut in Cismigiu- mamaie venita la liceu in Bucuresti, in gazda, tataie tanar ofiter. S-au luat in cateva saptamani. A venit Pete, apoi mama. Au plecat in Canada de 7 ani si isi ocupa timpul cu cei 2 verisori ai mei: Alexia si Norbert.

Bogdan, aka primul nascut sau my brother from another mother, cum ar spune Will Smith. Spicuire din CV: contributie substantiala la dezvoltatea Leo Burnett si mai recent a idea shop-ului 23 Communication Ideas, impreuna cu Elena L.(the boss). Spicuire din viata de zi cu zi: sursa inepuizabila de povesti- caci daca nu se facea publicitar putea linistit sa fie istoric(eu asociez istoricii cu povestitorii- ei sunt plini de povesti si lucruri interesante) si mai ales povesti din armata. Daca ai fost vreodata scutit la sport e mai bine sa omiti asta din CV. 🙂 In aceasta poza aproape de nerecunoscut.
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Bunicii din partea tatalui: Papu si Buna. Eleonora Bella Naumovici si Petre Bella.

Eu sunt pe jumatate machidoanca, nu stiu insa sa vorbesc armana si cand ne-am intalnit cu rudele din Grecia la o nunta mi-a fost cam greu. Noroc ca si ei sunt mai fluenti in romana decat in oricare alta limba. Pe Papu l-am cunoscut foarte putin, a murit in ’86. Aici e o poza de la Bogdan- Papu, am aflat recent, era aviator de placere. A facut inchisoare pe vremea comunistilor, detinut pentru ca avea 2 buticuri.
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Buna este etalonul familiei in calatorii pentu ca la aproximativ 4 ani isi ia zborul catre Canada, la sora lui tata, Ica(short pt Zaharica). Apoi dupa urmatorii 4 ani zboara inapoi acasa. Nici noi nu ne-am hotarat daca e mai bine cu ea aici sau acolo :), insa nu e drept ca cineva sa manance placinta de praz si cozonacul facut de ea 4 ani consecutiv. Asta clar! Buna este machidoanca si ea, get beget, venita in Romania din Cadrilater dupa anexarea teritoriului la Bulgaria.

Ica si Misha pe numele adevarat Zaharica Bella si Mihai Costea, matusa si unchiul din partea tatalui.
Plecati in Canada de… mult timp. Ana este prima mea verisoara primara si si-a pastrat statutul ani buni. Nu semanam deloc- eu bruneta ea blonda, eu ochi caprui ,ea albastri. Studenta la Medicina, un an mai mare decat mine.

Sa va spun cum de ce cheama pe noi cum ne cheama? In alt episod asta insa. Atat va zic: toti purtam numele strabunicului(in full) datorita unei hibe birocratice. Iar tata si sora sa au nume de familie diferite.

Acest post de familie vi-l urez si voua, eu sper sa mai adaug poze pe aici ca e usor cam golas pe la unele rude.

Postul acesta va fi revizuit si adaugit, este work in progress.

Love is a classic

May 13, 2007

Oricat de mult ai incerca si oricat de simtitor ai vrea sa pari, dragostea, si mai ales declaratiile de dragoste, ajung sa fie corny.

Insa sunt unele lucruri care raman clasice: un “Te iubesc” dimineata, o cerere in casatorie in genunchi, un sarut in Paris, o tigara de dupa, o ea care doarme pe umarul lui, bunicii mei care si-au sarbatorit nunta de aur. Nu mai sunt cheesy, sunt dezarmante, heart-warming, sunt reassuring pentru noi, toti ceilalti, care am zis cel putin o data “Never again” prematur, cu ipocrizie si cu speranta mascata.
Va las cu Neruda, cuz this is the kind of love I’d love.

I don’t love you as if you were salt-rose, or topaz
or the arrows of carnations that fire shoots out:
I love you as certain dark things are loved,
in secret, between the shadow and the soul.

I love you as the plant that never blooms but carries
in itself the light of hidden flowers,
and thanks to your love, lives darkly on my body
the fragrance risen from the earth.

I love you without knowing how, or when, or from where,
I love you simply, without complexities or pride:
I love you because I don’t know no other way of lovingbut this,
in which there is no I or you,
so close that your hand on my chest is my hand,
so close that when you close you eyes I fall asleep.

Pablo Neruda, Sonnet XVII

Versiunea originala

No te amo como si fueras rosa de sal, topacio,
o flecha de claveles que propagan el fuego:
te amo como se aman ciertas cosas oscuras,
secretamente, entre la sombra y el alma.

Te amo como la planta que no florece y lleva dentro de sĂ­, escondida, la luz de aquellas flores,
y gracias a tu amor vive oscuro en mi cuerpo
el apretado aroma que ascendiĂł de la tierra.

Te amo sin saber cómo, ni cuándo, ni de dónde,
te amo directamente sin problemas ni orgullo: así te amo por que no sé amar de otra manera,

sino asĂ­ de este modo en que no soy ni eres,
tan cerca que tu mano sobre mi pecho es mĂ­a,
tan cerca que se cierran tus ojos con mi sueño.

Frumos, nu?

Sent to: All

April 8, 2007

Ladies and Gentlemen of the class of ’04

If I could offer you only one tip for the future, sunscreen would be it. The long term benefits of sunscreen have been proved by scientists whereas the rest of my advice has no basis more reliable than my own meandering experience.

I will dispense this advice now.

Enjoy the power and beauty of your youth. Nevermind. You will not understand the power and beauty of your youth until they have faded. But trust me, in 20 years you’ll look back at photos of yourself and recall in a way you can’t grasp now how much possibility lay before you and how fabulous you really looked.

You’re not as fat as you imagine.

Don’t worry about the future or worry, but know that worrying is as effective as trying to solve an algebra equation by chewing bubblegum.

The real troubles in your life are apt to be things that never crossed your worried mind, the kind that blindside you at 4pm on some idle Tuesday.

Do one thing everyday that scares you.

Sing.

Don’t be reckless with other people’s hearts, don’t put up with people who are reckless with yours.

Floss.

Don’t waste your time on jealousy, sometimes you’re ahead, sometimes you’re behind. The race is long, and in the end, it’s only with yourself.

Remember the compliments you receive, forget the insults. If you succeed in doing this, tell me how.

Keep your old love letters, throw away your old bank statements.

Stretch.

Don’t feel guilty if you don’t know what you want to do with your life. The most interesting people I know didn’t know at 22 what they wanted to do with their lives, some of the most interesting 40 year olds I know still don’t.

Get plenty of calcium.

Be kind to your knees, you’ll miss them when they’re gone.

Maybe you’ll marry, maybe you won’t, maybe you’ll have children,maybe you won’t, maybe you’ll divorce at 40, maybe you’ll dance the funky chicken on your 75th wedding anniversary. What ever you do, don’t congratulate yourself too much or berate yourself either – your choices are half chance, so are everybody else’s.

Enjoy your body, use it every way you can. Don’t be afraid of it, or what other people
think of it, it’s the greatest instrument you’ll ever own.

Dance. Even if you have nowhere to do it but in your own living room.

Read the directions, even if you don’t follow them.

Do NOT read beauty magazines, they will only make you feel ugly.

Get to know your parents, you never know when they’ll be gone for good.

Be nice to your siblings, they are the best link to your past and the people most likely to stick with you in the future.

Understand that friends come and go, but for the precious few you should hold on.

Work hard to bridge the gaps in geography and lifestyle because the older you get, the more you need the people you knew when you were young.

Live in New York City once, but leave before it makes you hard

Live in Northern California once, but leave before it makes you soft.

Travel.

Accept certain inalienable truths, prices will rise, politicians will philander, you too will get old, and when you do you’ll fantasize that when you were young prices were reasonable, politicians were noble and children respected their elders. Respect your elders.

Don’t expect anyone else to support you. Maybe you have a trust fund, maybe you have a wealthy spouse but you never know when either one might run out.

Don’t mess too much with your hair, or by the time you’re 40, it will look 85.

Be careful whose advice you buy, but, be patient with those who supply it. Advice is a form of nostalgia, dispensing it is a way of fishing the past from the disposal, wiping it off, painting over the ugly parts and recycling it for more than it’s worth.

But trust me on the sunscreen.