TipsyLit Guest Post!

Hi Peoples!

It has been a while, and my apologies, really, for not taking the time to really hunker down and put out some quality rambles from my mind.

But, I did get the opportunity to guest post on the lovely TipsyLit blog, and I would love you all to head over and check it out, share it, like it, love it, hate it, etc.

It’s a modern day retelling of Are you there, God? It’s me, Margaret.  It’s puh-rih-tay funky.

Happy reading!

Are you there, God?  It’s me, Meg.

xoxo, Pete 🙂

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Second Chances

I’ve started the practice of writing in a diary, ahem excuse me, a journal, a few times in my life. Well, more than a few. I rifled through some boxes of old stuff from my room recently and this was wholeheartedly confirmed by the stack of nearly empty journals I uncovered. It appears that historically I’m not too good about giving my journals the attention they deserve. It also seems that with each return to a journal, or at the beginning of a new one, I felt the need to explain why I’d been gone for so long, or what my intentions for this particular journal were going to be.

When beginning this blog adventure with Postmaster Pete, I probably should have realized that my journaling track record might prove threatening to my blogging success. However, like most of my starry-eyed journal dreams of yore, I thought this time it would be different.

I was wrong. Grad school started, I got overwhelmed, and I found myself reading Pete’s posts as if they were part of a blog I followed as an outsider, not one I was supposed to be co-authoring. And for that I am sorry, ’cause it’s a bummer. Now, I’m not trying to be a downer, we all know that’s not what P&J is about.  But I did want to address the elephant in the…er…on the blog before proceeding. Seems my habit of setting the record straight has stuck too.

With all that being said, I’m back baby. And better than ever. You know why? Because just like the Biggest Loser, I believe in SECOND CHANCES. And I think you guys do too.

second chances

Just in case you need a little convincing, might I remind you of our great nation’s 22nd and 24th president? No, that was not a plural slip-up sir, for they are the same man. President Grover Cleveland, the only president to be elected on two non-consecutive occasions. Please sir, can I have some more? You betchya, Grov, you politicking sonofabitch.

GC

Or how about Betty White? Girlfriend got a Guinness World Record for being the female television actress with the longest running career. Sure, there was a decent gap after Golden Girls, but this lady made a comeback that would have even left Sophia speechless. You know why? Second chances.

young bettygolden girlsbetty white SNL

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Ah, no one can argue with this one. Overalls. Need I say more? Yea, we all complained when our mom got us four new pairs of overalls at the beginning of the school year. “The straps fall in the toilet when I go to the bathroom!”, we’d say, but no. They were one whole outfit conveniently created by a single large piece of denim, and your pants always stayed on. Child nightmare, parent miracle. But wait! They’re cool again! Look at this sassy high fashion chick wearing Forever 21 overalls! Girlfriend looks fierce. Overalls, the great return. Second chances man, they’re game changers.

So here’s to cracking that journal back open, putting pen to paper, and hoping years down the road, someone reads what you wrote and totally gets what you were going through. Cause come on, you know that’s totally what you were hoping for.

If it weren’t for second chances, we’d all be alone. Gregory Alan Isakov

Thanks for keeping me company kids.

xoxo Jobin

New Beginnings.

Sometimes you are given opportunities.  Sometimes you have to take them.

I got an opportunity through my job to do something great, so I’ve decided to try and further my career by starting a personal blog alongside this one.

If you find it in your heart and soul to not get enough of us for one blog, please feel free to head on over for a double dose of awesome by checking out:

24 Problems

As always, we are committed to bringing you the very top amount possible of sarcasm and non-thought out rambles, and will continue to do so!

Respectfully yours,

Pete

Please Don’t Play Tag. It’s Just Too Dangerous.

Do you ever just read something in the news that is so outrageous it makes you stop and question humanity as a whole?

Well, that happened to me. Because I found out that elementary schools are deciding to ban the classic game of slap and run away, Tag.  Shock. Horror. Confusion.  All these things. Plus hunger. But that’s a different story.

I know, I know, I’ll give you a moment to grieve… Okay, moment over.

If you haven’t read my previous posts, you should know that I got hurt quite a bit as a child.  From my brothers’ secret attacks, to a tree and bike collision, my childhood was far from band-aid and emergency room free.

But I like to think that despite all the cuts, bruises, and broken bones, I turned out to be a socially capable adult and functioning member of society (Please refrain from further investigating that statement).

I also like to think that playing (physical) games during recess in elementary and middle school are crucial to cognitively developing social skills with other people.  How is a kid going to grow up knowing he wants to play football if he never gets the chance to play it during school?  How is a child supposed to know what defeat is if everyone gets a trophy and there are no losers?

Newsflash:  The world is full of football and defeat. Life is tough, to ignore it is preposterous, and to ban it is blasphemous (big word usage, +100 points). Get a helmet and go back out there.

This one is about a trip down memory lane and paying tribute to the fallen soldiers of the recess game world.

Let’s take a look at the games considered too dangerous but I played them and turned out fine:

Red Rover: Ahh, Red Rover, Red Rover, send Pete on over! The classic game of death grips and running full speed ahead at the weakest pair in the line.  This is a game of strategy for both teams.  So while you’re over there picking the weakest kid on the opposing squad to run through your child chain linked fence, he or she is over there plotting the same revenge to be extracted.  And is there a better feeling than breaking through an elementary arm grip?  I don’t think so.

**Redeeming Value: Learn how to shake a hand.  Have you ever shook someone’s hand and it was like holding a dead fish?  Prescribe that kid a game of red rover and he or she will have the firmest handshake in town.

Tetherball: I’ll be honest.  I made my mom put a tether ball up on a tree in my front yard so I could practice daily.  There were lines out the playground to get a piece of the tether ball champion at recess.  The best was the momentum, once you got it, there was no stopping – and hearing the chain that connected the ball to the rope hit the pole to end the game was nothing short of a magical experience.  Short kids shouldn’t play this game. It’ll be an uphill battle from day one.  Sorry.

**Redeeming Value: Hand-Eye coordination.

Butts Up: Fifth grade aim is mediocre at best. Plus, if you were a girl lucky enough to survive three rounds of this game – you were pretty much guaranteed a prom date by age seven.

**Redeeming Value: Obtaining a prom date earlier than everyone else.  Avoiding that type of stress is seriously encouraged.

Freeze Tag: Survival of the Fittest.  Run or be frozen.  Don’t know how you can take that away from a kid. If you were the only kid to escape freeze tag without becoming a statue?  You’re a legend, and definitely a future Olympian.

**Redeeming Value:  Learn to be a statue.  If you’re good at freezing, you’re probably good at being one of those guards in front of the royal palace who don’t move at all. Or you could become a gargoyle or a garden gnome, depending on your level of ambition.

Dodgeball:  What were balls made for if not for dodging?  Get over yourself.  If you’re out, sit down. Hopefully there’s an athletic Joe out there who can catch a ball and you can learn how to shadow the good kids and not get out on the first throw.  If you don’t have athleticism, use your brain. Making the star baseball player become a human wall for you is probably the best advice I will ever give.

**Redeeming Value: Learning to sneak under the radar.  Shadowing the best player on the team will ensure you that you will at least not be the first one out, thus you’ve removed the brand on your face that says you suck at throwing and catching. CHA-CHING.

Rest In Peace, Recess Games.  You were always there when I needed an ego boost or stress relief.  Hope you’re up in activity heaven just hamming it up with banned books and platonic hugs from inspirational teachers.  There is now a thirty minute play period in schools where kids just kinda sit down and stare at things.  It’s apparently way more fun and a lot more safe.

PS – I challenge anyone to a game of tetherball. Anyone 5’4 and over 160lbs with extreme athleticism need not inquire.

The Completely True Story of Christmas.

I want to start this off by saying I have done a negative amount of shopping for anyone other than myself this holiday season, but fully intend to win Christmas with the amazingness of all the presents I haven’t bought yet.

If you don’t know the story of Christmas, you can read about it here. Oh, and welcome to the twenty-first century, by the way, how was living under that rock for the past… forever?

Reflecting on all the things we do to get ready for the holidays, I couldn’t help but realize how most of it is kinda… weird.  It got me thinking about how it all started.  Thus, I present to you: How Christmas Probably Happened. But Actually Probably Not Really. 

Many moons ago, this kid was born. And he was born in like, kinda not a normal way, because he just appeared in this lady, Mary’s belly.  She was married to this really chill dude named Joe, and I guess they had an extra bedroom and no idea what to use it for, so naturally, a baby will solve that problem!

But Baby Jeezy wasn’t an ordinary baby. Because that would be silly.  Seeing as he just kinda picked Mary to be his mom, he can’t possibly be a normal kid, he has to AT LEAST amount to being a moonlighting superhero.

This kid, Jeezy, turned out to be puh-ritty special.  So they decided that his birthday was going to be a holiday, and celebrated worldwide. (Sidenote: My parents obviously didn’t anticipate my greatness or else there would be a holiday on June 2.  Still working on it.)

Joe and Mary decided the best way to commemorate the birth of their phantom son, Jeezy, was to bring plants inside and decorate them. Joe got his favorite axe and hand saw, marched outside and picked the best looking tree on the property, and cut that sucka down.

He brought it inside, stood it up next to the fireplace; proud of his work.  Mary got all concerned that it looked out of place, so she did what anyone else would do with a tree inside their house; she decorated the hell out of it. Even put a star on top to remind herself everyday how good of a job she did.

Sitting on their living room couch amidst a roaring fire, Mary, obviously having a wine, Joe, probably chilling out with a nice Budweiser. They agreed to transcribe the Constitution of Christmas AKA Santa’s Laws.

1. Every year people have to bring a tree inside and decorate it.

It’s a little known fact that if you cut a tree down and take it out of it’s element you end up with a sad evergreen on your hands.  No one likes sad trees, so by making it look like it was sprayed with the contents of a craft store, even the saddest trees get time to shine.

Big trees are for squares.

2.  All gifts must be stored under the tree.

Protect and serve the presents. Protect and serve the people.  It’s the tree’s motto. It’s the tree’s job.

3.  There will be an old man responsible for delivering all the presents.  

He will travel by sleigh.  With not eight, but nine reindeer. One will have a red nose.  ONLY ONE.

We didn't make the cut.

We didn’t make the cut.

4.  His name will be Santa.

He will live in a far away land, working with really, really, short/small people to make toys all year round. He will wear only red.  He will be solely responsible for keeping the color relevant.

5.  He will have a list.

This is the master of all lists.  This list keeps track of the good people and the bad people.  If you’re good, you get toys.  If you’re bad, you get…. coal!  No one likes coal, except miners and barbecues.  So if you’re a miner who barbecues, you may as well start acting like a horrible person on December 26. You’ll be grillin’ steaks for DAYS with all the fire fuel you’ll receive.

6.  Santa will not break and enter. 

Santa doesn’t break the laws.  You can’t have Father Christmas picking front door locks, or breaking living room windows.  That’s risky stuff. Bad Christmas PR.  By process of elimination, the chimney is the only other way in, so, sorry bro.  Hope your suit is fire-proof.

Christmas is also the one day of the year where it would not be weird to wake up in the middle of the night and find an old man dressed in a red bathrobe/sweatsuit come out of your chimney and start arranging presents under a tree in your living room.

7.  His reindeer eat carrots. He eats cookies. 

Automatic coal delivery to people who forget the milk.  Same with people who give store bought cookies.  Santa’s bionic nose knows a processed chocolate chip from a home made delight. And he doesn’t reward procrastination.

8. There will be sweaters.  They will be ugly.

What better way to say, “Happy Birthday!” than with a knit sweater picturing an overweight man in a red suit riding on a sleigh with flying deer? The short and long answer is: There is not a better way to say Happy Birthday than with a knit sweater picturing an overweight man in a red suit riding on a sleigh with flying deer. Period.

There will also be pajamas.

There will also be pajamas.

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Bells and all.

They sat back, happy with their creation, and passed down the tradition at each family gathering, and it has become Christmas as we know it.  (I sincerely hope you did not read this and expect anything rational or remotely well thought out.)

With that said, Happy Holidays, my dudes 🙂

xoxo, Pete

(Slightly) Above Average Intelligence

Every so often life comes along and instead of slapping you in the face, it rewards you with a big ol’ hug and a goblet of wine.

In my life, I mostly get slapped in the face, a bad night in heels, less than eight hours of sleep, or not enough milk in the carton to adequately submerge my cinny toast crunchies.

I feel like, in general, I live a pretty average life.  I’m not extremely athletic, a really good singer, or incredibly smart. I don’t know how to appropriately portion my desserts, find pants that fit, or figure out for the life of me why there is a silent P in pterodactyl.

But today is a milestone.  Today life gave me a warm embrace, and a big fat glass of Pinot Noir – because I finally found out that I was good at something!

In my original post, I mentioned that I wasn’t particularly book smart.  While I maintain that notion, I do want to not completely throw myself under the bus here, because I do think I have some sort of redeeming value in this world. I have a boat load of random knowledge all up in my cranium; I’ve just never had an outlet to show off my cerebral strengths.

UNTIL NOW.

I present to you the game that will make you think you are smarter than you actually are: QuizUp.

At is core, it is a trivia game.  But it adds a competitive edge; because by logging in through Facebook you can challenge your friends. That’s right, you can single-handedly select the people you know are dumber than you and challenge them in a game of wits and fast fingers.

Now, you’re probably thinking to yourself, “Hey self, this girl just told the internet world that she wasn’t smart, so I’m gonna challenge her and make life slap her in the face again.”

For that, I applaud you.  Because that means you actually read what I wrote above.  But I encourage you to think twice about challenging me, because I will whoop some internet bootay in the following categories:

Pop: Move over, Madonna, there’s a new Queen of Pop. AND IT’S ME.

Boy Bands:  I wore a boys flannel t-shirt and a visor three days a week in elementary school because of this photo.  Also, know all the ad-libs to every BSB and N*SYNC song.  Not a big deal, but kind of a big deal.

Shopping: Amazon Prime member, Forever 21 addict, Marshall’s and TJMaxx credit card holder. I can’t even contend with myself here.

Logos: When I give directions, I use landmarks as guides rather than street signs.  So naturally, I know a logo before I know the word.

Missing Letters: Fill in the blanks. N_T   IN    MY   H_U_E.

Name The TV Show: I have a sitcom dictionary all up in my noggin.

It’s true, I’ve finally felt what the other half feels.  To be able to be called on in class and know the answer.  To be able to answer a question correctly, rather than making it up. To be able to utilize all the time spent shopping online for retail recognition.

Game on, people.

PS: If you know that you’re like really good at these five categories, please move on and crush someone else’s dreams.  My dreams are fragile, little, sleepy, glass bubbles filled with ponies, chocolate, and brunch buffets. If you mess with those, you may as well commit a real life felony, because you’re robbing me of my life goals.

Happy Quizzing. And thanks to my main man, Ez for telling me “I can”, when all I ever said was, “I don’t want to.”

The Bare Necessities.

I asked my mom the other day, “On a scale of 1-10, how dramatic am I?”

In unwritten dramatic scales, 10 presumably consists of daily temper tantrums in the street because you can’t get two toppings on your ice cream cone, and 1 consists of ignoring all problems in your day to day life because you’re just “so over the drama.”

My mother rated me at an 8.

Yes, an 8 on the drama scale. Mama Pete just sentenced me to a semi-regular mental and physical breakdown in a public place over frozen treats.

Keeping that in mind, but at the same time, ignoring it completely and thinking of me in a more positive, attractive, calm and collected light, I want to tell you a story.

On Thursday night there was an attack on my childhood.

It started with an infomercial. An innocent advertisement for a compilation of songs that serenaded me through adolescence, Now That’s What I Call Disney!

At the start of it all, it seemed like a mix I could get behind. A little piece of plastic disc nostalgia that I could really see myself enjoying… Until I saw the track list.

Frankly, it was just atrocious. Flat out wrong, immoral, and a complete mockery of the cartoons that taught me the wind had colors, carpets can fly, and legs were required for dancing.

I don’t know who did it.  I don’t know what committee is involved with the song selection. But, God as my witness, it needs to be corrected.  The world can’t go on thinking that “Hawaiian Roller Coaster Ride” from Lilo and Stitch is a top twenty Disney hit. It just ain’t right.

This is the list chosen, by what I’m assuming can only be a panel made up of this woman and her friends, to represent Disney in the first volume of hits.

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At first glance you may think to yourself, hey Pete, your mom is totally right, you are dramatic, I actually think I saw you crying about missing toppings on your ice cream cone back in August.  And while I was having a tantrum, it was actually because my friend wouldn’t buy me a wine at 3pm on a Wednesday.

My thoughts on this CD are still valid.

There are so many more than twenty-two things wrong with this CD, but I will keep my rants and raves to a minimum, because I know you have lives, and if you don’t you should get one because reading my feelings on Disney songs aren’t going to win you any arguments, friends, or significant others.

But if you’re going to have a Now That’s What I Call Disney Volume 1, you’ll need a few Bare Necessities, if you will (umm…. yes, pun totally intended). Here are my expert feelings on most of the selections:

…THE GOOD

Can You Feel The Love TonightI’ll be honest, this is the first love scene I ever saw in a feature film. So, that alone needs to be a reason for it to be PRAISED. Lion love is like, so real.

Part Of Your WorldNever in my life have I found someone who had as many thingamabobs as me.  I also have never met anyone who didn’t know what a fire was and why it burned.  Still don’t. So… anyone?

Hakuna Matata: Zen Nation. I didn’t know what chill was until I heard this song.  Plus, teenage Simba was kinda hot, no? Just me? K.

Under the Sea: How did I know things existed under water? This song.  Figured the sea was just a big bathtub that covered the Earth’s floor before I found out there were talking crabs and singing corals down there. Just a big percussion party at the clam bake on the ocean floor.

Circle Of Life: NAHAHHHHHSSIIVVEEENNNYYAAA- NAMA-MEE-SCALABOOOOOW. Don’t know if that’s what it says, but I’m gonna sing it like that so loud, and so proud. Every time. Such a good song.

Colors of the Wind: I have asked four grinning bobcats, none have answered. I have no idea why the hell they keep smiling and someone needs to answer me. NOW.

I Just Can’t Wait To Be KingThis song taught me how to rule a household.  One time my mom told me to go clean my room before my grandparents came to visit. I was all like, “Kings don’t need advice from little horn bills for a start.” —  I don’t want to talk about what happened after that. (#Grounded)

Supercalifragilisticexpialidocious: Ummdiddaliddiaummdillaaaiiiiiiii. I don’t think there are actual words to this song, so it gets credit by default for being a jumble of syllables with a boss melody.

…THE BAD

When You Wish Upon a Shooting Star: Could this be a more boring opener?  Do I want to fall asleep immediately after one song? No. I want to continue my journey down memory lane and go back to the time that I actually thought body parts would grow if I lied (aside: this would be so cool if you could pick the body parts that grew after lying, like my hair, I’d be Millenium Rapunzel with all my fib growth).

Someday My Prince Will Come: The only acceptable song from Snow White that should be included on this cd is Heigh Ho, and you didn’t do that.

Bella Notte: More like better not. Snore city.  Population: everyone listening.

A Dream Is A Wish Your Heart Makes: To be honest, I didn’t even know there were songs in Cinderella, this is just dumb.

Once Upon A Dream, Go The Distance, Friend Like Me, I Won’t Say: Same thing, don’t even remember these songs. Like a bad football player, cut ’em.

Everybody Wants to Be A Cat: Newsflash: No one likes cats. Dogs are so in right now. Puppies are the new currency, and cats are straight up debt. No one wants debt; no one wants cats.

I See The Light, You’ve Got A Friend In Me, Life is A HighwayNew aged Pixar Disney movies shouldn’t even be considered for volume 1 (Post ’95). It’s just a sin. Get out of my face Tangled, Cars, and Toy Story. See you next year, suckaaaaas.

Hawaiian Roller Coaster Ride: Does it sound like a good time? Yes. Do I even know what it means? No. I’ve never seen Lilo and Stitch because I like movies about real animals with real plots. I see you Lion King. Respect.

Reflection (NOT CHRISTINA AGUILERA): I don’t know why I would have to explain this, but not having Christina’s version of this song is nothing shy of eating a sandwich without condiments. Just deplorable.

… THE UGLY

Seeing as I just exiled ten songs from DisneyTown, there are some additions that need to be spoken for in order to make this whole ordeal right:

I’ll Make A Man Out of You: The fact that this song isn’t number 1 on the whole thing is blasphemous. This is the best song in Disney history. Coursing rivers, great typhoons, raging fires, moons with mysterious dark sides. Color me intrigued. Repeat. All day. Every day. Except when I get sick of it. I take one day off. Then start again.

Be Our GuestTalking candles? Pots and pans that have feelings? An ottoman that’s a dog? GIVE ME THIS HOUSE. I don’t need friends, I have decorations that will hang out with me. Life crisis averted.

Heigh-Ho: Give a kid a pick-axe and ask him to sing a song. What’s it gonna be?  This one. Unforgivable overlook.

Reflection (Christina Aguilera Version): Phenomenal acting by Mulan in this music video.  Very attentive, inquisitive stares into various mirrors of sizes and lengths.  Breathtaking.

The only way to make this right is to take my suggestions and reprint all the copies of the cd out there right now. I’m speaking for a generation of 85’s to 90’s babies. But really, I’m speaking for myself. Fix it. Fix it now. Make it right. Or make a man out of me. Either one would be greatly appreciated.

Although, under no circumstances, will I be doing this:

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GOOD DAY.

xoxo, Disney Pete.