Real Talk

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.


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


(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.


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.”