Identity Crisis

Alright folks, it looks as though many of you anticipate an identity crisis in my future. New Orleans is going to make me an entirely different person?! That's news to me!

For those of you who don't know me well, let me paint you a picture (or crudely draw you a stick figure):

That's me. Pretty average, I know, but I like me a lot, so I'm happy with this picture.

What everyone else pictures, however, is a little more seedy (or depressing):

To be fair, my family also pictures me as this:

Copyright the History Channel

I have something else in mind:

Adventures in Moving

First and foremost, I'm spoiling you, you know. Don't get used to this posting-on-a-regular-basis business, because it's just not going to happen. I'll fall off the face of the planet again soon, don't worry! Mostly because:

I'm MOVING!

That's right, folks, I really am moving to New Orleans! I'm very excited for this life change!! 

Yay! Sunshine and rainbows and daisies!

...But the reality of moving has definitely set in.

Ugh. Sunshine and rainbows and daisies take up a lot of boxes. 

Don't worry too much about me, though. I'm very quickly approaching the final stage of moving: apathy.

Don't worry. Mostly I donate it all. Everything but the clothes on my back.

This whole process is definitely an emotional whirlwind (mostly because I am moving and all my favorite things about Ohio are not), but it's also been a great learning process for me. Even just looking for places to live, I've noticed how much I've grown over the past few years.

Who cares?! IT'S MY FIRST PLACE!!!

Ah. There's the bitterness of experience right there.

Overall, I'm proud of myself. What a relatively responsible way of looking at renting, right? (I did not use that spreadsheet by the way, but I did think of those things! I still get points for good intentions!)

But, of course, moving has also led me to intense judgement. What kind of person am I? So many questions...

Seriously. I've never smoked ANYTHING. How could I possibly like Pink Floyd THAT much?!

No. I don't have a drinking problem. I have a storage problem.

Five or six pounds of beads.

Not everything has been left a mystery to me, though. I've learned some things, too!

Every piece of trash has a story, dang it!

This shouldn't be in past tense. It's still on my fridge.

Ha cha cha.

Please don't actually nominate me for that show.

Hoarding's not so bad though, is it? Look for updates with more fun facts I'm learning about myself... who knew moving was such a developmental process?!

Boy Band Song Interpretations

*To be more accurate, interpretations are more LeeAnne-ish than "literal."

My little teenage self just melted over that photo. Give me a moment to recollect myself.


I'll be the first to admit: I. Love. Boy. Bands. I loved them then, I love them now-- they are catchy and have harmonies that angels envy. And they have this:

I'm going to ignore how strange this is and just say, "Way to be ahead of your time, boys."

I know every word to every Backstreet Boys song ever penned (even the albums that have been released these last couple of years... yes, I have a problem). But I never thought about the lyrics until much more recently. When I stopped to listen to what I was singing (badly), I was struck by one thought over and over again:

THIS IS FILTHY!

Followed quickly by:

HOW DID MY MOTHER LET ME 

LISTEN TO THIS?!

Think I'm kidding? Below are some illustrations I've created for just a few boy band songs from the 90s and 00s. Needless to say, I didn't pen these songs. And don't bug me if they aren't right-- go to www.azlyrics.com and fix it there!

You're not getting it "all" from me, son.

 I know, I know, "All or Nothing" is supposed to be a sad break-up song. I get that. But this is what I hear every time. 

Giddy up: a song about bestiality?

 I mean, seriously? What do you think Justin Timberlake is singing about riding? 

Seriously. This was a hit?

I never liked LFO. There. I said it.

All those ooh's can't mean anything chaste.

If you listen to "Hey, Mr. DJ" you'll note that the singer is creepily watching this girl and then goes to dance with her, followed by lots of ooh-ooh-ooh's. 

Sorry. This is more filthy than usual.

 I hope no man I ever date has heard this song. (That may be difficult to accomplish since I make most people listen to it whenever they ride in a car with me.) The lesson is that shitty cell phone service can lead to kinky times with some stranger who lives close to a bar. No, no, no. At least at the end she finds out and the singer gets dumped, but that poor girl is left holding phone saying "Hello? Hello? Hello?" for a good three and half minutes.

Don't the phrases in parentheses just make it that much dirtier?

 I was clearly a Backstreet Boys gal. I listened to them non-stop. So how come it didn't trouble me that a pre-pubescent Nick Carter was telling me that he could hit my spot? Surely he didn't know what that was?! 


The dirtiest Backstreet Boys song I know is "Get Down." I couldn't possibly draw all that business, so I made a Wordle. (Yes, I used an educational song to illustrate this filthy song. Judge away!)

Yes, that's blurry. Click on it to see it more clearly!

A "night" for me is a handful of sparkly stars.

 What? You want in my pants in TWO languages?! That's just classy. Of course I'll give you just one night!

Every boy band had one...

Ooohhh... Well, maybe next time.


So you can listen to these songs and be troubled all over again, I conveniently made a Spotify playlist for you: spoti.fi/L5pi5S

Enjoy!