Words That Mean Something Very Different in NOLA

As a transplant in NOLA (2+ years and going strong!), I'm especially conscious of how much dialect affects what words mean. I've finally stopped asking what people down here are saying-- 1. because I've probably picked up on it by now, 2. because sometimes that's just easier, and/or 3. because if I don't know it by now, it can't be all that common so stop saying that, I don't want to hear it! 

Not to mention people in New Orleans make fun of how I talk all the time (e.g., my hard A's like when I'm wagging around a saggy bag, my occasional "you guys" instead of "y'all," or talking about cheese all the time). 

Welcome to the Midwest! Where words mean exactly what the dictionary says they mean! 

Lessons learned here? For one thing, people in New Orleans are jerks for their weird words and for making fun of ME for being normal. (I mean, seriously. National news anchors base their delivery off of Columbus, OH speech patterns. HELLO. I should cite that, but I won't because you can Google it or assume I'm lying.)

For another, I have to be very conscious of how I'm speaking if I want to fit in, because there is a LOT of room for misunderstanding. 

So here I am, a gal who doesn't talk like she's from New Orleans OR from the Midwest, who will try to explain to all you people exactly what my struggle has been.

Example #1: Snowball

This is a no-brainer in the Midwest. However, it's completely foreign to people in New Orleans. And shut up, you NOLA local who swears you made a snowball once in 2008 and it was glorious. NO. That was pathetic. This is a snowball to you:

The yummier, smoother, fancier version of the Icee of the rest of the world. New Orleans: the one place in the world where eating yellow snowballs is not only appropriate but also encouraged.

2. Example #2: Shotgun

In the Midwest: Your God-given and Constitution-protected right to bear arms and spend a lot of money on ammunition. We have that in NOLA, too, but when you talk "shotgun" here, THIS is the first thing to come to mind:

A New Orleans shotgun is a house. You live in it. You paint it crazy colors. You don't use it to take out targets, animals, or people.

On a related note, example 2b: camelback. In the Midwest: a brand of water bottle or an actual camel's hump. In New Orleans? A shotgun house with a second story added to the back end. I could explain to you why, but I won't.

Example #3: Cold drink

In the Midwest: quite literally and unimaginatively, a drink that is cold. Any drink that is cold.

In New Orleans: quite irrationally and very specifically, a soda or pop or coke or whatever you choose to call a sugary, carbonated beverage. Probably cold. I am sure that I will NEVER understand this.

Example #4: Dressed

In the Midwest: Again, literally it means being dressed. Having clothes on. (We're not creative? Or maybe we just like for our words to MAKE SENSE.) Extra points for dressing in a dress.

In New Orleans: Putting everything on your sandwich. Like your sandwich is getting dressed up? I guess. I guess I can embrace this. When I go home to see the family, I will just ask for my sandwiches with everything on it. Sorry. "Fully dressed" will only get me strange stares at the deli in Ohio.

Example #5: Suck the head, pinch the tail

Um, excuse me? This is a family-friendly blog and I will NOT have the kind of dirty talk.

 

Oooooooooh, wait. You're in New Orleans, so you're eating crawfish. Yep, this sexually charged phrase is a set of instructions for eating mudbugs. They're delicious, and this is the best way to enjoy them, so cheers, y'all! I'll be suck 'dem heads until dere ain' no more to suck!

And a note to my Midwestern friends: Just don't bother saying this. It's not worth it. #badpickuplines

Riding Down Relationship River

So I have this metaphor about relationships that I'm pretty proud of (translation: that I talk about ALL the time). My friends and co-workers are probably pretty tired of hearing about it, so now I'm sharing it with everyone else-- and with them again, but this time with ILLUSTRATIONS! 

Relationship River is more of a journey than a destination. Like any river, it can be fun, relaxing, terrifying, or anything else all at some point as it runs its course. Or so I assume rivers go. I've watched a lot of "Pocahontas" in my day, and I hear that the great thing about rivers is that you can't step in the same river twice-- a river's always changing, always flowing. The point is: you never know what's around the riverbend. (See what I did there? If not, shame on you. Stop reading this blog. You don't deserve to read anymore.)

The point is, people have different methods for going down Relationship River.

Some people actively navigate Relationship River, steering around obstacles and generally having a good time.

Other people whitewater raft down Relationship River, actively seeking out drama and loving life. Good for them.

Even others speed through relationships, zooming through anyone who can't keep up.

Not me. I am none of those people.

If you're unfamiliar with "cabrewing," that's when people canoe or tube down a lazy river with a cooler full of booze in tow. (*Otherwise merely referred by some as "canoeing" or "tubing." To-may-to, to-mah-to, I say.)

I don't make this comparison to say that I have a drinking problem (though I live in New Orleans, so my perspective on healthy drinking habits may be a bit skewed). What I mean is that I am quite possibly the most passive person I know when it comes to relationships. I thoroughly enjoy just floating along, doing my thing and having a good time. If someone comes along, well that's just dandy! But otherwise, I'm good. 

That sounds awesome in theory, but often not in practice.

The biggest problem is that I don't really ever stop being passive. If someone bops into me on Relationship River, I'll tie on with them. Why not? Let's roll down the river together!

If I'm coupled with someone who actively works our way down the river, great. I just float along and see where he takes me! Usually that's to some great places. Eventually, though, he gets tired of doing all the work (Oops, sorry!) and cuts me off to go our separate ways down the river. It's inevitable. I'm over it.

Sometimes, though, I couple up with another cabrew-er.

Usually it's awesome at first. I'm down with relaxing and seeing wherever the river takes us. WHAT COULD GO WRONG?!

Well, rivers are pretty awful places, that's what could go wrong! SO MANY HAZARDS TO NAVIGATE! When two cabrew-ers float along, they get caught up on rocks, flip over in rapids, and end up stranded on the shoreline and shriveling up in the sun.

It makes sense that time getting sunburnt and miserable on shore and outside of Relationship River ultimately kills the relationship. My problem? I'm lazy. And happy in my little ol' inner-tube. And, being with another cabrew-er, my partner usually ends up doing the same thing. So ultimately, we end up being miserable together for a while before we realize it and one of us eventually rolls away. 

I usually end up alone and sad on the shoreline for a few days, but I roll back into the river eventually, though, and get rehydrated and back to my old self. 

Moral of the story: I may stink at relationships, but I sure have a good time floating down Relationship River anyway! I still have hope that I'll find somebody to roll down the river with me before I plummet off of Crazy-Cat-Lady Falls!!!

Happy sailing, y'all!

My Gift to You: The All-Purpose Holiday Card

Pumped to see people are still reading this (even if it's only to read what I have to say about bar skanks)-- in gratitude, I've made a holiday card for y'all to use. 

Being in the middle of Hanukkah and on the heels of Festivus/Christmas/Kwanzaa/Boxing Day/etc, I'm in the giving mood. In the name of inclusivity, I've made the card so that you can personalize it for your holiday needs.

(Card Front)

(Card Interior)

I did my best to express whatever sentiments you may be feeling this holiday season. Sending a card to your Jewish schoolteacher? Print this card and check off the "Happy" and the "Hanukkah". Stewing over your terrible break-up? Write in "Horrifying" and check "Apocalypse" and you're set. Need something for that co-worker who you don't know very well? Wish them "Festive" "Holidays." That's how truly versatile this card is.

Think of all the money you're saving, printing just one card instead of buying a variety of them. (If you want to go fancy with this, you can print custom 5"x7" cards at Vistaprint at 20 for $14.99. Yes, of course I checked.)

You're welcome.

(*Like this card? I also made a newsletter for singles to send to their families before holiday gatherings. I'll be sending them together this year.)

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!

LeeAnne's Bar Skank Guide

Well, I've survived the holidays and apparently I've spent a full two weeks recovering from NYE in New Orleans. It wasn't depressing as my last post promised, but I digress. I'm here to fill y'all in on what I have been up to these last few weeks... Beginning with a guide to bar skanks.

Last weekend we had an awesome comedy magician and an amazing hypnotist on campus, and what better way to celebrate that than to get crunked? Just kidding, but I did go out with friends that came down for the show to the village bar, "The Regal Beagle." At the time I joked that they were lucky they were such "Three's Company" fans, otherwise I wouldn't go in there. But if I hadn't gone, where would my blog inspiration be? And what would you, dear reader, be doing right now?!

It all started with my friend Evie, who sort of prides herself in her people watching skills.

I want to clarify here that she is announcing "Skanks, ho!" as in "Skanks ahead!" or "Skanks ahoy!" (hence the pirate hat) and not as in "Skanks and hoes!" That's just redundant, and Evie wouldn't waste her time with such silly announcements.

Anyway, what better place to spot bar skanks than in a college bar? To save yourself some time next time you're out, we've put together a skank spotting guide for your general safety and convenience.

You are bound to encounter any variety of bar skanks in the wild, so I've taken the liberty of illustrating four for you. 

I want to take a moment to say I didn't draw these panels to say that I'm a skank, even though I'm the example in each one. After my friend Jackie pointed out that I always make her my alcoholic friend in my posts, I realized I didn't want anybody else complaining that I always make them my skank friend. So there. Judge away, if you must!


If you disagree or have other bar skanks in mind, forget you, start your own blog. If you think these four are a little too specific and you don't know what to do with yourself, don't fret! If all else fails, study and remember the following bar skank behaviors and you'll be an advanced skank spotter in no time!

(As I finished the example skanks in that panel, I thought to myself, "Do I have a thing against blonde people?" but we'll save the self-discovery for some other time.)


In case you're wondering what a skank fight looks like, I imagine it looks something like this: 

Yeah, I just doodled crudely over the glitter explosion drawing I did for my Christmas crafting post. Have you seen what skanks wear? I don't think this is too far off the mark. Glitter, sequins, it's all the same.


In case you're wondering what a man fight looks like, fortunately for you we experienced one last weekend so I can share the whole thing in great detail:

Our reactions as I've described them are pretty accurate and say a lot about our character. Well, except Duke's reaction-- I don't really know what he was thinking, but he was working really hard on keeping his southern drawl all night so I hope against hope that he was thinking something like that. Or "those fellas are scrappier than a couple o' rabid possum" or "looks like two pigs fighting under a blanket." Well, that last one was from Steel Magnolias, but I think you get it.


Unfortunately, none of our reactions were at all effective. The fight was not broken up, the drinks were not saved, and although the table was initially flipped away from us, it eventually flipped back toward us, resulting in this:

(Technically I was covered in beer, but I didn't want to draw that because, well, let's think about what that would look like.)


Had we been bar skanks, we probably would have managed to get away from the man fight unscathed.


And just so Jackie doesn't feel left out of a blog post where I talk about booze:

Happy skank spotting!

Happy Awkward Holidays, Vol. 4

New Year's Eve is one of the weirdest holidays that we celebrate-- even holidays like Boxing Day (a very practical holiday) and President's Day (a commemorative day off of work) make more sense. Why, you ask? Because at least those holidays have a purpose. 


New Year's Eve is the most. Depressing. Holiday. Ever. 
(Do you like how I used punctuation to let you know how to read that aloud? Me, too.)


I'm not the only one who thinks so, either. For Pete's sake, I even found an online NYE survival guide. SURVIVAL GUIDE?! Not only is it depressing, apparently it's LIFE-THREATENING, too!!!


But I digress-- I didn't post this just to ramble. I've introduced my argument, now I present:

THE EVIDENCE

First of all, I'd like to say that I believe that there are only two ways to celebrate NYE, and neither are very good choices.

 The first way to celebrate? Get together with other people (friends or strangers, who cares?) and get crunked! To make it classy, you'll wear your new Christmas clothes and drink champagne. It doesn't really matter what you do, because you won't even remember anyway.

Need I say more? We've all been here. Or maybe it's just me, but I'll include all of you in this to make me feel better. Depressing.

As for being single on NYE? It's like all the awkwardness from Thanksgiving through Christmas condensed into one evening. There are only two traditions associated with this holiday: (1) watching something drop from the sky at midnight (e.g.,the giant ball in Times Square) and (2) kissing someone at midnight. That's completely shutting out all of us single folks. Frankly, it's worse than Valentine's Day.

Valentine's Day somehow created an alternative Singles Awareness Day, so single people can all bond together and hate on anyone who isn't single. Not on NYE! No, on NYE singles are left to fend for themselves all on their own.

Where all my people at on NYE?! There's no party just for single people. Nope. They're either home alone or at a party awkwardly standing around trying not to look at everyone else making out at midnight. Or they're kissing strangers and we won't associate with that type. Depressing.

Then there's the business of New Year's resolutions.

There's nothing like saying, "Wow, I'm sure not at all satisfied with this year in my life-- I think I'll completely change my living habits!" to make you feel all warm and fuzzy inside. 

But the kicker is the idea of celebrating the year being over. Why not celebrate on New Year's?! It's so exciting! A new year! Wonderful! How often do we celebrate things being done? Hmmm.

There. I've stated my case. Go forth and try not to be too bummed on Saturday night. I hear Dick Clark has a pretty rockin' eve planned. (Hardy har har.)

Happy New Year's Eve, y'all!!!