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If you’ve ever taken a ride with me—or even passed me on the highway—you’ve probably witnessed what I like to call “Jani’s Rolling Music Festival.” One minute I’m belting out “Purple Rain” with all the drama of a Vegas headliner (in my mind), and the next I’ve gone full disco with the Bee Gees falsettoing their way through my soul. My playlists are a hot mess of genres, moods, and memories—and honestly, so am I. It’s kind of perfect.

I like to call it my musical menagerie. From rock anthems to yacht rock, from disco grooves to old-school rap, from bluesy ballads to 90s grunge, I’ve curated a collection that makes absolutely no sense to anyone but me. And that’s what makes it magical.

A Nod To My Mother

Now, let me say this: my relationship with my mother was… complicated, to put it gently. But one thing I’ll never take from her is the gift she gave me—my deep love for rhythm and music. That woman had a voice that could rattle a roof. Think Janis Joplin meets Pat Benatar. She didn’t just sing—she performed. And even though I didn’t inherit her pipes (I’m more Kermit the Frog than Kelly Clarkson), I did inherit her feel for music.

I may not hit the high notes, but honey, I feel them.

Carpool Karaoke: Unhinged Edition

There’s something truly therapeutic about being alone in your car, volume up, windows down (or heat blasting, depending on the season), singing like you’re headlining a world tour. For those 3-5 minutes, I’m not a Travel Advisor or a grandma or a woman with a thousand tabs open in her brain—I’m a damn rockstar.

The glow of the dashboard lights and oncoming traffic becomes my concert lighting. The heated seats? Stage pyrotechnics, obviously. The steering wheel? My mic stand. I go full diva, and let me tell you—I give myself a standing ovation every time.

The Method Behind the Madness

People ask me all the time, “How do you go from Earth, Wind & Fire to Eminem in one playlist?” And I say, “Because life isn’t one genre.” My musical tastes reflect every version of me: the Southern girl with a rebellious streak, the awkward teen who found comfort in The Cure, the young mom blasting 90s hip hop in the school drop-off line, the now-sassy glam-ma vibing to Lizzo while sipping coffee in traffic.

Each playlist I build is a mood board. Some are for travel days (think mellow, beachy vibes), others are for rage cleaning (cue the angry girl anthems), and some are just…random. Like, Stevie Nicks, followed by Tupac, followed by ABBA, followed by Queen. Chaos? Maybe. But it works for me.

Music: My Constant Companion

In a life that’s been far from tidy, music has always been the thread that tied it all together. I’ve danced to it, cried to it, driven cross-country to it. I’ve found comfort in lyrics that put my feelings into words and energy in bass lines that made me move even when I didn’t feel like it.

And as much as I joke about being a mess, I’m a beautiful one. So my playlists? They’re just the soundtrack to my wonderfully messy, rhythm-filled, slightly off-key life.

Want to ride shotgun with me?

Drop a comment with your favorite genre-hopping, mood-swinging songs. Maybe I’ll add them to my next playlist—just don’t be surprised when they’re nestled between Fleetwood Mac and Missy Elliott.

Because around here, the only rule is: if it moves me, it makes the cut.

Stay tuned for more of my fave playlists on Spotify!

XOXO, Jani

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