Adventures with Geannii

 Last Morning at Disney: Ears, Tears & Suitcase Fears We waited for Erin and the boys to say our goodbyes, which felt less like parting and more like the end of a reality show season finale. I went in search of Mickey Mouse ears—because my backpack has a designated “ear zone,” obviously. $35 for something I’ll never wear and will eventually donate to the “Why Did I Buy This?” bin. But hey, it completes the look. Packing: The Sequel We said our goodbyes and began the sacred ritual of shoving suitcases into the car. Thank goodness we didn’t buy much—unless you count two robots, a Light saber, snacks, and a questionable amount of emotional baggage. My backpack didn't fit in the back, so I had to hold it like a needy toddler. Shoutout to my lavender sweatshirt, which I wore every single day like it was my emotional support hoodie. Best $6.00 I ever spent—basically a hug with sleeves. LA Arrival: Hilton Hijinks We made it across town to the Hilton with zero mishaps. Miracles do happ...

 We got up early—because nothing says “vacation” like voluntarily setting an alarm. Breakfast was at the Tiki Bar, same place we got drinks last night, which felt oddly like returning to the scene of a delicious crime. I ordered a Hawaiian croissant stuffed with pulled pork, fancy cheese, bacon, scrambled egg, and pineapple slices. Coffee? $23. For that price, I expected Mickey to serve it with jazz hands and a tap dance. He did not. But that croissant? AMAZING. I was basically back in Hawaii, minus the ocean breeze and the guy playing ukulele in flip-flops.  The Souvenir Olympics   After breakfast, we passed through security like seasoned pros—bags open, sunscreen ready, dignity optional. The kids headed for the monorail like it was the Hogwarts Express, and I set off on a noble quest: find a souvenir that wouldn’t end up in the Goodwill pile next spring. Options? Endless. Tees, hoodies, water bottles, backpacks, toys, Mickey and Minnie on everything short of dental flos...

 Chaos on the Highway: Dukes of Hazzard, LA Edition Back on the road, cruising along, when suddenly—brake lights! Dust clouds! Cars lunging into the left lane like it was the last lifeboat on the Titanic. We slowed to a crawl and passed a car tipped on its side, surrounded by people scavenging like it was a post-apocalyptic yard sale. I swear that car auditioned for Dukes of Hazzard and nailed the stunt. Scary? Absolutely. Slightly hilarious in its absurdity? Also yes. 🌴 Palm trees and ocean breeze—we’ve officially landed in California. We told the security guard we were staying at the Disneyland Resort. He gave us a look, then waved us through like we were royalty. I read the sign: $40 a day for parking. Are they charging us to breathe the pixie-dusted air too? Yes. Yes, they are. 🧳 We dragged our luggage out of the car like we were starring in a slow-motion drama. I watched my suitcase wheels wobble like they were auditioning for retirement. “Hang in there, little guys,” I whis...

 Thunder and rain rolled in like Biblical times.   Betty and I sat on the patio just listening to it drum on the metal roof. Pure bliss. She filled her little rock waterfall—complete with a hummingbird statue—and the big pond was going strong. Tomorrow, we head to Disneyland!  Yay excitement, anticipation… and suitcase paranoia. I weighed mine—33 pounds, still under control—but those wheels have seen better days. Can you actually buy tires for a suitcase like a car? Asking for a friend. The bigger problem: I haven’t even started shopping at Downtown Disney yet. The temptation, the shiny things, the fun stuff… my wallet is trembling, and my suitcase wheels are silently groaning. Packing tip #1: check the wheels. Packing tip #2: remember that souvenirs weigh more than your arm power. Packing tip #3: pack snacks, because Disney lines are long and hunger is evil.. I’ve added 6 shirts, two hoodies, and a pair of white capris.   Fuji bought me a bag of no-brand popcor...

  We started Sunday by… getting lost on our way to church. I helpfully pointed out, “Ya’ll, if you went to church more often, you’d know the way.” My humor was not appreciated. (Tough crowd before 10 a.m., I guess.)   Thanks to Rob—not the GPS—we eventually made it. Afterward, we told everyone we were heading to Sizzler. Easy plan, right? Wrong. Somewhere between church and lunch, Judy’s phone (or Google) rerouted us. Suddenly the new destination: Bravo Farms. (Thanks to Rob's Text.) Excuse me, what? What about the friends who think we’re at Sizzler?? I wisely kept my mouth shut. I’m just the tagalong—I go where I’m dragged.   Bravo Farms was… interesting. The boys used to come here when they were little and wanted to recreate old photos. While they were off chasing nostalgia, I was busy chasing food. Priorities. By the time Betty, Judy, and I finished eating, my crew was outside climbing the treehouse. Naturally, I followed, because apparently my “vacation insurance” doe...

    8/23/25  I heard Brandy at 5 a.m. Betty was gone, it was just me and Waddles. I’m NOT getting up I thought, until Waddles waddled over and nudged me like a furry drill sergeant: “Everyone’s up. You should be too. Let’s go, soldier.”   Betty was already in the kitchen, caffeinated and thriving.    I mentioned a shower and in need of a towel. (She has so many doors in the hallway I didn’t wanna be like Snoop Dog snooping.)  She handed me a towel and didn’t mention the fact I really needed a shower.     I grabbed a shower and met them out in the she-shed—. Betty bought some doors, Anthony hinged them together, slapped a roof on top, and boom—Nice retreat away from Fuji (her husband) and the dogs. Nope, he enjoys it as much as Betty.   Sitting by the waterfall, watching Koi fish do their lazy swimming like don’t you wish you were a Koi? Yes, yes I do.  I had my laptop out, trying to capture memories and take pictures, but hones...

Michael’s 18th Birthday and the Airport Circus Why does packing always feel like preparing for the apocalypse? You’d think after all my traveling, I’d be a pro. Spoiler: I’m not. My suitcase sits half-packed, silently judging me from the corner like, “Really? No Rest For the Wicked?” Then crunch time hits, and suddenly it’s Survivor: Closet Edition. What stays? What goes? How many white shorts does one human actually need? (Apparently, a lot. My name is Jeanne… I have a white shorts problem.) And the BTS shirts? Non-negotiable. Leave them behind, and how will I ever find another ARMY in the wild? Next up: writing gear. Journals, colored pens, stickers, washi tape… all essential, naturally. Funny thing is, I only use my Chromebook on vacation. I keep thinking I’ll get bored, but: hasn’t happened yet. Years of packing like a pack mule, rarely using any of it—but hey, better safe than creatively stifled. Carry-on packed! Essentials: undies (most important), five white shorts, five BTS shi...