All-Swimupclusiveness = Happiness

Just yesterday, I returned from a fantastic vacation at a resort in the Dominican Republic. Spectacular beach, crystal clear ocean, fantastic pools of all shapes and sizes, and constant sunshine....what more could I ask for. Ironically though, the best part about this vacation was the fact that it was at an all-inclusive resort. I'm not sure how many of you have experienced a vacation at an all-inclusive resort...but you should know, it's nothing short of heaven right here on Earth.

I typically use vacations as a time to re-assess my life...pinpointing areas that I'd like to change...and also just simply thinking about what makes me happy. Well, I've decided that what makes me happy is....all-inclusiveness!  I mean, sure these vacations still cost money. After all, nothing's free in this world. But, the mere fact that I was able to lock up my wallet in my hotel room's safe for the week, yet still have unlimited food and drinks...I could barely comprehend it. I couldn't put it into words the joy that I felt. A stress-free week without worrying about money...ahhhh.

It led me to wonder...how could I bring this feeling of pure satisfaction back to my everyday life? Well..hmmm..I guess I probably can't. Just imagine it though...what if we just paid a lump sum of money every year and were always able to go into any restaurant we chose...whenever we wanted...and ate and drank to our hearts' content? Not very realistic, I guess, but quite appealing.  I guess I just like the feeling of something being included. Makes me feel nice inside.

So, I began thinking about yet another facet of my vacation that made me happy....the swim-up bar! This too just might be difficult to take home with me. It does beg the question, however, why is it that things are more fun when you swim up to them? Laugh if you must. If you don't believe me, then try this...walk into a bar and order a drink. Now, go to that same bar, but instead of walking in, swim up to it and order your drink. Which was more fun? See what I mean?  Perhaps we could instate that pleasure-inducing mode of transportation somewhere in society. Swim-up banks maybe? Swim-up supermarkets? Maybe going to the dentist would be a more palatable experience if you could just swim up to the dentist chair.

These may be dreams for now, but at least I now know that I will ensure that my next vacation destination will be an all-inclusive, swim-up bar-inhabited resort. As for you...well you can read my all-inclusive blog. You navigate to the blog and can read all of these posts...free-of-charge! Now, I just need to figure out how I can get you to swim up to it.

My Jeanius Tendencies

It's true that "jeans" may not be the most common topic for a blog post.  However,  I have, what some people might consider, an unreasonable attachment to my jeans.  It's not that I'm obsessed with them or anything. That would be weird.  I'm just a bit particular about them. Oh...and then there's the fact that they're the only form of pants that I will ever wear on my legs in the non-summer months.

Sure, if you go looking through my closet, you may come across a few pairs of corduroys and maybe a couple pairs of khakis. However, these don't ever go into rotation unless it's absolutely necessary. And believe me, there'd better be a good reason for me to be wearing something other than my beloved jeans.

Of my varied selection of jeans, only a lucky few end up making it into my weekly rotation.  And actually, from the moment of purchase, I'm probably aware of which ones I will and won't wear, but I'll never admit it at the time.  I'll  always buy some dark ones and a couple not-so-dark ones ...just so there's a bit of jean variety.  I even have one pair with a button-fly, which I regret ever having purchased.  In fact, I think it was an accidental purchase. I didn't realize they were button-fly when I bought them. Think about it...when you undo your fly,  it's for one of three reasons...  1) you're about to go to the bathroom  2) you're about to have sex, or 3) you're about to go to sleep.  Most, if not all of  these are relatively time-sensitive and somewhat urgent activities.  Button-flies only serve to make the process of removing your jeans take longer than it needs to.  They're never as easy as the simple-to-maneuver mechanics of our familiar friend, the zipper.   

So, anyway,  I become attached to a select few pairs of jeans..maybe three of them.  I'll wear these jeans day after day after day. When all three of these pairs of jeans are dirty, I will exclaim, "I have nothing to wear!"…even though my closet is stocked with additional pairs of jeans and the aforementioned corduroys and khakis.  I don't like to leave the house not feeling comfortable.  Apparently, leg coverings dictate my level of comfort. Weird? Definitely.  The problem is...I keep on wearing and washing these jeans that little-by-little, the legs seem to get incrementally shorter...to the point where, when I sit down, my socks are fully exposed.  That's most certainly a jean faux pas.  Perhaps if I keep washing them, they will turn into jean shorts. That way, I can wear jeans in the hot summer months as well.  Smart, huh?

Fortunately, I work at a company where people are allowed to wear jeans. In fact, every company I've ever worked for was jeans-friendly.  I'm actually not even sure if my co-workers would recognize me in pants. Well, I'm sure they would recognize me, but they may not recognize my legs.  "Nice to see you, Jon...but who are they?" (as they point to my legs)  They might worry about me if I was crazy enough to change it up like that. 

I don't like to worry people.  To be safe, I'll stick with my jeans.

The Time That is Mine

I have a love/hate relationship with my morning commute.  There's definitely a bit of hate because it means that I'm up early in the morning and am on my way to a possibly stressful day at the office.  However, my morning commute is my only time where I can sit in one place and just think.  That's where the love comes in.  I can reminisce about the past, get lost in the present or look forward to the future.  I can write blog posts. I can write songs in my head.  Hell, I can just stare blankly out the window and NOT think at all!   That's the beauty of the morning commute.  It's my time.  Hmm..I like the sound of that..."myyyy" time.

Here are some tidbits that actually have run through my twisted brain during this glorious time:

• Why am I feeling an uncontrollable urge to keep checking my Blackberry every 2 min?  It's only 8:30am!  How many emails could I possibly get at this time anyway?  I swear, I think my fingers just know to check my email without me even being aware.  I wonder if my fingers are communicating with their other "finger" friends through email.  'Cause they're certainly checking it on a much more frequent basis than my brain can keep up with.  Look at those fingers right now...they're just typing away. About what?  To whom?  I'm really not quite sure, but I do know that those little guys are workin' real hard.
  

• Why can one person get a ticket driving in his or her car for not wearing a seat belt, but 50 people on a bus are not required to wear one at all?  In fact, I don't see any seat belts around here at all.  Even stranger than that, it's not against the law to stand up while on the bus either.
  

• Hmm...when the Lincoln Tunnel was built, there must've been one hell of a sale on yellow tile! Some tile store owner out there was like, "Jackpot! Best. Customer. Ever."  He's probably retired on an exotic island somewhere now.
  

• Why does that guy behind me think he needs to SCREAM into his cell phone for the other person to hear him.  "SCRAMBLED, MOM!  I said I had SCRAMBLED EGGS FOR BREAKFAST!!"  I can't think of a time when it would be necessary to scream about eggs...ever.  Well, perhaps if it was something more like:  "WATCH OUT! YOU'RE ABOUT TO BE ATTACKED BY A GIANT EGG!!"

• Why does that guy look SO happy to be getting on this bus?  Why does he have to make us grumpy morning people, who are dreading the work day, look so negative?!  How could anyone board a bus with a smile that big?  It just seems wrong. In order for us to feel like we're all in this together, we need to be quiet and unfriendly.  It's in the rule booklet.  Read it.

• Does the girl across from me think I'm crazy because I'm playing air drums with my iPod as one of my drum sticks?  It's quite a shame that she can't hear the music and is therefore unable to recognize and applaud my superb rhythmic skills.  To her, I probably look like I'm having some sort of seizure.  But to me, it just feels so right. 

•  Stepping off the bus now.  "Myyyy" time is officially over.

Hey, there's always the evening commute!  Always something to look forward to.

Sand…a safe haven?

Can sand make the world a safer place? It just may be the case.

When we're set up for a day at the beach, and we suddenly get the urge to go for a swim in the ocean…or to simply take a stroll, we oddly have no problem parting from our bags, pocketbooks, wallets, keys, chairs, toys…you name it! The thought would never occur to us to worry that someone may steal our belongings. In fact, while we're at it, we may even go back to the beach house for a few hours, take a nap…while our hard-earned precious items remain nestled in the sand, blocks away. Then, we finally make our way back to the beach and magically, everything remains exactly where we left it! In this day and age?? Impossible! We did, however, take that extra precaution of throwing a towel over the extra-important items…because, no thief would EVER know to look under a towel..especially a towel that has strangely taken on the shape of a women's purse.

Anyway, it's a bit ironic (don't ya think?) Every other day, we're making sure our doors are locked, our keys and wallets are deeply tucked into our pockets, etc….but strangely enough, not at the beach. It's got to be the power of sand!

I'm thinking about spreading sand across all of the rooms in my house. That way, if a burglar ever enters the house, he'll see the sand and say "Damn! They have sand! I'll have to find another house to steal from!" After all, they know the rules!

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