I Dream of FIRE

In pursuit of financial independence and personal fulfillment

All-inclusive vs. cruising: How they compare

I recently spent a week at the all-inclusive Villa Del Palmar resort in Cabo San Lucas, Mexico — my first time staying at an all-inclusive.

There was much lounging, much swimming, much food and much drink. Also, being closer to the equator must do something strange to the body, because my scale doesn’t seem to be working like it did before I left.

Since I’m an experienced cruiser and a novice all-inclusiver, I thought I would compare the two for people who have only done one or neither.

Continue reading

Is my kid turning into a mindless consumer, or just being a kid?

My daughter turned six a few weeks ago, and it was like Christmas in June. Our household unintentionally invented a two-week holiday of consumer glory and wrapping paper.

In the aftermath, my wife and I are genuinely concerned we’ve let things get out of control and it’s time for an intervention. Or maybe we just have a six-year-old? I don’t know. Maybe you can help me figure it out. Continue reading

Life insurance may be the most important money you will ever spend

I have a really important question for you. It’s morbid. It’s painful. And you’re not going to like it. But it’s possibly the most important personal finance question you can answer.

If you die today, what does life look like financially for those you leave behind?

Before you answer, I want you to consider some things. Continue reading

Book review: “Unfu*k Yourself: Get Out of Your Head and Into Your Life”

Gary John Bishop makes it clear in no uncertain terms: You are currently living the life you want to live, whether you like it or not.

Bishop says our brains are wired to win, and so we naturally and subconsciously act in ways that support our view of ourselves, even if that view is negative or harmful. Continue reading

The $1,000 day at the flea market

The soggy wad of bills in my pocket had grown from $80 to over $300 in just a few minutes. Eight strangers were huddled under umbrellas in and around our rented UHaul yelling at me to tell them prices and then negotiate a deal.

“How much?”
“$20”
“How about $15?”
“$17”
“No, $15”
“Yeah, sure.”

With every sale I lifted the flimsy plastic poncho, pulled the mountain of cash from my shorts pocket, and added to it or peeled off tens, fives and singles for change. There were always three people who wanted my attention and two others telling me I better watch the rest because they’ll all rob me blind if I turn around.

Welcome back to the flea market. Continue reading

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