A lot of people tell me (usually when I’m complaining) what a charmed life I lead. Well, duh! I’ve never contended otherwise. I’m extremely lucky and blessed in many ways. But, despite the effortlessness I strive to portray, it’s not easy, and whether you want to admit it or not, I do work hard. The difference between me and many others, from what I can tell at least, is the way I approach the day. And this is a secret that is only a secret because I never thought much about it until a friend mentioned how it seemed like my life was so carefree and easy. Well, it’s not. No one would admit theirs is. But what I try to do is live each day as if I was on vacation.

A vacation need not be constituted by travel around the world or expensive hotels or catered dinners. For me, a vacation is a frame of mind. All the joy and exuberance I might outwardly muster is from this unconscious (up until now) effort to behave as if I was on perpetual vacation from the drudgery of life.

First off, when most of us are on vacation we don’t care what other people think – mostly because we’ll likely never see them again. In far-off lands and foreign climes, we let our guard down because we’re relatively safe in assuming that the people we encounter won’t be following us back to the workplace or the Thanksgiving Dinner table. There’s safety and security, and more than a little freedom, in anonymity.

Second, we wear crazy and fun outfits when we’re on vacation – whether that’s in more relaxed beach garb, or fanciful formal couture for dressy dinners. We dig out the cocktail dress or the bow tie, we try out hats that we never would have looked twice at when home. Some guys might even squeeze into a Speedo on a beach outside of America. It’s the time and place when we dare to be what we’ve always wanted to be, and it’s all okay because we think what happens on vacation stays outside of real life, and judgment, and criticizing homeland eyes.

Third, on vacation we splurge and treat ourselves to things we normally wouldn’t. Whether that’s dessert, or an expensive piece of jewelry, or an extra cocktail, we relax and indulge. We take the time to pamper ourselves, to give in to the pleasurable impulse, to seize the day. And through that, the important things suddenly come to the forefront, and when you realize what really matters in life, it makes everything that much easier.

Finally, we learn to relax and let go of the trivial things that bother us every other day of the year. Strict schedules bend and sway, tight rules break and unbind, and rigid countenances melt away. We laugh a little easier, we look with a little more wonder, we stop sweating the small stuff. What was initially a physical, concrete form of change and transformation takes on a mental and emotional aspect too. A vacation doesn’t just change your outer surroundings, it changes the inner workings too.

If you think I lead a charmed life, it’s probably no more charming than yours – I’ve just learned to treat it a little differently. Yes, there are costs to such a lifestyle (American Express can back me up on that), but for peace of mind, for happiness and contentment, well, it’s worth it. There’s enough sadness and anger and insanity in this world. Why begrudge yourself a little fun in the midst of such madness? Take a vacation – starting today, and starting again on Monday, and Tuesday, and Wednesday… and …

On certain summer afternoons, when the sun is slanting just so, and the breeze is warm but not hot, there is a feeling of ripeness and ethereal wonder. Through eyes hazy with sun and chlorine, the light dances on the water, bending through the banded zebra grass or alighting on the shiny chrome of a ladder.

Thanks to the forces of a full moon, Sunday proved a very trying day. Not content to have my back thrown out, or my nephew pee on the patio, the universe also conspired to have my iPhone plop into the pool. Strangely enough, I was NOT taking pictures of myself at the time (I’d finished doing that earlier in the day). I was simply moving it, placing it on top of the book in my hand as I walked by the shallow end, and it slipped right in. I jumped in and pulled it out within seconds, but the damage was done.

The recommended course of action is to place it in a bag of rice and seal it up, so the rice can pull the moisture out. The only question was: white or brown rice? I ended up opting for the latter, as seen in these photos. A few hours later, I went to check on the phone, and in the dim bedroom the bag was glowing orange. What kind of E.T.-phone-home-bullshit was this? It cast an eerie glow, like it was possessed, powering up a life of its own. It was warm to the touch – maybe its survival instincts were kicking in, as it tried to dry itself of its own accord. Whatever the case, it was unsettling. And it didn’t go off when I tried to power it down either. I left it there, alone in the cool dark, glowing strangely, either in death throes or rebirth.

The next morning, the glow was gone. I tried to turn it on, and it indicated a low-battery. This was a good sign, or so I thought. I plugged it into the charger and let it charge for a few hours. And then… nothing. If this is the universe’s way of telling me that I’m too dependent on my phone, I didn’t need the message.

The week that turned into summer has just passed, and what a week it was. Beginning in New York City with my Mom and Suzie, and finishing up with my Mom and niece and nephew, it was a wonderful start to the season.

There’s no better way to kick-off a summer of fun than with a musical, or two. In this case, it was the amazing ‘Kinky Boots’ and the death-defying ‘Pippin’.

The gardens continued their show, with a rose in the rain and the fragrant mock-orange.

Madonna premiered her MDNA Tour film in New York, but my focus was back on her 1985 song ‘Crazy For You’.

The parade of boys for the summer began with JP Calderon, Chris Fawcett, and Tomas Brand.

And last but most certainly not least, cocktail time consisted of the Southside and the piña colada.