The best place to rent a vacation property in Lake Tahoe is at The Resort At Squaw Creek. Despite the pandemic, The Resort At Squaw Creek is open and ready for business. They have instituted tremendous cleanliness and safety protocols as well.

I’ve been coming to The Resort At Squaw Creek since 2001 and firmly believe it is the best place in Lake Tahoe for couples, friends, and families.

Lake Tahoe, California is one of my favorite places to vacation in America. Lake Tahoe is situated roughly 205 miles away from San Francisco and 35 minutes from the Reno, Nevada airport.

It’s a place I’ve been going to for amazing skiing/snowboarding during the winter and golfing, hiking, swimming, biking, and fishing during the summer since 2001.

Most people think of Lake Tahoe as a winter destination given the 1960 Winter Olympics were hosted in Squaw Valley USA. Squaw is one of the largest mountains with a 2,850 foot vertical; a top elevation of 9,050; 4,000 acres of skiable area and 270 trails after joining forces with Alpine Meadows in 2012.

The mountain is so big that even during peak holiday weekends, there’s hardly ever a wait for the lifts when they are all open. Squaw is great for beginners and advanced skiers alike.

But if you’re a summer lover, summer in Lake Tahoe can be even more beautiful! Every year I spend 4-5 weeks up at my place during the summer and fall for a writing retreat. I love to hike and there are scenic trails all around. 

Ever since the global pandemic began, the private jet market has been booming. But as a financially savvy person, you might wonder how much does it cost to fly private? Further, are there any cost-efficient ways to fly private? 

Flying private is one luxury that can improve your life once you become rich. No more long security lines. No more sitting next to a massive smelly person who takes up your arm rest. You won’t ever have to panic about missing your flight either.

You don’t have to be a billionaire to fly private either. A regular personal finance enthusiast who saves and invests 50% of his or her money for 25+ years will probably do. Don’t confuse the ability to fly private with the ability to own a private jet. Owning a private jet is a different stratosphere of wealth.

If you can make it in Hawaii, you can make it anywhere. This saying is a play on an old saying, “If you can make it in New York, you can make it anywhere.”

The idea is that with New York City being so competitive, only the strongest survive. I worked on the trading floor at one of the most hardcore investment banks around and I can unequivocally tell you that making it in NYC is brutal.

The weather beats you up for at least six months a year, the work hours are long, and your money doesn’t go very far.

Two years and 15 pounds heavier I left NYC in 2001 for an easier life out in San Francisco where I didn’t know a soul. I thoroughly admit I didn’t make it in NYC.

Perhaps I could have stayed on as a third year financial analyst, but surely Goldman would have made me go back to business school afterward rather than promote me directly to Associate. The thought of returning to school at the time and spending all that money wasn’t appealing.

By spring 2001 it was clear the economy was not in good shape one year after the NASDAQ collapsed. I decided to take matters into my own hands and jump to a competitor for that Associate promotion and raise instead.

Waiting to get let go is like waiting to die.

If there’s one recommendation I can confidently give to you all, it’s that you should never risk your life for money!

Back in 2002, something crazy happened that I will never forget. It was 10pm and I had just arrived at my hotel in Beijing. Having slept on the plane for 10 hours straight, I was more awake than a hooting owl.

My client wasn’t due to arrive until the next morning, so I dropped off my bags and went for a stroll. I had been to Beijing before as a study abroad student in 1997, but this was my first time out alone in this particular area of the city.

Does anybody sleep? I kept thinking, as the roads were jammed with side-stalls of people eating dumplings and pork-topped rice dishes. It seemed as if every other place I walked past was a dive bar inhabited by strange European tourists. Sanlitun (三里屯) was alive and kicking!

After about an hour of happy, mindless meandering through alleyways, I was struck all at once by an awful realization: I had no idea where I was. Drat! How was I supposed to get back to the hotel? What was worse: I was no longer inhaling the heady aromas of stale beer and beef broth with delight.

The air had suddenly turned sour as I noticed several shady-looking guys peeing beside a dilapidated stone wall nearby. Worse still, as soon as they were done they started heading my way, one guy barking obscenities. I looked over my shoulder–  perhaps he was yelling at some other luckless trespasser? Nope, it was me. Fudge…