Day 74: Detox Cocoa Yoga.

Posted on May 13, 2012 by LaLa

Help!  I’ve fallen and I can’t get up!

This past week can only be described as self-indulgent, and I must admit, I’ve enjoyed every single, decadent minute of it!  But there comes a time when you need to pay the piper, and today, that reckoning arrived.  Well… eventually, it did.  I mean, my life has never been straightforward, so why should it start now?

The day began with a lazy morning, lollygagging around the house, in a slight post-wine induced fog.  My visiting high school friends left shortly after lunch, at the same time that another good buddy arrived, in search of something I am always more than happy to provide:  an opinion.

See, she is getting married later this summer, and found herself with a bit of a dress conundrum.  Needless to say, as one of my good friends, she is obviously brilliant and quirky, so a traditional dress was completely out of the question.  Yet, she had seen one that was dangerously teetering on the brink of being a gown that she thought she might like more than the dynamite number she had already purchased.  This led to my first new thing of the day: going wedding dress shopping for a non-wedding dress.

After helping to get that dilemma sorted, I descended upon some close family members who had purchased a pre-loved boat last year to see how it was faring back in the water.  Of course, Mr. Champers insisted upon coming along, because otherwise, the cheese and crackers would be ever so lonely, and nobody wants to make a blue cheese even bluer.  Oh, the humanity!  It all made for a lovely afternoon indeed, which was nothing at all like the SNL digital short (uncensored), linked here, for your amusement.  You’re welcome.

SNL Digital Short: I’m on a Boat (did I mention uncensored?)

Back home, I searched high and low, but found that I had completely run out of excuses.  It was finally time for my second new thing of the day, which was to activate the 2-week unlimited ‘Around the Club Tour’ pass that I had purchased for $20 at energyXchange.  This is the self-described ‘un-gym’ where I will purportedly find the Evolution of Exercise, along with the occasional class held on their rooftop patio, plus a plethora of therapists from Physiomed.  Thankfully, Sundays are pretty slow there, so I was able to have a good long chat with the girl at the desk, who was so sympathetic to my anti-gym ways, that she even gave me a nice, soothing cup of organic super chocolate tea from their David’s Tea selection.  Bless!

Did someone say chocolate?

Now, you would think that after having completed 30 consecutive days of hot yoga that I would have remembered to bring my yoga mat and water bottle with me… yet you would be mistaken.  But don’t knock my uber-short-term memory, as it is my own dirty little secret to happiness most of the time, so it’s all good.  I was able to rent a mat at the front desk, in plenty of time for my final new thing of the day, which was to join the evening yoga class called ‘Om Sweet Om: Detox Cocoa Sundays’.

Mmmmm… chocolate!

It was a fairly straightforward and relaxing yoga session, which lived up to its description by focusing on the most detoxifying poses in a pleasantly warmed room.  Where does the sweet and cocoa part come in, you may be wondering?  Well, this manifested itself in two ways that I could perceive.  Firstly, during the final cool-down meditation pose, we received a brief, individual aromatherapy massage of the temples tenderly administered by our instructor.  And secondly, at the very end of class, we were treated to a delicious, handmade, gourmet chocolate, courtesy of Ambiance Chocolat, from across the street.  Okay, fine, if I must… But purely for the extra anti-oxidant benefits to help cope with the (not-so) gruelling week ahead!  Namaste.

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Day 73: Get a Reiki Massage.

Posted on May 12, 2012 by LaLa

Some dear friends from high school were visiting me from out of town for the weekend.  We had a bit of a slow start to the day due to the previous night’s shenanigans, yet we still managed to enjoy a leisurely brunch on a nearby patio, before miraculously arriving a touch early to the grandiose Spa at the Elmwood.  Oh, the hardship!

Being somewhat of a spa enthusiast, I was delighted to find something new to me on the list of available treatments: namely, a Reiki massage.  Now, I’ll be perfectly honest, having been raised in the school of ‘no pain, no gain’, the concept of a potentially hands-free rub down struck me as a considerable waste of money.  But then I remembered to bring a gift card that I had received at Christmas, and an open mind, so it was all good.

We began our stay by frolicking in the water therapies, which consisted of a unisex steam room, hot tub, and pool, followed by another steam room, hot tub and rain showers in the recently renovated women’s change room.  Sigh…  We then dragged our already jello mellowed bodies to our respective appointments, where I met my practitioner, David.  He seemed very wise beyond his twenty-something years, with a pleasant demeanour and healthy sense of humour, as he patiently and cleverly answered my barrage of questions.  I liked him immediately.

I learned that Reiki has a surprisingly wide variety of factions that all fall under two major branches: Traditional Japanese Reiki, and Western Reiki.  The major difference is that the Western version follows a pre-set pattern of hand positions, rather than an intuitive skill of merely knowing where the hands should be placed.  David further explained that the hands-on or hands-off decision is really an individual preference of the therapist, but that the hands-on approach, which he uses, seems to be the more effective of the two.

We began with me lying face down, trying hard not to squish my mink eyelashes on the headrest.  He positioned his suddenly blazing hot hands on the top of my head, also known as the crown chakra.  After a few minutes, he moved them slowly down my meridian line, pausing over each of my other 6 major chakras.  This was then repeated with me lying on my back.  He gave me ample warning, checking in with me prior to each change in hand position.  Interestingly, he also mentioned that my throat chakra seemed to draw his hand to it like a magnet, which was consistent with something my tantra instructor had highlighted.  Hmm… Maybe there was something to this after all.

We had a few minutes left towards the end of the session, since, besides my throat, I seemed to have fairly decent energy alignment, thanks in no small part to my newly stress-free lifestyle, so David took the opportunity to do a little deep tissue work on my sore neck.  Ah, sweet relief!  While the Reiki had inexplicably felt wonderful, I can’t say that it delivered nearly the same results as a good old-fashioned kneading.  But maybe that’s just me.

Reiki is defined as a spiritual practice, that transfers universal energy for self-healing and equilibrium from the practitioner to the recipient; however, from a scientific perspective, its benefits are still unproven, although it has never been shown to cause any ill effects.  The word Reiki has been translated as anything from ‘mysterious atmosphere’, to ‘universal life energy’.  In Ireland, most people would simply call it ‘jiggery-pokery’, but even if it only delivers a placebo effect, there is no real harm in that.

The most surprising thing I learned, besides the fact that Reiki can trigger emotional releases, was that it can also be done remotely – we’re talking even across the country!  This is known as ‘distant healing’.  David himself has done this, and admits it sounds a little crazy, but we are all connected, and it seems to work.  I simply focused on keeping my mind open to the concept.  Later on, I read more about some of the practice’s major principles, which include: inviting happiness, not being angry, not worrying, being grateful, working with diligence, being kind, and praying with an open heart.  Don’t worry, be happy?  Yep, I like the sound of that.  Don’t mind if I do.

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Day 72: Get a Spray-on Tan.

Posted on May 11, 2012 by LaLa

Presumably this is the voice of the booth.

Frugal Fridays made a reappearance today with yet another voucher redemption.  Hurrah!  I found myself at Afterglo Tan Bar, near Yonge and Bloor, to try my first ever That’so Organic Spray-on Tan (I paid $25 for two sessions; regular value $70).  For some strange reason, this just seemed like the natural choice to round out my self-imposed beauty week.

Now, I am not your typical tanner.  In fact, far from it.  My love for all things shiny makes it difficult for me to simply lie on a beach for hours on end worshiping the sun in an attempt to reach a specific shade of bronze.  I have fair skin that will eventually go a nice golden colour over the course of daily exposure during regular activities, like sitting on patios with pints, but this is almost always preceded by a couple of rounds of burning and peeling over the course of the summer.  C’est la vie.

I did try a tanning bed once, on the advice of my roommate at the time, who was about as fair as I was.  We were planning a trip to Brazil in the middle of winter, and we were both paler than Casper.  The theory was that it would help to alleviate the third degree burns that were patiently awaiting our arrival, to maybe first or second degree.  It was hard to judge which would be worse for spurring on melanoma.  So we went and lied in the luminescent berths, and the experience left me less than thrilled with the results.

More recently, having lived in Ireland for the past two years, I was fascinated by the ritual of the fake tan that preceded most formal events there, to which a significant portion of the women would arrive with a decidedly carrot-coloured glow.  I could never quite figure out if these were just the tans that came from a bottle, or if these hues were actually sprayed or baked on, but it was clearly not the look I was going after.

So it was with some trepidation that I entered the tanning salon, and tried to drink in all of the important information that was being sprinkled at me.  I was assured that the ingredients in the spray were all natural and organic, and that the actual application would take a grand total of about six seconds.  I was also instructed to use the cream that was provided to coat my fingernails, soles of my feet, and any other areas that probably should not be tanned, like in between my fingers and toes.  I was then given a hairnet to wear, and told to listen to the woman’s voice who would guide me through the rest of the procedure.  Oh crap.  Listening, but more importantly, remembering, is not exactly my forte.

Almost as an afterthought, just before the girl closed the door leaving me alone with the imposing sun booth, she casually mentioned that I should remember to hold my breath, close my mouth, clench my eyes tightly shut, stand on the foot pads, keep my knees slightly bent, my arms out with elbows bent with hands hanging down, while I slowly rotated back and forth as soon as I pressed the start button.  Um, come again?  Then I should turn around, repeat the stance and motion, before the air drying cycle would commence, which I could trigger ad nauseum until my skin felt sufficiently parched to put my clothes back on.  Right.

I quickly decided to purchase a tiny pair of tanning goggles which just sat on the bridge of my nose, as the thought of getting this stuff in my eyes, organic or not, made me shudder.  This turned out to be $4 unwisely spent, as about 1 second after the spray session began, they fell off my face.  I tried to remember the rest of the tips that I was given to achieve the perfect glow, as I attempted to listen to the eerily soothing woman’s voice emanating from the machine.  Mercifully, it was indeed over rather quickly, at which point, I wiped off the spots where I had applied the cream, got redressed, and washed my hands.

After emerging from my private room, the girl at the counter informed me that the colour would continue to deepen every hour, and that, once I was happy with the shade, I should bathe, which would stop the darkening.  WTF?!!?  I had numerous errands lined up that would keep me from getting home to shower for at least several hours.  Doh!

Ah well, it turns out I needn’t have worried, as the level 1 (of 3) that I chose to have applied was the lightest, which resulted in an almost natural looking golden colour that I might achieve myself by say mid-June.  The only real hiccup in the day occurred when I decided to enjoy the glorious sunshine by walking between my various tasks, which resulted in a good old-fashioned light pink sunburn on my exposed skin.  Oops… So, in the end, I did manage to acquire a nice, albeit not exactly healthy, glow that evening, which was the original goal, so it’s all good… Ish.  Here are the before and after shots I took; can you spot the difference?

  

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Day 71: Martinis and Manicures.

Posted on May 10, 2012 by LaLa

Multi-tasking done right.

Today was just another thrifty Thursday, and I found myself with a couple of vouchers burning a hole in my pocket.  In keeping with what has turned out to be beauty week, LeLa and I cashed them in for a couple of Martinis and Manicures on the second floor inside The Vic (formerly Fuzion Lounge) on Church Street, just north of Wellesley.  Finally!  I mean, why did it take so long to come up with the genius idea of combining spa treatments with cocktails?  Leave it to the Village people to blaze this trail.

Sex and the City, anyone?

We got the most important decision out of the way first: namely, to choose our poison. I opted for a red fruity drink, while LeLa went for one made with grapefruit juice.  Both were remarkably tasty and delicious!  Although somehow, mine seemed to mysteriously evaporate rather quickly, but no need to panic, they replenished it just in time.  Next, we sat ourselves down on some cube lounge seats where we could lean against the wall with an unobstructed view of the plasma TV that was looping through episodes of Sex and The City.  The shiny disco ball hanging from the lounge ceiling completed the ambience perfectly.  Let the pampering begin!

Mmmmm… Food.  Don’t mind if I do!

We had the place to ourselves, not counting the bartender who occasionally lent his braun to our manicurist, Rebecca, to help open a few of the nail polish bottles, and who also thoughtfully brought us over some straws on napkins to help us sip our cocktails more easily, bless him.  Seriously, this was the VIP treatment all the way!  Just when we didn’t think it could any better, the kitchen brought us each a huge platter of appetizers, including yummy onion rings, Spanish mixed olives, little cubes of fried mac ‘n cheese, grilled asparagus, and bruschetta.  What a yummy surprise, which was also probably a smart move, given the burgeoning amount of booze in our bellies.

Now, I need to be honest – this was an ‘express’ manicure – not the full spa service kind, and it would not be what you would want for your wedding or anything, but that’s not exactly the point here.  It was a fun way to start the evening, with a chance to feel a little indulgent while catching up with Carrie, Samantha, Charlotte and Miranda.  Oh, and of course, your own gal pals.  Our hostess, Rebecca, was simply delightful, to boot.  She provided LeLa with an awesome shade of dark blue for her fingertips, and even gave me a French manicure finish for no extra charge.  What’s not to like!  Would I do it again?  Hello!  Cocktails are included.  Of course I would!!

I then stumbled into a taxi, and headed to a charity Lobsterfest dinner for St. Felix Centre, held in the parish hall of St. Patrick’s church on MacCaul at Dundas.  With an open bar, plenty of munchies, followed by a sit-down three-course meal, good times were definitely had by all.  On top of that, I got to keep our table’s centrepiece, which consisted of a felt boat with a few lights on it, but, more importantly, it was garnished with a giant inflatable lobster that I affectionately nicknamed Pinchy, in tribute to Homer Simpson’s short-lived pet, and which will be the perfect decoration at my party tomorrow night.  This thrifty Thursday turned out to be terrific!  Life can truly be wonderful when you let it.  Cheers to that!

Pinchy! How I’ve missed you!!

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Day 70: Get Hot Pink Streaks.

Posted on May 9, 2012 by LaLa

Gentlemen prefer blondes with pink streaks.

My recent case of spring fever (okay, early mid-life crisis) continued to blossom right into the hair salon.  I’ve been going to see my bestest hair stylist and colourist, Reni, for, like, ever, and, today, we decided to shake things up a bit and gave me a couple of hot pink streaks on one side of my head, because, well, why the heck not.  I mean, I looked up and saw Marilyn sultrily pouting back at me, almost taunting to see if I had the kahunas.  You know what, doll face?  Challenge accepted!

Tinfoil. Not just for anti-conspiracy hats any longer.

In France, I had seen several confident women older than myself with colourful sections interspersed amidst their coiffes, and they just struck me as so chic, but with a certain sassy edge… well, what’s not to like?  Besides, it’s just hair.  It’ll grow out… Eventually.  And almost certainly by the time I decide to put this delightful life of leisure back on hold once again.  So away we went, further down the rabbit hole, all the way under the hot air dryer, just like in Steel Magnolias or Sleeping With the Enemy, except with a lot less Julia.

The first step in the process involved bleaching the chunks of my hair that would be so lucky as to receive the hot pink colour, to maximize its vibrancy.  Excellent!  No going back now… A short stint under the dome was superseded by the sublime shampoo and scalp massage, which is always the highlight of the salon experience for me.  Pure bliss!

100% naturally flamingo free!

And then, it was time.  Bring on the Pretty Flamingo hair dye, which just so happened to be almost a perfect match for my Strawberry Margarita toenail polish.  I’m thinking whoever came up with the names for these colours was drinking a pretty potent batch at the time, and I’d like to know where I can apply for that job!?!?

It was at this delicate point in the process that I decided to ask my girl Reni a few questions, because, well, better late than never, right?  The name of the product line was Fudge Paintbox.  That’s right, she was packing the tinfoil on my head with Fudge, which is apparently available in a rainbow of completely unnatural shades, including Blue Velvet, Raspberry Beret, Green Envy, Cherry Bomb, and Gold Finger.  I couldn’t help but giggle, and completely forgot the rest of my questions.

Just like paint by numbers.  Only different.

I then spent more quality time with the hot air dome, and, before I knew it, it was time for another rinse, followed by the big reveal.  Sweet mother of gawd!  Even soaking wet, there was no mistaking the fact that the pink in my hair was hot!  At which point, Reni breathed a teensy sigh of relief, and confessed that it was actually the first time she had used that particular product line, and thanked me for being her guinea pig.  Doh!  Fair enough, I should have asked.  Ah well, she’s awesome with colour, so I wouldn’t have worried anyway…  Much.

Princess of Punk?

Finally, we moved back to her chair for a phenomenal cut and blow dry, and I must say, I am thrilled with the results!  I needed a little oomph, and this more than delivered.

The best part?  Walking down the street afterwards, taking the subway, and meeting up with a few people that I knew.  Sure, there were a few gawks along the way, but mostly, there was respect, and even a little extra cushion of safety distance for all the crazy that clearly surrounded my hair.  Oh, this is gonna be good…  It kinda makes me wanna shout, and kick my heels up!  But not necessarily in that order, because, you know, I gotta be me.

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