Thursday, June 20, 2013

Never get haute after the spa…

Thinking it would be a “June Gloom” weekend and I wouldn’t see much sun, I did a super aggressive skin peel last Friday night. (No sun and no hot yoga for at least 24 hours after a peel)! Of course, to my dismay it turned out to be a beautiful, spankin’-sunny Saturday morning when I woke up, so to avoid the sun I decided to take my son to an indoor gymboree-type place to play. All was well until he and his friends convinced me to engage in their 5-year-old play… I ended up attempting a backwards somersault. Needless to say, five days later and four Motrins a day, I have thrown in the towel and decided to go see Gina at the shop for an hour-and-a-half massage. Still, the way I see it, I may not be able to move my neck, but at least my skin looks awesome!

**Speaking of hot yoga, this week a client came in for a Brazilian wax and asked if she could go to Haute Yoga (www.hauteyoga.com) for an hour-and-a-half-long class afterward. Of course, my response was absolutely not! She left quite irritated — it could have been my answer to her question, or it could have been a delayed response to her Brazilian. Regardless, the moral of the story is this: no jacuzzis or hot yoga for at least 24 hours after a Brazilian bikini wax!

Tuesday, June 4, 2013

Brotherly Love


Today I am not writing about peels, eyebrows , skin, or permanent makeup; instead I am writing about my little brother and his triumphant, inspirational story. (Note that we did apply our SPF 45 Organic Coola Sport Sunscreen before we tackled Cardiac Hill– this sunscreen rocks!)
In July of 2010, my brother Danny injured his carotid artery while kite surfing, had a stroke, and almost died. He was in the ICU for two weeks, and his recovery period included tasks like re-learning how to swallow, speak, and walk. The right side of his body was paralyzed, which is less-than-ideal for a right-handed doctor such as himself.

Since the accident, my brother has become my greatest hero and my greatest inspiration. He attends therapy six days per week, but his gratitude permeates his being. His sense of humor is infectious, and his response to my mundane whines are always, ” Be happy, I am, I am alive. ” His priorities have been revived and simplified to include a full recovery (his goal is one more year), his two children, family, and friends. When together, we laugh and we cry more than we ever have. His path is clear, his eyes are bright, and his semblance glows. Overall, life is good.