The other day, I went to a salt cave, which apparently has healing properties. So, I guess you can say I got cured in salt. After which, I got a massage – Thai style.

Well put me on the menu, because I sound like a tasty dish – or at least a cheesy one.

That said, if you’re not in the mood for cheese, but perhaps more in the mood for a day of relaxation, you too could try a trip to a salt cave.

As a Sambassador for Samba Days gift experiences, I’ve tried many things: ziplining, haute cuisine, DJing wiki-wiki-style, bed and breakfasting, flying a plane dangerously close to the CN Tower … So as you can certainly appreciate, I desperately needed a little pampering. And when getting pampered, why not bring along the lady who used to change your poopy Pampers.

Sometimes I wonder if Samba Days should be called Date Nights. Because if it weren’t for them, I don’t know if my husband and I would ever go on a date.

To be fair, I don’t always call going out with my husband a date.

If, for instance, we’re just going to one of our regular joints for supper, is that really a date? Or is it just a night that I’m not cooking supper?

Put down the straightening cream, step away from that flat iron, and come join me as I declare October to be …

Natural Locks’tober!

It is estimated that more than 65% of women have naturally curly or wavy hair. According to observation, the numbers appear much less.

The multi-billion-dollar hair-straightening market (in the U.S. alone) helps hide this, but it doesn’t mean it’s not there.

By a show of hands, how many of you need a break?

See, I don’t even need to see your hands, and I still know that about 90% of you need to get away, another 9% need to finally admit to yourselves that you need to get away, and the rest of you – the 1% – well, you can get away at the drop of a $1000-bill.

Now I’ve wanted to go on vacation for so long, but never really had the time, until, as a Sambassador for Samba Days, I was offered a Gourmet Getaway. And so I cleared 36 hours from my schedule, because everyone needs a 36-hour vacation.

I often say my hair is more of a landmark than a style.

People know me for my hair. When it’s pulled back, it’s almost as if I’m incognito.

Blonde (and blonder) corkscrew curls seem to burst out of my head from every direction – controlled  chaos. I don’t try to control how my hair lands, but I do try to control how big it goes.

You know, the bigger the taller. After all, I’m only five-feet, well five-four if you include my hair.

Samba Days gave me an Action and Adventure gift experience. So I decided to fly a plane over Toronto, perhaps making it more of an experience for the city of Toronto. And I may or may not have flown illegally close to the CN Tower. Watch.