Month: March 2019

The importance of being nagged: The key to motivation

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“Finding your passion is not enough, you’re also gonna need someone to nag the hell out of you when you try to quit”.

I was talking to a friend the other day and she was noticing how constant I have been with publishing on the blog lately. After thanking her profusely and gobbling down the compliment I was forced to come clean and admit it had more to do with the constant nagging of my husband rather than any new found sense of purpose on my part.

Thinking back I now curse that day I jumped the man’s back and accused him of not helping me accomplish my “purpose” (here’s that word again, a favorite of tortured artists the world over…). I accused him of not supporting me in setting up the blog you guys now know as the FFliles. And supporting me he did. I am still paying for that moment of temporary insanity. My husband nags me day and night about producing blog posts.

” People often say that motivation doesn’t last. Well, neither does bathing. That’s why we recommend it daily. “ Zig Ziglar

I am at a stage now where I can’t even go home without being interrogated about the state of my ambition and discipline.  Napping on weekends is out of the question since that time could obviously be used to get a head start on future blog posts. It’s like living with my parents all over again except this time I have no hope of ever getting out. That is unless, of course I am willing to go back on e-harmony and recruit another husband. Which quite frankly I don’t want to do. So I am left with  the only option of producing content under inhumane threats. The latest of those threats: No new blog post, no brunching at Mirazu. If you read my post on Mirazu, you can gauge how cruel that was! Hopefully, you’ll be inspired to say a little prayer for me lol.

The second cruelest thing he did to me was every single time I try to give him advice about his career, he asks me about the publication date of my next blog post. This is the cruelest thing you can do to a Libra person considering giving unwanted advice to loved ones is one of our favorite sport.

On Saturdays, I used to go to one of my favorite coffee shop and pretend that I am working on my current “project” which usually involves spending the entire day jumping from one idea to the next like a rabbit with a serious attention deficit; well, no more of that.  My husband simply won’t have it. Now, if I don’t text him to confirm a blog post has been published before leaving said coffee shop, my weekend is ruined.

Lately, he’s been inquiring about the book I am “supposedly writing” (his exact words) and trying to give me deadlines and such. I can now say without reserve this may be the cause of my recent night sweats. Although I consider myself a very strong person, I don’t think I can survive being nagged for both the blog and the draft of my book. Of course, another option would be to do what I promised myself I would do as part of my “revamping my life” effort at the beginning of the year. Which is what I’ve been trying to do lately.

And to think all this time I was paying a coach while all I had to do was getting my husband on my case by accusing him of “not supporting my dreams.” Who would have thought? Incredible but true…..

Thank you for passing by and Bisous!

Best brunches in Montreal: Mirazu

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The Mirazu

What it is: A Turkish style restaurant that serves Middle-Eastern type of dishes located in the Mile-End neighborhood of Montreal.

“Wear loose clothing and reserve the rest of the day for a food coma”

What they serve: Things you wished your grandmother made you for breakfast instead of pestering your mom about how to raise you.

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The Gurme in all its glory….(hubby’s favorite)

The making of the dough: Bread is made on the spot, right under your eyes.

Watching those dutiful angels of mercy below working through the dough verges on meditation. You feel like you’ve been chosen to partake in a sacred ritual that’s been passed down from generation to generation. The words dedication, respect and tradition come to mind. 

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These angels don’t need wings, they make bread, that’s more than enough 🙂

A bit of back story on our brunch routine:

Before the restaurant:

Husband: “Okay, we’re gonna go there and we’re not going to eat any bread, right?”

Me: “Of course not! Why do you have to repeat this like I am deaf or something?

Husband: “Well, because the last time somebody promised the same thing but when I tried to stop them from digging in the bread basket, I almost lost a hand.”

Me: “What did you expect? You were getting between me and a fast-releasing dose of happiness!”

Husband: “How far some people will people go to justify their lack of discipline….”

Me: “This time will be different, honey, I promise”.

I said that with all the honesty my dishonest soul could muster. I could see he does not believe me. Heck, I don’t even believe my own damn self! It’s just one of those things you say so often it doesn’t mean anything anymore. Just like saying “I am fine” when somebody asks you how you’re doing. They don’t wait for the answer and we don’t thank them for asking. It is understood that they don’t care.

At the restaurant:

We get to the restaurant, head to our seats. Like secret lovers on a much needed break, we developed a ritual: first coffee and then orange juice closely followed by a session of hand kissing and staring into each other’ eyes. That is until the server drops the first bread basket with two round fluffy and buttery little buns. Then we become like animals when they eat: silent and deadly.

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“I am quite sure if somebody were to catch a pic of us eating they’d think we’re hunger games contestants catching a breather. “

For two people who swore a minute ago they didn’t want anything to do with bread, it’s kind of funny. At this point, I think we’ve developed a sort of silent understanding. If we wolf it down without any eye contact, it never happened.

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Our favorites: 

Pafik: A spinach and feta flat bread as an entree. Some people take it as a meal, we take it as an entree. They have different sort depending on your taste.

This is of course followed by the Gurme, their own version of egg benedict with delicious pieces of lamb with yogurt sauce on top with a side of fruit and freshly made potatoes.

There is also the Menenmen au Queli : An egg casserole with tomatoes, spices, beef and lamb. Super warming.

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Considering the huge amount of carbs we usually indulge in, we naturally vow to never come back again until of course the next time witch usually amounts to no more than two weeks.

Price point: Affordable, considering the service, ambiance and quality of food.

The staff: Discreet, friendly and courteous. The type who’ll bring you extra bread without charging extra.  The rare kind, as you can see.

Final advice: If your conscience tries to pay you a visit by reminding you how much of a pig you really are, shut it down with a power nap.

Don’t forget to comment, share and like this article to your heart content.

Gros bisoux and until next time!