When a study confirms your worst fear

Remember this post and this post ? Well, the results are in: Scientists have actually confirmed my greatest fear: Being in a happy relationship is making you fat.

https://theheartysoul.com/being-in-a-happy-relationship-is-making-you-fat-scientist-confirms/

“Apparently, being in a happy relationship is making you fat…I sincerely wish I had this important piece of information before marrying my awesome husband. I would have insisted on marrying my prick of an ex and being miserable and skinny for life.”

BUT. There’s always a BUT, if you happen to belong to that select group of people who are extremely vain and I am talking Kim Kardashian type of vain, there’s hope, you may be able to have your cake and eat it too. As a Libra, I do believe I have all the prerequisites to ease into that category. Funnily enough Kim is also a Libra (please correct me if I am wrong).

Lately, I have been wanting more and more to regain a healthier version of the body I used to have. Honestly, I don’t want things they way they used to be. I don’t want to go back to being single and skinny mainly because my body refuse to fit back into that old mold and also things are so so good right now. I am content. I just want to be fit at whatever weight I am at. That’s all. So right now I am trying to get back to weight lifting and eating healthy and balanced meals and not use the weekends to go on a food rampage but to reconnect with good wholesome food.

What about you dear reader? Have you noticed something similar in your relationships? Do you tend to put on weight when you’re in a happy relationship? I can’t be the only one:)

Happiness is a state of mind

“You never know how good you have it until you don’t…Happiness is a question of perspective.”

Can you remember moments in your life when you had everything to be happy but somehow you weren’t?

I myself can remember loads of moments in my life when I did have everything to be happy but I just refused to play along and be happy. I insisted on being miserable. In my life it’s always when looking back I often realized that I was indeed happy in a specific moment. Happiness is a question of perspective. My mom used to always say: No matter how hard things get they can still get worst so enjoy the bad cause it may all change for the worst before you realize it. I used to think that was so pessimistic. Whenever she would say such things, I would hurry to cut her off with the usual:” Mom you’re ruining my fun!”.  But now that I am older I am forced to realize mom may have been up to something besides trying to ruin my fun.

EXHIBIT A:

In this pic, I was at my skinniest. Probably the skinniest I’ll ever be. But still I was not ahappy.

“To get that skinny level again, I’d actually need to cut off limbs which quite frankly I am not prepared to do.”

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What I did: I spent most of my time stressing over things I had absolutely no control over.

What I should have done instead: Pull out all of my old clothes from my 20’s and try the hell out of them with pics to boot.

EXHIBIT B:

Take that other pic for instance with me standing holding a bag of popcorn…. (not my brightest hour, I know…).

“I looked like a snack in this pic but felt like a big bowl of mashed potatoes”

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“I looked like a snack but felt like a big bowl of mashed potatoes”

In retrospect, I look damn well perfect but believe me I still wasn’t happy  with my size.  I thought I was fat. I remember agonizing over wearing that pair short thinking to myself I had gained way too much weight. I can’t believe I thought I was fat. If that’s not insanity,  I don’t know what is.

But then again it’s not just with my weight I do that, I also do that with plenty of areas in my life, always waiting for that future when I’ll finally be perfect and have everything I have ever wanted, forgetting in the process that I, not too long ago, was very much wishing and praying for what I do have now. I can’t promise I’ll change overnight but it is definitely an uphill battle I am willing to fight:).

What about you dear readers? I am sure I am not alone in this, feel free to share:)

The importance of being nagged: The key to motivation

“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

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!

Ensuring your happiness: Asking for what you want

”…If there was ever an Oscar for insisting on telling me what I absolutely don’t want to hear, I believe my family members would win it.’

I believe in establishing protocols for recurring activities, especially when other people are involved and by other people I specifically mean family members.

Why? Well, because this group of people tend to be high risk meaning they have the tendency of telling the thruth combined with a very low tolerance for bullshit. If there was ever an Oscar for insisting on telling me what I absolutely don’t want to hear, I believe my family members would win it. This can be grating long term, especially in days when I really need to be happy. Which can explain why I usually go to great pain to establish some kind of protocol when dealing with the special people in my life.

Situation no 1:

When Me and hubby are watching TV.

Context: So we are watching some random TV show and a super hot chick shows up in a random scene. My jealousy gets the best of me and I start bashing her (I know I should take the high road but I just can’t seem to, so I am allowing myself to wallow in despicable behaviours).

Me: ”Oh my God she is way too skinny….”

The hypocrisy! Considering I just can’t seem to lose these last pesky 10 5 pounds and the said woman is pretty perfect.

Husband: ”Complete silence

Me: ”She’s too muscular….”. Did you hear what I just said?

Hubby: ”I did! What do you want me to say?”

Me: ”Well, let’s see…you could start by saying that she is way too skinny and that I am hotter than she’ll ever be.”

Hubby: ”You’re kidding, right?”

Me: ”Okay, new protocol alert: When a super hot girl shows up on the screen and I bash her, you have to reassure me and bash her in equal measure…if not more.”

Hubby: ”Are you serious!!!?? You’re impossible!”

Me ”But you love me, don’t you?”

Hubby: ”Yes, honey, you’re the most beautiful woman on the planet and I do love you”.

Me: ”I am touched! Thank you honey, I love you too ”.

Situation no 2

I am out shopping with my beloved ”foot-in-mouth husband”.

Context: The sun is shining and I am feeling lucky. I am at one of my favourite stores and I am grabbing stuff for the changing room. Of course, I only pick medium sizes (I used to be a size small but lately being human just won’t let me go back to that sizeOf course, if you ask my husband, he won’t stick to that story).

By now I am heading to the changing room and start trying stuff on. Dear husband, ever the good Samaritan, comes running all helpful and hands me some sizes.

Hubby: ”Here honey!”

Me: ”But these are all large sizes…”

Hubby: ”Yes, I know, just in case….”

Me: ”Oh you mean just in case I forgot I was fat?

As you can see the poor man can’t win here.

Hubby: No, no, it is just that sometimes a larger size may look better!

Of course, like most people whose sole desire is to do good, he is forced to explain himself as if doing good demanded an explanation of some sort. But we all know in the real world, doing good comes with heavy consequences....

Me: :Well, I am not here to look better, I am here to feel better…”

Hubby: ”What? But?”

Me: ”Quick memo: when I am in the changing room, you are only to bring me sizes ranging from small to medium and nothing else.”

His eyes ran quickly up and down the dress I was trying. And yes, I was spilling out of it.

I stared at him for a long, long time and took a very deep breath.

Me: ”And yes, I don’t care if I look like an overstuffed sausage.”

The man seemed lost and I don’t blame him. But sometimes feeling better is more important than looking better. Don’t you agree?

So like I was saying if you want to be happy, you have to ask for it, you have to let them know how you like it. Nobody can read your mind and even if somebody could, they wouldn’t because people are naturally self-centered.

What about you, dear readers? Please tell me I am not the only who does that or I’ll feel like a self-centered little person.

Thank you for passing by and Bisoux.

Big love is fattening

They say love is two people looking in the same direction. I’ll add one more thing: love is two people steadily gaining weight together. If that’s the case me and hubby we are madly, terribly in love. We’ve been steadily gaining weight since our first encounter some four and half years ago and I have pictures to prove it.

This is me around the time I met my husband…..If you ask my husband I was just hungry and lonely, lol

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If you ask me this is the best I’ve ever looked. Skinny with no hair. Some haters would say I look like a boy about to hit puberty but I don’t care. While I was parading thinking I was the hottest thing since slice bread dear husband was desperate for me to put a bit of meat on those bones.

Our gaining weight together time line:

1) Our second date…as you can see I dressed to impress…

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2) Our first Christmas together

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3) Hubby feeling himself…

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4) me feeling myself….

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5) and finally the end ….

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Well, well, well, I’d say we’re busting out of happiness:) we have to keep it in check so if you’re in a relationship and you’re now double your weight consider yourself happy! It is understood  that we must do something soon or we wont make it to our 10 year anniversary.

 

My first time…First dates and the lies we tell

My first time meeting my now husband

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I was talking to my husband the other day. He had been pestering me for weeks about my book and my posting more often on this space:

Husband: “When are you going to finish that book of yours?”

Me: “Soon….I have to rework the entire thing…I have plenty of ideas…you know…”

Husband: “That’s not what you said on our first date….”

Surprised he would even remember, I laughed. He laughed in return.

Me: “Well, we both said things that did not turn out to be quite true…you for example…”

Husband:”No, I did not lie!”

Me: “Do you really remember our first date the exact way it happened or is this just your favorite version of it?”

We both smiled……

First dates and the lies we tell….I remember our first date like it was yesterday. We met at a coffee shop, a second cup to be exact. I told myself a coffee shop is safe, if he turns out to be a total dick I can escape quickly and call it a narrow escape. To be frank, I don’t remember half the stuff he said. I was way too busy rehearsing my half-baked truths. You’d think I was preparing to take a lie detector test or something:

Future husband: “So what do you do, if you don’t mind me asking”

I spit out a sentence so basic in its simplicity and so encompassing, it could make you puke. A sentence that means nothing and everything. If you say that kind of sentence in a penetrated way and you happen well-dressed, you’re pretty much guaranteed to appear intelligent.

Me: “Well, I took some time off of work to finish a project that’s very close to my heart.”

A little bit of silence to let my tortured artist essence penetrate every fiber of his being. I am not just anybody, I have a big hairy audacious goal that I am working towards and you better take notice, you mere mortal. Being out of work for a good six months with bills piling up was in no way as glamorous or enticing as I made it look. I was on a very efficient diet: Noodles with a side of stress. I was working on the book as a way to escape the stress.

Me:”I am currently working on a novel….”

Future husband: “Cool….what is it about?”

Me: “Well, it’s about having the courage to follow your dream and not let society dictate who you are and who you can be”.

At this point I could not resist a proud grin. The sort of grin you have when you just aced a school exam because you studied hard. Now that I’ve aced the first few minutes and established myself as a woman of substance worth pursuing, it was my turn to ask questions. So I begin, in a relaxed way.

Me:” I am sorry I was so focused on myself. What about you? I mean I saw on your e-harmony profile that you work in video game. Any side project?

Future husband: ” I am currently working an an album with a singer friend of mine. We have a couple of roughly edited songs…”

I didn’t hear anything he said after that simply because I was off to soulmate land.

I could already see myself flying on private jets, walking around in expensive sunglasses and bags looking slightly out of touch and bitchy. To me this was a match made in heaven. Two creatively driven individuals getting together as one in order to fuel each other’s dreams. (Insert David Bowie and Iman emoji here. I’ll wait).

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Needless to say that’s not how it all turned out.

He discovered my real dream was to live like the favorite pet of billionaire, spoiled and entirely provided for and I discovered that while he does have a couple of roughly edited song, he only works on that album every full moon. I discovered it was pointless to jump his back every time there’s a job opening in a faraway land and he learned not to be offended by the amount of time I spend in front of a mirror. He learned to be patient when I complain over and over about things I can but refuse to change and I learn to laugh on demand at his favorite jokes no matter how many times I’ve heard them. As you can see a match made in heaven.

I am learning daily the true meaning of loving somebody for exactly who they are and not what we want them to be because sometimes what we want them to be is not necessarily what they want to be. At some point we have to accept that.

Overall, we found love because we’re married now 🙂

What about you dear readers? I would love to hear about your personal stories and hide it all turned out. Gros bisous!