Happy birthday to me: Turning a year older!

“If you ask me, there’s absolutely no need to be older than 40!”

Notice I did not give a specific age like I did HERE? I could have stated my age but, oh well, getting old does that to you. Those who don’t understand are either too young and  therefore secretly think they’re gonna stay young forever (like any self-respecting young person should) or way too old to care and therefore stopped counting.

“We’ll all have regrets at some point in our lives but some regrets weigh more than others. The key is to pick the regrets you’d rather have when the time comes.”

If you ask me, there’s absolutely no need to be older than 40, so I decided to stop counting. In all honesty I do look at least 10 years younger (Yes, I am delusional but it makes me happy). My husband also thinks I am delusional but the man is way too smart to come out and say it to my face so he completely avoids the subject even when I insist on knowing what he thinks, hence this conversation:

Me: “Honey, look at me! I feel like I haven’t aged at all. Don’t you think?

Hubby:” ______” (no sound…at all)

Me: “Honey?”

Hubby: “______” (not even a word…stops breathing…behaves like trapped animal)

Me: “Honey??!!

When I tell you this man is truly my soul mate. If he can’t tell me what I want to hear he has the courage to shut it. Of course I wished he would do that all the time but I don’t think it’s gonna happen.

I no longer look at “old” people like I’ll never get there one day because I am now fairly certain we all get old (about time!!???). What saddens me the most is that one day I’ll be that old woman sitting in a corner and cheering on a young woman, with a forced genuine smile and pretending I’ve lived my life 🙂

All in all, I’ve realized we’ll have regrets at some point in our lives but some regrets weigh more than others. So I have decided to make a list of the things I’d regret the most if I didn’t do them and start working on that list with all of my strength.

That’s all I wanted to share today. Talk soon! Gros bisoux!

 

 

Sticking to a healthy diet: The challenges

Currently reading the compound effect by Darren Hardy. In this book, it says a positive environment carries a powerful impact in ensuring the successful implantation of good habits. The right environment can be the difference between success and failure.

So many times we set goals but we forget to take into consideration those stumbling blocks be it people or situations that can derail us…”

In other words, when you’re trying to implement a new behavior, you must put your environment to work for you. I thought about that and realized this is something I don’t always take into account when making grand plans. For example, dear husband and myself are trying to keep a healthy diet by eating good nourishing food most of the time. Sometimes we succeed, sometimes we don’t. But I have noticed that some environment (like watching TV late at night) may not be helping. Every single time we went off track, it was while watching TV late at night, especially Friday evenings, etc.).  There’s also something to be said for bad company but since I obviously can’t get rid of dear husband (not sure I want to go back to the dating scene again…) I feel pressed to figure out other ways to stay on track. So, below are a couple of steps I am thinking on implementing. It would take some practice but I believe they could help steer the boat in the right direction.

“When dieting, the very idea of cheat days is problematic. It’s like cheating to keep your marriage interesting…. Not the best strategy. “

The first thing would be to eliminate TV time during weekdays. In a fit of transparency, I feel obligated to mention that most of the times, I am only awake for 30 minutes max🙄, favorite TV shows or not… so, I can’t logically cut out TV time when I am sleeping through it😴🤤. Dear husband is a patient man but there are limits. Consequently, I must find a solution that won’t make me look bad. As a Libra, I am all about finding solutions that make me look good, even if they’re bad😜.

The second thing would be to plan ahead which means plan our weekly menu ahead of time and making sure the fridge is stuffed with healthy options. Also, it would be a good thing to plan our treat days days ahead and find delicious alternative to add to our cheat day menu! I know some people are against cheat days and with good reason. Some people can cheat and keep it classy but some go hog wild🤣

When dieting, the very idea of cheat days is problematic. It’s like cheating to keep your marriage interesting…. Not the best strategy. No good can come out of it and it always backfires.

So in that spirit, we decided that on Fridays, instead of ordering out we’d get back to making our own treats which are way more delicious and cost way less. Of course, that won’t stop us from overeating but at least we take pride in our willingness to experiment and see what work😏. 

If I am being honest, number two is a lot more realistic for us right now so we’ll try and stick to it as best we can and give it time.

What about you, dear readers? Do you have any strategies for implementing new habits or sticking to good one? Please do share!

The right size or the right fit: A surprise workout in a dressing room.

”The right size or the right fit?”

A few weeks ago, I was talking to my nutritionist about the benefits of fast walking for lowering stress and she insisted one of the best low impact exercise for lowering stress is a long leisurely stroll where you actually have the time to enjoy the scenery. I politely nod to demonstrate agreement while privately disagreeing. If you’ve read this Post, you know I am more of a break-a-hip type of exercise person than a breathing-practice one. Nevertheless, I decided to give the leisurely stroll a try. Plus, where I work there are plenty of clothing stores to browse from. Personally, I think there is nothing sadder than looking at things you can not afford. But then again if you’re gonna be broke for a while you might as well make peace with it and make it look like you’re one of those very, very difficult people on a mission to find that perfect “coup de coeur” (read extremely broke). And if the sales clerk tries to pester you, you tell them: «Well, I am looking for something very particular. Once I’ve found it, I’ll be sure to let you know». Naturally, saying the whole thing with a Brittish accent would certainly give you more credibility.

”You’d need to be a clothes hanger or a broom stick to fit into this size. Having pliable bones may also greatly help.”

During said leisurely stroll, my steps somehow led me to Aritzia. Naturally, I started browsing their pants section and became super excited when my eyes fell onto the most perfect pair of high-waisted pants in a slightly stretchy material. I’ve been dreaming about a pair like this for ages. So I decided today was my lucky day. Thinking I was probably a size 6, I grabbed a few colours and headed for the changing rooms. There was already a lovely sales person on location manning the dressing room with the appropriate frozen smile platered across her face. Who can blame her? Dealing all day with people who refuse to face their size all day long can be taxing.

”Sizes are not really important because our bodies change. Pursue the right fit not the right size”.

Little did I know I would get a break-a-hip type of workout in the dressing room in the form of trying to wrestle my frame into a size that claimed to be a 6. I couldn’t even get it up to my waist. For this to fit me I’d need to either be a hanger or a broom stick..or maybe have pliable bones..! There is just no other way. How can that happen? Last week at old Navy, I was a solid size 6 with end of day bloat and all!  I was crushed. After a couple of painful thoughts, I decided to ask for a size 8 thinking to myself: ”It’ll probably be too large but…”. The relief expected was not to come since surprise while I could pull it all the way up I couldn’t zip it up. And believe me, I tried. I had to take a couple of minutes to give myself time to digest that newsflash: The 8 did not fit either.

”To me, if there’s room on the fllor for double zeros, there should be room for sizes 8 and up….But then again, I suppose a size 10 would take up so much room, the whole thing would fail to look like a minimalist closet (Insert eye rolls).”

I debated if I should just get out of there comforted in the idea it was their fault, not mine. Their size 6 was clearly a double zero in denial. But then again the fighter in me (or the glutton for punishment) decided to stay and ask to try on a 10. To which I was answered by the sales clerk: ”I’ll check but you might have to order it online. Is that all right?” Naturally I nodded in approval. What else was I going to say? Your size 6 is a lie and fetch me the manager while you’re at it? Certainly not! Upon trying it, the size 10 was way too big and made me look like a sack of mashed potatoes. 

So all in all, I went into the changing room full of hope and came out in great despair. My world of medium sizes had been shattered. While thinking about the whole ordeal, I couldn’t help but notice that only what was considered small sizes were displayed on the floor. To me, if there’s room for double zeros, there should be room for sizes 8 and up.  Where is the logic in there? But then again, I suppose a size 10 would take up so much room, the whole thing would fail to look like a minimalist closet? Go figure!

Lessons learned: ”Sizes are not really important because our bodies change. Pursue the right fit not the right size”.

These pants were such workouts that I am now considering buying them as replacement for my workout dvds. You see, it wasn’t a complete disaster after all….

What about you dear readers? Have you had similar experiences? Please do share! Bisous!

 

A GOOD SELFIE CAN SAVE LIVES: IN DEFENSE OF THE SELFIE

“There is nothing a good selfie can’t cure including a shitty day!”

Picture this: You’re in a restaurant, your food is getting cold, your husband is this close to murder you, neighboring tables are starting to give you the look usually reserved for unaccompanied children but yet, here you are, still trying to take that perfect selfie. This has been a constant dilemma of mine: Should I capture this moment or enjoy it? (Go ahead and say a little prayer for me, I’ll wait…). I can not tell you how many times I agonized over this or should I say my poor husband agonized while watching me try out every corner of our home, phone in hand, in search of perfect lighting.

Actually, there is only one living being in our household that seems to always get good lighting: Our cat, Cleo 🙂

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“Cleo, our lighting expert, doing what she does best which is nothing”

It’s not unusual for me to go to my selfie folder when I am depressed or low in search of pick-me-up. It brightens my mood right away. When I recently changed my phone I had only one requirement: It has to be able to take good selfies. That was my only requirement. 

“It’s the silly stuff, moments of unguarded happiness that usually bring the most joy.”

A good selfie can literally save lives. I don’t know about you but when I am having a shitty day and somehow manage to take a good selfie it certainly makes me feel like the day is not entirely lost. Below is a few selfies that never fail to crack me up 🙂

Pic 1: Me trying to act sexy…epic fail…I look more like a drunk pervert:)

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“Me trying to look sexy but looking more like a drunk pervert”

Pic 2: Cleo overstepping her boundaries as usual thinking she is the queen of the household and as such deserves to be in every picture!

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“When Cleo decides it’s her turn to shine”

Pic 3: Cleo trying to play dead so we can rush to rub her belly. In my next life I want to come back as her, obviously. And next time I want a belly rub, I think I’ll do the same:)

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“How to get a belly rub: Play dead with your belly up”

What about you guys? Do you have favorite selfies? Do you use your selfies to lift your mood? Feel free to share! Gros bisous!

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!

What is your workout personality?

Back in the days when I was young, I used to insist on suffering through grueling workouts thinking the most important thing was to get result. I would love to report that with age I’ve finally realized the nonsense of it all but no, I am still the same, hence, this previous post: Workout that delivers: 30 min hit.

“In fact, there’s nothing I hate more than wasting an hour at the gym moving around like a chicken in labor.”

My husband is the contrary. As proof, one of our many, annoying “discussions” on the subject:

Me: “Well, honey have you joined the gym class you were talking about?”

Hubby: “No, I have a couple of friends who want to join so I am waiting for them?”

Me: “Why? You don’t have to wait for your friends. Go ahead and enroll. They can join later if they want.”

He looked at me like you would a vicious water snake.

Hubby: “No, it is more fun in group!”

Me: “This is exercise. Not a summer picnic!”

He chose not to answer. Naturally, nothing gets me going more than hubby not answering. So I pressed on, thinking falsely that victory is near.

Me: “Plus, when you go with people you have to be nice, you have to make conversations, say hi and bye and inquire about them even if you don’t give a damn. And then when you’re done you can’t just disappear you have to let them know even at the risk of having some of them follow you all the way to the bus station just because they’re going the same direction.” (Insert rolled eyes emoji here).

This time he sincerely looked puzzled. I could actually hear his brains cells trying to process that last piece of info. Had I said the same thing on a first date, I probably would have never heard from him ever again. The last time he was this shocked was when he realized house chores were not my forte.

When he finally answered. It looked like this:

Hubby: “I see…when was the last time you showed up at your “favorite” kickboxing class?”

The double-headed snake!!! Trying to get back at me for helping him get results. I felt betrayed and vindicated because, well, he was right! I couldn’t even begin to answer that question even if I wanted because truth is, it is been a long, long time I have set foot in that class. It was clear I wasn’t going to win round.

Me: “Well, for your information, I am planning on going back next week…..(insert head in sand emoji here).”

Hubby: “I see…but wait! Didn’t you say the same thing last week?”

Most people would have taken this as a sign they lost the battle but not me. Being a Libra, I am predisposed to ignore signs of danger in the pursuit of enlightening others. It ain’t over until I make a fool of myself. Please, don’t judge me. Some would call me a sore loser. Well, one person did. It was dear husband.

Me: “Touche! Well, you do whatever you want. Just don’t say I didn’t warn you.”

This sentence must have been uttered by every sore loser on the planet while they are lamely scurrying away for cover. While I was trying to digest my burning defeat, the cold-hearted man finished me with that last sentence.

Hubby: “Well, I have no interest in self-torture so if you’ll excuse me I’ll go and play some video game.”

As you can see if dear husband is not having a lot of fun while exercising and I mean a whole lot of it, he won’t do it. Which brings me to workout personality. I know for myself when it comes to working out, if I am not suffering, I am not happy. I don’t feel like I am working out if I am not sweating like a pig. If I am not bitching before a training session, I am not happy either. In fact, there is nothing I hate more than wasting an hour at the gym moving around like a chicken in labor.

Of course, the downside of that is I don’t show up if I don’t feel like 100 percent, which would explain why I’ve been missing in action at the gym for weeks now. Not good. Not good at all. There may be a grain of truth in what the man is saying after all….

What about you dear readers? What’s your workout personality? How does it differ from people around you?

Don’t forget to share, like and comment this article to your heart content and talk soon!

LOOKING UGLY IN PHOTOS: THE CAMERA DOESN’T JUST ADD 10 POUNDS

This week in first-world problems: The camera adds 10 pounds…

“…The camera is like that bitch of a friend who’s always the first one to tell you you’ve gained weight and the last one to wish you a happy birthday…”

Picture this: It is Saturday morning and I am meeting with my photographer in 2 hours which leaves me with about one hour tops to get ready. But no matter how in a hurry I am, I somehow always have time for a quick 5 minutes dance session (insert John Travolta emoji here) followed by a quick 2 minutes face check (to make sure I haven’t morphed into Cinderella’s famously ugly stepsisters overnight). By the time I am done with these two “essential” activities I have already lost a good 15 minutes which puts me into overdrive for the remaining 45 minutes. Fast forward an hour later and I am miraculously done, with perfect make up and outfits for photo shoot in tow. Now comes the most important step in my entire morning routine: The mirror checks.

 

“…In my case, the camera usually doubles my butt, triples my belly, adds a double chin and remove a breast size….”

First thing first, the bathroom mirror check and the verdict is: “Hello beautiful”. Second, my hand mirror, the verdict is still the same : “Hello beautiful”. Walk to the bus stop and take a selfie (I obviously take this very seriously), verdict is even better: “spectacular”.   I then arrive at said photo shoot location late but with a glow that not even the best filter can match and get compliments from hot buff guy in construction uniform (go ahead and use your unbridled imagination here). At this point, my ego is abundantly flowing through my veins like the Nile river. That day I went home looking smug and proud as if just named most beautiful woman on earth by Vogue. Fast forward two weeks later. Receive photos and the verdict is: 80 % of pics? “Mildly good looking with a risk of ugly”. 20% of pics? “spectacular”.

They say the camera adds 10 pounds but that is not completely accurate. I think the camera doesn’t just add 10 pounds, it adds 10 pounds of bad fat and remove 10 pounds of good fat. In my case the camera usually doubles my butt (was born with a perfect butt so don’t need that), triples my belly, adds a double chin and remove a breast size (throws outraged fist in the air). Now I don’t mean to sound vain but I think I was created perfect but somehow the camera doesn’t seem to pick up on that.

“when in doubt always chose to be beautiful.”

But once again, since I am an ageing and vain little person, I decided to focus on the 20% and ignore the 80% and retire forever into the very comfortable and happy world of denial. Being vain saves lives, I tell you!

Thank you for passing by and don’t forget to subscribe, like, comment or share this article and most of all I would love to hear your take on this “very serious matter” 🙂

Gros bisous!