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KEEP IT IN THE PHAMLY


Believe it or not, despite my bright and colourful wardrobe and matching demeanour, I do think unhappy thoughts sometimes. I keep the dark scary off the Interwebs because there’s enough negativity on here - am I right? Sometimes, I think the happy, positive people in the world probably also have the worst thoughts because if you have the capacity to be extreme in one way, you have it in you to be the opposite extreme too.

There is no hiding when I’ve cried. My eyelids puff up like I’ve had an allergic reaction to life (which I suppose you could say I did), and my eyes become so bloodshot and dry it looks like I haven’t slept in days. The worst cries are when I run out of tears and burst the little blood vessels around my eye socket so I also have little red veins streaking everywhere. No amount of makeup can hide all three side-effects of bawling my eyes out because it changes the physical shape of my eyes, lips and nose - everything gets puffy.

I don’t cry too often. I feel like crying all the time - say, about once every month 4-6 days before I start bleeding - PMS, guys, it’s a bitch. But I only cry every now and then if I’m feeling bummed out about something specific. The trigger can be big or small and the cries accordingly.

My last small cry was after a nice lunch at RSPCA Wacol's Black Cat Cafe when I saw a kitty kat being adopted by a young boy and his mum. I was so darn ecstatic for the cat and her new family I burst into tears on the spot.

My last big cry was after my dating fail with No Fun - it brought on years of self-doubt and feeling unwanted for most of my life. And people often point out what’s wrong with me when it comes to reasons I am single (too intelligent, too weird, etc) and I usually disagree with them (too argumentative) because it's the dating pool that's wrong (too idealistic). I let myself be overwhelmed and weeped every night for nearly two weeks. Sometimes it's good to let it go, Queen Elsa is right.

There's no shame in crying whether it's over sad things or glad things. Everyone needs to let themselves feel their feelings every once in a while. All because society undervalues emotion, does not mean it has no value to us as people. It is good to feel your feelings. It's where art and music and creativity and beauty is born. It's how we relate to one another and make connections. So, dear people, let yourself feel all the things. Don't hold back! ...Unless your feelings are impulses to hurt yourself or others - in which case, please reach out to people at organisations like headspace and beyondblue who can help you process what you're feeling.

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I kept handwritten journals from primary school through to university. In the past decade or so I’ve lost the good habit. I rarely sit down without technology - my laptop or my phone, so I decided to digitise my journal and see if that worked. It did. I created a Gmail account that I email every 1-3 days with my latest news, thoughts and meanderings. It mostly acts as a log of my mediocre life, but every now and then it’s good to vent privately about the state of something in my life or the world, or anything really.

Even though I have this blog - which is also like a weblog of my life, I still want to keep a diary of my (im)proper private thoughts because not everyone needs to know I ate breakfast in the courtyard so I could spend quality time with my plants…and the PokéStop next door. Or that I’m constipated from eating potato chips for dinner for half the week. No, really, I am that interesting I want to record every useless thought I have. But I know it’s not for everyone so I'm doing the internet a kindness and keeping a private journal.

The perks of a digital diary means I can easily search for things if I want to recall an event without manually trawling through a dozen thick A4 books to try and find a bit of information. It took me 30 minutes to figure out how old our cat was when the Vet asked her age - a quick Gmail search would have pulled it up in seconds. It’s also handy not traveling with a book. I used to write in my journal a lot when I went on holidays away - the quiet time at night not in my own home was perfect for focussed writing, but that required forethought and packing my diary in the first place. Now I can simply email my diary from my phone any time, anywhere.

For anyone wanting to keep a journal but never quite getting started or if you have a journal and dropped off because you never seem to have time to sit down and write your thoughts, I highly recommend digitising your entries. If you’re on the internet often, it makes sense to email your entries to/from an exclusive address instead of finding time to sit down with a notebook and handwriting the story of your life. You can also attach photos and videos to keep a visual diary of your memories too. I love it.

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I never knew why Mum & Dad called each other Herr and Frau until I reconnected with my Long Lost German Cousin recently. I have always known the story of how they met though - Dad told us when we were younger, and the story has come up a lot more in recent years around Mother's Day. I like to call it When Herr met Frau:

Dad Pham met Mum Pham one day at work. They were definitely not an obvious match. They were, in fact, the complete opposite in most ways. Dad is a cheeky bugger who attracts lots of friends, but also rubs them the wrong way because he has no filter. Mum Pham was gentle and loving; a natural peacemaker who kept the friends Dad made.

When it came to dating, Mum Pham was a shy wallflower. She didn't actually date, partly because of the times, and partly because her family was super strict. Mum's dating history consisted of one man she had a crush on in university. It never went beyond flirtation because a stern talking to from her older brother put an end to it.  There was also a high-ranking military officer who became infatuated with her after seeing her at Grandad's factory. They crossed paths when he came to Grandad's factory to mass order beds for the army. He often visited even though Mum would avoid him and he'd just talk with Grandad. He eventually asked Grandad for mum's hand but she wasn't interested, and neither was Grandad. Those two men were the only men before Dad Pham. Mum focused on her studies like she was told - no boys allowed, and the future war meant her studies and avoiding boys was all for nought.

Dad Pham, on the other hand, was a total ladies man. He was and is charming and flirtatious, and all the ladies love him. He was a wild child as a kid then teen. Joining the navy meant he was always being deployed, and didn't know if he'd live to come home do Dad never had a relationship - he had flings. Though, I do know he loved one woman back in Vietnam but nothing ever eventuated because he fled the country and she stayed behind, then there was a woman in Singapore that Mum was always a little jealous of, but Dad knew it wouldn't be forever because he was only there temporarily as a refugee waiting to fly to Germany. I don't know how many women he's dated - he drops sly hints every now and then about how popular he is - but those were the two he loved before Mum Pham.

As Dad tells it, he was ready to settle down when he got to Germany because, even though his whole life had been uprooted and shaken every which way by the war and aftermath, his new country was where his life was stable. In Germany, Dad became an official translator for Vietnamese refugees because he's a quick study in anything he applies himself to including languages. He would help people with their documentation and get them oriented in their new home.

Dad Pham met Mum Pham this way. He knew he would marry her almost instantly. He was taking her for a tour around town, when a local German man dropped his wallet on a busy street and no one noticed. Mum Pham snatched it up and raced after him to give it back. Dad decided then that he would make Mum his wife. She didn't have anything but the clothes on her back yet she didn't think twice about returning a wallet full of cash to its rightful owner. Basically, us Phamlings are lucky Mum Pham isn't a selfish jerk, otherwise we wouldn't exist. That would be tragic, no?



- THE END -

If you want to start from the beginning of Phamly history, read:
Part 1 - O Captain! My Captain! Dad Pham's navy days during the Vietnam War.
Part 2 - P.O.W. Viet Cong Re-education Camp Dad Pham's time as a prisoner of war.
Part 3 - Living with Viet Cong Mum Pham's experience with communism.
Part 4 - Boat People Dad Pham seeks refuge after the war.
Part 5 - Finding Faith Dad finds peace.
Part 6 - When Herr met Frau - Dad Pham meets Mum Pham.
Part 7 - Life in Germany: the early years - Dad Pham sets up life in Germany.
Part 8 - Life in Germany: the later years - Dad gets sick, Mum steps up.
Part 9 - Getting ready for Australia - Mum Pham is on a mission.
Part 10 - Coming to Australia - My first memories of Australia.
Part 11 - Live in Brisbane the first time - The story of why we left Brisbane.
Part 12 - Moving to Melbourne - First impressions.
Part 13 - Life in Melbourne - Dad Pham - The good old days.
Part 14 - The Other Phams - Our neighbours in Melbourne were Phams too.
Part 15 - Life in Melbourne - Mum Pham - Our Sunday Phamly traditions began in Melbourne.
Part 16 - Cats On A Train - Moving to Brisbane
Part 17 - Sleepwalking Scare - Moving to Brisbane continued
Part 18 - A House in Brisbane - Moving to Brisbane continued some more
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I wish I had known about and tried Menstrual Cups sooner - I would have saved so much discomfort, and money, and waste. I discovered them last year through my obsession with all things Biome Store. Then a stellar friend vouched for them so I gave it a go. And, boy-o, am I mad at myself for not getting one sooner.

I have the Lunette Cup - Size 1 in blue (pictured). It is SO much better than icky tampons or pads. I actually forget I have my period a lot of the time because I can't feel the cup inside me the way I felt tampons and pads. The only time I am aware of having my period is on my heavy flow day where the bleeding is so heavy it leaks from the cup. On these days I'm aware of the my period because I use Ecomoon's reusable menstrual pad as a pantyliner and sometimes when the cup is really full I can feel the blood sloshing around when the cup is nearly full and I'm overdue to empty it.
It hasn't been all smooth sailing. The first time I slept with the cup it slipped further in (this is normal), and it took me half an hour to figure out how to get it out. I, of course, didn't read the instructions until I absolutely had to. You need to bear down, using your muscles to squeeze it to the base of your uterus where it normally sits. Then you can easily reach up and wiggle the cup out like usual. I also had another incident where I used the bearing down trick with a full bladder and accidentally peed all over my hand. Mm...That's a warm memory. Now I know to pee before I bear down. Yup.

The joys of womanhood, hey? Even though it can be a messy learning curve go begin with, I swear by the menstrual cup and will never look back. It feels like a big investment to spend $50-ish for a cup but think of how much tampons will cost you over 5 years or more. The cups last for years, some of my friends have had their one for 5-8 years and haven't needed to replace it yet. Seriously, worth giving them a go!

Less waste - no more pads for me!
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