KEEP IT IN THE PHAMLY: 2018

Not all of my gifts are joke gifts. Some of the time they are thoughtful and meaningful. Not this one though. This gift idea stems from pure selfishness. I needed an excuse to take photos of my camera-averse Boyfriend every day and now I finally have it.

When I lived in Melbourne I'd visit The Phamly 3-4 times a year and talk on the phone with Mum Pham every couple of days. Boyfriend's mum lives in Perth, which is about as far away from Brisbane as you can get within Australia so quarterly visits aren't so easy. They talk regularly, but for his first year in Brisbane his mum could only visit us once. She got to see where he lives and meet me and Dad Pham, but it's hard to learn what someone's life is like in one weekend.

When her birthday was approaching... then came...then went, and Boyfriend had only called her to wish her happy birthday because their family don't do gifting, my brain started to tick. We had to do something for Xmas. Life is too short not to show people you love that you appreciate them.

What would Mum Pham have liked if we lived far apart and we hardly ever got to see one another? Lightbulb! 'A year in the life of' photo project about Boyfriend for his mum. I pitched the idea as a daily calendar so it's sort of practical but mainly so she can learn more of his Brisbane life. We could send her prints in monthly packs so the moments captured would be recent and relevant. It's something she will look at every day to remember that a) she has a son and b) he loves her and misses her.

Boyfriend normally yells no to gifts, but he was fully behind this idea. He got to designing the calendar pages, while I took on the difficult task of photographing my favourite human going about his life. We found an iPad holder (like a compact cookbook holder) at Kmart which fit prints in size 6" x 8" nicely. He sent the iPad holder and photos for the month of January. She opened it today for Christmas, and it made her cry - hopefully, they were happy tears and not because I didn't think to set my phone camera to the highest quality for better prints. Oops.

Merry Christmas everyone, hope you have the best time showing your loved ones how much you care!

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Dad Pham used Little Sissy Pham's old, pink Motorola flip phone and would never have changed phones if it weren't for the whole 2G network becoming obsolete. For some reason (laziness) I left it to Little Sissy, the least techie of the three Pham siblings, to find Dad's next phone. She got Dad an Aspera F24 Seniors Big Button Flip Phone. The phone says it's for seniors but Dad found the user interface counterintuitive and the sound too quiet for his failing hearing. Dad struggled with it for nearly a year thinking his troubles with the phone were his failing to adopt new technology, but really the new technology was failing him. When he remembered how to turn on loudspeaker, the sound was fuzzy and hard to hear. Finally, he gave up and let us get him a new phone.

Round 2 started with Little Sis calling me an idiot for letting her choose Dad's phone and I should have done it. She's right. This time I went on the hunt for a seniors friendly phone that was intuitive, easy to use, and LOUD. I found the Olitech Easy Mate+ phone via intensive googling and research. There aren't too many phones for Seniors on the market and most seemed too much like the dudAspera F24. The Olitech Easy Mate+, however, is designed and produced by people who have worked in occupational therapy, and orthotics and prosthetics so they understand the accessibility challenges of technology for people who are less able-bodied.

Unfortunately, no big tech stores seem to have picked up this handset so I couldn't have a look at it in person before buying. Instead, I took a punt and ordered the phone direct from Olitech online. Worth it.

Dad loves his new phone and I do too. These days I can clearly hear Dad squirming to hang up on me. He's not a big talker so our calls are always super efficient and all about agreeing on logistics for Phamly plans, and occasionally an appointment or social event he needs one of us to taxi him to.

The sound quality on the Olitech Easy Mate+ is clear and loud. The buttons are nice and big. The user interface is easy to use because it's intuitive and logical. I only had to show Dad how to do things once and he got the hang of it. It's well thought out and designed. I cannot recommend this phone enough to seniors who just want a phone they can use to make calls and text.

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Life has a weird sense of humour. I, Jade Pham, serial gifter and enabler of other people's happiness, am dating a boy who hates receiving gifts. In his bizarro world gifting is a product of a consumerist society and yada yada yada - I stopped listening to that rant because I've heard it so many times. But I did listen to his rules about gifts being wanted, practical and meaningful.

They're allowed for things like that time he flew across the country to surprise his close friend of his birthday, or that time he printed photos of him and a friend with The Doppelgangaz at their Perth gig, sent the photos to the US with return postage so the rappers would sign the photos for a birthday present. So some presents are allowed as long as you follow the rules. I do like rules. I like following rules a lot. But what I like even more than following rules, is finding ways to bend them to the point of breaking.

Which is why for his Christmas present, I spent an hour peeling and chopping garlic to put in a big jar with olive oil. He likes eating garlic but he hates chopping it up because of the stank. I, on the other hand, have spent the past however many years with stinky garlic hands every other weekend because I bulk cook for Phamly gatherings so it ain't no thang.

The gift went down well...ish. At first he was mad that I got him a present but when he realised I made it myself and it was practical, he calmed down... a little. Then for his birthday, I got him one of my favourite books because he churns through novels the way I churn through honey jars, and again he was mad but he got over it. So then for a housewarming gift when we moved in together, I got him the riskiest gift yet: a Nintendo Switch. I've never seen anyone so angry about receiving something they've talked about for half a year - he thought about breaking up with me, but by then it was too late because we are both too lazy to move house again so soon. I haven't gotten him anything big since then because he very loudly complained about the Switch for the first many hours he sat there playing Zelda. But now the memory of that is fading, I'm about ready to find another awesome gift that he'll hate accepting.

It probably is for the best that the man for me isn't a taker because I would give more than I should and burn out like I've done with so many takers in the past. He's infuriating as hell, but right for me.

UPDATE 11/01/2020: I no longer pre-chop garlic because bacterial infection is a real risk. Instead I buy giant jars of crushed garlic that's loaded with preservatives to keep it safe.

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I cried so hard watching To All The Boys I've Loved Before on Netflix this week, a film based on the book by Jenny Han, which I haven't read yet but the trilogy is now on my to-read list.

I was embarrassed because it's such a sweet and funny TEEN movie so I didn't understand my feels. Why so emotional about a cute teen coming of age story? That night I went to bed still thinking about the film. The next morning I rewatched it because I'd enjoyed it so much the first time and also to see if I could figure out what about it intrigued me so.

I related to a film that had close to zero resemblance to any part of my life as a frumpy, grumpy, anti-social teenager. If anything, adult me is more like the lead character - I'm sensible yet emotionally naive and found myself in a 'second best / fake best' situation with a boy. But that's not why I loved the film so much.

As a tween I used to obsessively write fictional stories with teen girls as the lead characters. I have no idea if they were any good and they are all long gone because I wrote them on a typewriter and those pieces of paper were probably trashed by Dad Pham. He always threw out our homework as kids. I never realised until now that all of my fictional characters were white. That was all I read in books as a kid, that was all I knew. Representation is so important.

Watching To All The Boys I've Loved Before, I cried for younger me who would have admired and adored an Asian-American character like Lara Jean. I cried for what I missed out growing up, that feeling of belonging and acceptance. I cried because younger generations like my nieces will have books and films like this and realise they have a place in this world. They are not 'other', they are not invisible. I am so grateful to Jenny Han and Netflix and Lana Condor (who has Vietnamese heritage - woo)! Fingers crossed the other books in this series get adapted for film.

I'm going to see the movie Crazy Rich Asians on opening night with my (Not So) Single Ladies Valentine's Day Birthday posse. Wish me luck. I bet I'm going to cry like a baby.

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I've been distracted from writing of late. Two things - One: I met a boy. Two: we moved in together. So, in your face, Dave! I did get a boyfriend with my OnePlus 5t.

It's been a whirlwind year of 3-month upheavals. After Europe last year Little Sissy Pham's boyfriend moved in with us. Then I met someone at work and three months in, we started dating. A few more months of share housing with my sibling and her man, and it became obvious I was the third wheel preventing them from being a bike. By that, I mean, most bikes need to settle down with two wheels. I feel like I'm not making sense but you get what I mean. In short, a few months ago I was tossing up whether to live in a sharehouse for affordability (but people, ew) or paying 30% more rent to live alone (but expensive, ew).

New boyfriend of a few months gave me a third option when he asked if it would be crazy for us to live together. Well, yeah it is. But we did it anyway. And so here I am a few months later and we're living together in a cosy apartment - him with his black and white minimalism. Me in my rainbow splattered everything.

We're complete opposites in most ways. He likes gyms, I like swims. He plays basketball, I throw pokeballs. He raps, I can't. He sings, I won't. I dance, he don't. I love the outdoors, he prefers temperature controlled environments. I'm all about summer, he's all for winter. And let's not talk about the long list of things he won't eat. There's one thing I don't eat - animals.

We don't even use the same words to describe things. I say extra, he says spare. I say drizzling, he says sprinkling. I say yah huh, he says nuh uh. I say shut up, he says shush. Why does English have so many words that mean pretty much the same thing?

Somehow we work though. After all the bullshit and mind games of online dating and being with a serial liar and cheater, this is the first romantic relationship where I haven't felt like it is an effort to make it work. When it's right, it's easy. Unlike all of my previous boy history, this one comes Phamly approved. It's nice to be in love with someone worthy of it. I'm a lucky girl.

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One thing I've learned transitioning from a small business where it's usually me and the owner then maybe another colleague or two to medium and corporate offices is that shared spaces with five colleagues and more is never a good time. There are always the clean freaks, the careless and the adult kids whose parents never taught them any better. Put the spectrum in one space and sparks, in the form of passive aggressive signs, fly to no avail.

Don't get me wrong. I'm on the passive aggressors' side. Clean up after yourself, follow Dan Savage's relationship advice - leave the campsite better than you found it... There shouldn't be the need to put up signs instructing people to be decent human beings. Why am I picking old banana peels and plastic bags out of the recycling bin when someone put up a sign that explicitly explains what can and cannot be recycled? Ew!

One of my favourite signs in the office though is in the toilet cubicle. There's a not so secret war against whoever is not replacing the toilet paper roll. Something about the sign combined with the toilet paper brand name 'Who Gives A Crap' gives me the giggles. Clearly the culprit does not give a crap when they take a crap. Not knowingly at least.

The culprit is still wiping right by wiping at all because the more toilet paper we use, the more Who Gives A Crap can contribute to building toilets for the less fortunate. We take toilets and toilet paper for granted in Australia but it's crucial for hygiene and health.

Work uses the regular Who Gives A Crap toilet paper but I am a Premium subscriber because I want only the best for my bum cheeks given the choice. The subscription is 100% flexible - you can log in online and change the next delivery date if you have too little or too many toilet rolls left. They come in boxes of 48 so prepare to store a big box of toilet rolls. I build a pyramid next to my bed currently but when I move to my own place this weekend I'm going to stake a spot and claim if for Who Gives A Crap toilet paper storage. I also use their facial tissues. I tried the paper towel but it's not very absorbent so I haven't ordered more. The delivery service is super quick and free to metro areas. Plus, their customer service team is excellent - I've canceled subscriptions before to change my order and both times I contacted them, they were quick to respond, helpful and stupidly friendly. These people give a crap and so should you.

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You should totally try ballet if you want to ache all over, all the time. Oh god, why does it hurt so much? I exaggerate. It's been over 2 months of classes now with Queensland Ballet and my body is handling ballet better. In fact, I feel stronger, and have used my new knowledge of how my muscles work to improve my swimming technique. Bi-winning!

But boy-oh, the first week back in ballet, everything hurt SO much. I did the free trial class at the start of the year to see if I could get to class on time coming from work. And also to see if my old, inactive, inflexible joints could handle it. My thighs, my butt, my hips, my core (who knew I had a core?), my arms - it hurt to sit, stand, and move. I could barely think without flinching the next day after class, but I knew that was a good thing so I' enrolled in the 8 week Ballet Basics course, and now I take casual beginner ballet classes throughout the week.

Ballet is great for strengthening muscles, posture, wearing high heels and in my case, helping with my pigeon toe situation (though nothing will help the fact my hip is wonky making my left leg longer than my right). It seems like a gentle exercise and I suppose it is compared to impact sports like boxing, but it's a lot tougher than you'd imagine to keep control of all your muscles. I still ache after every class, though it's more developmental pain now and less these-muscles-have-never-been-used pain.

I was so nervous going into my first Ballet Basics taster class. It's been years in since I did beginner ballet the first time around, and I was younger and fitter then. I'd been thinking about it for months but it took my friend B prodding nonstop for me to book the class. Everyone needs an annoying, stubborn and pushy friend in their life.

I did beginner classes a few years back with Centenary Dance Academy on the Southside and even performed in their end of year showcase (I was so bad, it was good), but then I changed jobs and the commute was too far to make it in time for class. So I stopped. Until I started doing Groove Therapy classes and it got me thinking about body movement, and dance. I'm slowly becoming more active. I started with walks, then added weekend swims, then Groove Therapy, before I upped my walks to jog-walks (one day I hope to jog then run the full route).

Now I'm doing Queensland Ballet's Ballet Basics 8-week course before I get back into Beginner Ballet casual classes. They also offer Pilates, Barre & Tone and a bunch of other classes I'd like to try once I'm in better ballet shape. I need to pace myself though, because I am dopey and prone to hurt myself whenever I try new things with my uncooperative body.

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