KEEP IT IN THE PHAMLY

After a year of ups and downs, I'm craving peace and calm. I look forward to not doing much for a while, please and thank you. I'm at my most relaxed lazing in bed so I finally took the plunge and sunk hundreds of dollars into fresh sheets and quilt covers. Boyfriend got me into top sheets when I used to crash at his, and I've since upgraded all my sheets to nice sets. It's 1000TC or nothing, baby!

I have been sleeping on soft, silky, sublime, hotel quality bed sheets and it is life changing. I can't believe I waited so long to do this. So many nights of luxurious sleep wasted! I could never afford this in my early days of minimum wage employment, but I earned enough to this year finally pay off the last of my HECS debt so it's about time I treat myself. There are some perks to being an adult.

I've had crummy bargain bin sheets my whole adult life because I never upgraded them since moving to Melbourne as a poor graduate. As a result I have slept on ratty, old sheets for over a decade. They are so worn down the threads have a lot of dye so it's streaked with white and discolour. If you can afford to give a shit about sheets, please do.
The downside to having unbelievably comfy bedsheets is it makes getting out of bed even harder in the mornings. Lucky Boyfriend starts work early so I feel guilty staying in bed for too long when he's up and atom.

The first time we came to Brisbane from Germany, The Phamly didn't have the best run. We were renting a house on Wedgetail Street, around the corner from where Dad Pham and Big Brother Pham now live. I don't remember much of the time here - I was only 5 and the memories are flashes of scenery or moments that don't make sense because I'm missing context.

What I know is that something bad happened, and Mum Pham moved us away to Melbourne to be near her side of The Phamly after only 6 months in Brisbane. Mum and Dad never went into it when we were kids. But decades later, I'd learn it was because one of our relatives was a struggling heroin addict at the time and stole jewellery and cash from us for their habit. There was a big fight and Dad conceded to move The Phamly to Melbourne to be closer to Mum's side of the family.

I clearly remember one of the items that was stolen: Mum's jade bird necklace. It wasn't of much value compared to other heirlooms that were stolen but I loved that necklace. I used to play with it when Mum held me to her chest as a baby. It was of a bird in flight - similar to how children draw birds in the sky as two arched lines with curved tips. A plump version that was curved to a natural rock formation and polished with gold chain tassels on the tail. I've never been able to find anything close to the design. Maybe one day I will stumble across the original. It's somewhere in Brisbane still, I hope.

Since the initial robbery that made us up and move to Melbourne, my parents have helped bail this person out of other debts too. When I learned about everything that went down, my uni years suddenly made more sense. This relative used to visit us and would often sneak me a bit of cash for 'being a good girl.' I realise now they felt indebted to my parents and wanted to give something back once they were in a good place and could help.

Life would have been very different if we hadn't moved to Melbourne. But we did. And that's a story for next time.



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

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.