KEEP IT IN THE PHAMLY

Almost every week we have a Phamly Pheast where those of us who cook and all of us who eat come together and indulge our inner pigs. We tried to control ourselves at our once in a lifetime dining experience at Fat Noodle in Brisbane that Little Sissy Pham won in a competition. We failed.

How can you control yourself when Luke Nguyen himself plans a 10 Course Off-Menu Meal for your family? You can't. This blog post is essentially food porn. I contained myself long enough to take snaps before we devoured each dish in Pham style, which is to say we stuffed our faces - only stopping long enough to take quick breaths so we don't pass out.

Little Sissy Pham finally flew the coup. She moved out with The Bloody Vegan (her boyfriend who I lovingly call that every time I remember I have to cook a separate dish for him) last weekend. We sent her off with Mum's sharpest knife because we pray she'll learn to cook more than two minute noodles, though we don't think our prayers will be answered for a while.

Dad Pham has been very sad without her around. He can't remember the last time he was this sad. He was relieved for Mum Pham when she passed away and he was completely fine when I moved to Melbourne, but for some reason Little Sissy Pham moving to the other side of Brisbane really got him down. I should be totally offended but I'm busy discovering the great things about not having Little Sissy Pham around. This is what I've noticed so far:

1. Luigi gets to sleep in the car port.

2. My products fit in the bathroom cabinet instead of the nook in my wardrobe.

3. I no longer speak English at home so my Vietnamese might improve (even the optimist in me highly doubts this).

4. No fighting to do laundry.

5. I get my cat all to myself.

6. When I open the pantry all my food is still there!

7. I can set up an exercise/dance space.

8.  I don't have to make bulk lunches for work anymore!!

9. I can shower whenever for however long I want in the mornings or evenings.

10. I finally, finally get to buy my favourite toilet paper: Kleenex Cottonelle - oh how I have missed your sweet caress. Evil sis made me get Sorbent for her sensitive bee-hind. No more! It's fluffy ribbed Cottonelle in this house from now on!

Did I mention when I open my pantry all my food is still there? Woohoo!

I've had 5 people in the past fortnight want to switch up their phones but scared to lose their contacts. How can this happen in this day and age? By that I mean the Google age. I've had my contacts synced to Gmail/Google Apps since I made the switch from dumbphones to smartphones. I like to plan ahead so I can slut around between handsets and networks without a care.

I can't be without my hand sanitiser… is not something I ever thought I'd say. Who knew the girl who had dirt throwing fights, ate off the floor and rarely bathed as a kid would grow up to list hand sanitiser as an essential?

It all started last year when I worked in a big office with hundreds of other people for the first time. I finally had a real-life reason to say, 'We're not in Kansas anymore, Toto.' Nobody heard me but one of the office guys noticed my face and asked if I was okay. No, I wasn't. I was distressed at working in a massive Matrix-like office and was praying in my head that a detached voice on a mobile phone would tell me to climb out the window and escape. But, no, I was now one of the worker ants.

Commuting on a train with hundreds of other humans then being shoved in office with hundreds more made me instantly ill. I'd come from working in large spaces with few people to large spaces with too many people. Little Sissy Pham who's learned the ways of modern office life made me get hand sanitiser - she prefers Purell hand sanitiser because it absorbs better but I got Dettol because it was in a rack by the check-out in Big W. Public transport, shared toilets, elevator buttons, ATM buttons, escalators arms... if you touch it too, sanitise! Sanitise! At least, until your immune system toughens up a bit. I'm back to a larger space with fewer people so I don't need to sanitise 100 times a day but I still carry a bottle with me, just in case. It came in handy the other week when my pal needed to do a stealth bush-wee.

I learned to touch type on a typewriter. It means I'm old but not as old as you're thinking. There were computers around but being a poor Phamly we didn't get a computer until Big Brother Pham turned 15 and got a job.

Big Brother bought our first think-box but Dad Pham bought my first typewriter. He found it at a garage sale because he was always buying things from garage sales whether we used them or not. Nobody asked for or needed a typewriter but that's never stopped him. His latest buy is an electric drill that he has no use for but still loves.

I was drawn to the typewriter. As soon as I saw it, I knew it was going to be mine. Little me used to write stories all the time and this was a shiny, new way to present my words. I didn't touch type at first because I didn't know there was such a thing. But one of my many IT cousins (why do I have so many cousins in IT?) saw me sitting at the typewriter with my two index and middle fingers and showed me how to be a lady. Okay, nobody ever showed me how to be a lady - Mum gave up before she started; I remember the exact moment her hopes died when I came home after a day well spent sliding down a dirt hill on my arse in a brand new polka dot skirt. Anyhoo, I picked up touch typing fast.


The only problem with learning on a typewriter is that to this day I still punch my keyboards with the vigour I needed to impress ink. Sometimes it sounds like I'm trying to murder my keyboard. This rad moo cow patterned keyboard cover softens the blow. It has put my touch typing to the test because while it looks super awesome, some of the keys are hard to read with red on black print. I had to memorise a couple of function buttons at the top but otherwise, I've still got it. Weehee!

I bought this from my good friend, eBay.

Sometimes I do random stuff like make potato chip trees, become a vegetarian after talking with a mosquito, write a letter to a cat pretending to be a cat... the list goes on. But there is one thing that you can always rely on me to do and that is SHINY THINGS.

People at work have already figured out that anything bright, multi-colour, highly flammable or reflective that comes through our office will make my beady little Asian eyes light up. When the Supra x A-morir appeared, I fell in shoe-love but almost didn't get them just to spite the guys for predicting that I'd get them... but who was I kidding? These shoes are so me!


I mean, just look at the crazy cats at A-morir. I imagine if I had adoptive parents, these two would be them. They've applied double-sided sequin to the Supra WMNS Skytop so I can choose to flip 'em on the black for darker days or flip 'em back for more gold on brighter days. My fave part is the little peep hole at the back of the ankle.

You can get 'em from my work www.culturekings.com.au and before you weird purists get on my back for promoting work stuff, I bought these shoes because I love them and recommend them!

I was expecting goodness from curator Shaun Hossack and his crew of creative misfits and innovators but New Hunting Ground blew me away. It was surreal to see a space I once threw paint at the walls in for fun transformed into a proper art gallery with gorgeous white walls, feature lighting and, of course, stunning art pieces from around the world.

Watch this awesome video of the opening night by EdInFocus. Over 500 people made their way through to enjoy the art. Some of my favourite people were Shaun's parents and sister. Turns out I love all the Hossacks!

The guys at work think I'm nice because every now and then I'll put on my chocolate fairy wings and sprinkle them with a bit of sugar as an afternoon pick-me-up. They don't understand what's really going on. I give out chocolate so I don't feel so bad about eating the deliciousness all the time.   If everyone's eating chocolate, I can totally eat it too! Them's the rules.

If you hoard chocolate like I do when it goes on sale then occasionally have to binge it before it expires, then you can guilt share chocolate at work too! $2 for a pack of 12-16 fun size chocolate that cheers everyone up? Seems like a good investment to me! Of course, every office will have a couple of weirdos who don't eat chocolate so every now and then a potato chip tree is needed for those special, broken few.

Nothing says "take me seriously" like a kiddy sized yellow lego brick backpack. This was a birthday gift from The Phamly because I needed a bag for work. Clearly, they respect my profession even though they don't actually know what I do. To be fair, I don't think anyone knows what I do. Today I was introduced as "Jade...she does a lot." Well, this do-a-lotter goes to work in sneakers, shiny street wear and most days with unbrushed hair so The Phamly got me a work bag to match.

The Lego backpack has one main compartment that can fit a stack of about 10 x A4 notepads and is a rectangular lego brick shape. The six lego connectors on the front are individually zipped pockets. I keep USBs, hair ties & pins, lens cleaners, girl things, mixed nuts and lip balm in mine. There's a nifty drink bottle holder on the left. This backpack goes with my Lego Stationery Kit. Yep, people take me very seriously around the office.

One of the longest relationships I've had in my life is with my mobile phone number. It was my first and still my only. I recently broke up with Telstra after a $69/month two year contract, which I bought just before I moved home and D'oh! You don't need to call your Phamly much when you live with them. There's this thing called Phamly dinner where people talk to each other FACE-TO-FACE.