New York has a way of welcoming you back.
There may not have been any phone messages or parties to attend. (Not like the warm Brisvegas welcome.)
But there was this, on my first subway trip:
(Break dancing on the sub-way! Note: The man yelling “Excuse me! Can you stop bumping into me!” is yelling at me. Only I didn’t realize until he totally lost it!)
Also, the homeless man outside my office noticed I’d been away, and enquired how I’d been.
It’s good to be missed!
Yup. I get it. 
… of hypocracy?
Ever said one thing, then turned around and done another?
At a recent family wedding in Oz (after a couple of Mojitos) I found myself linking arms in a large circle of extended family and strangers, while singing You’re the Voice by John Farnham.
My brother J-Rad watched on in amusement.
Afterwards he said to me: “Wow. You must experience a lot of cognitive dissonance* in your life.”
He’s not wrong.
I experience as much cognitive dissonance as Julian McMahon and Dannii Minogue would have after making this delightful video:
(They divorced shortly after its release.)
It is true. A few years ago I would have glassed myself before pretending to enjoy Johnny Farnham’s music for the kabillionth time in my life. (Sorry to all you loyal fans out there.)
Why? Because he represents everything I loaaaath about the Australian Culture:
(John Farnham. 'Farnzy')
But there’s more to it than that! To me - he epitomizes the Aussie Cultural Cringe!!! I get the same expression listening to him, that one gets when listening to our politicians speak. Or that one used to get watching the crocodile hunter, before he died and we all realized how much we actually loved him.
(Steve Irwin. RIP Steve)
And that’s the thing about cultural cringing. It’s rather hypocritical. Like faults that bug you about a friend or family member; at the end of the day - you can’t help having some kind of good sentiment for them, because they make up a part of a whole.
The fact that Farnzy is rather cringe worthy, makes our Australian culture very unique, and there’s something to be said about having a little pride in that.
Alcohol also helps.
If reaching a point in my life where I can openly sing Farnzy without wanting to hurt myself, makes me a hypocrite, then so be it. Just like my father and Kirsty Alley; opinionated people can and do change their minds.
After all, we’re only human.
(Kirsty Alley Makes a vow to shed extra pounds on Oprah)
Mark my words, J-Rad. One day you’ll be far away from the place you are today. Perhaps you’ve had a mojito too many, and Johnny Farnham will start playing. Then Somewhere, deep within the recesses of your pickled little brain, a sense of joy will find a crack and seep into your sole.
After all, we are only Australian.
*Cognitive dissonance is an uncomfortable feeling caused by holding two contradictory ideas simultaneously.
It’s gotten way out of hand when:
“Take it out for the afternoon! I won’t come, you can have it all to yourself. Seriously!” he says.
Sure - you may dine there 4 times a week… but couldn’t he just make your pizza free?
Despite having eaten just over an hour ago:
Level of concentration and effort in conversation = 0.
Level of thoughts about burritos and and tacos = 23.
So... I’ve decided to go “cold turkey” off both pizza and cheese. And just like not walking down the potato chip isle of a supermarket, it’s actually easier than I thought.
10 days dry and not counting.
Even if you’ve just swallowed your first born she won’t judge you. And for that reason people tell her all their secrets.
I had the pleasure of sitting opposite her for over 10 hours a day at my old work. We saw each other more than we saw anyone else in our lives.
Every couple of hours, (or every hour on a bad day) we’d catch each other’s eye and ask “Coffee?” which was code for chai lattes and a gossip in one of the kitchenettes. Sometimes we’d discuss which staff members we’d sleep with if we had to choose. Or which staff we’d sleep with if we were gay. Other times we’d cry on each other’s shoulders. (We both went through icky break ups with long term partners around the same time).
But before we really knew each other we were invited to the wrap party for an American Television series that came through our company, called “The Starter Wife,” at Strike Bowling Bar, Gold Coast.
And guess who was at the party? The lead actress - Deborah Messing!
We watched in awe, as our other companion – who knew the Director of Photography, was asked to join Deborah in the VIPs section of the bowling lanes. Suddenly we noticed Miss Messing make a move towards the ladies with her friend.“Oh my god! I need to pee!” said Sal.
“Yes - me too!” I agreed and we linked arms casually stalking her to the toilets. There were only three stalls. Deborah was drunk and giggling in one and so Sal and I took the other two. There’s nothing like tipsy-peeing next to a Hollywood Celebrity!
Our pee’s trickled in unison, forming a champagne choir!
Deborah was wasted! She could barely wash her hands. Sal and I did a good job of staying cool, as we washed up in the next basin.
From that moment on we knew we’d be good friends. And we knew we’d be even better friends, when we realized our shared love for potato chips (crisps).
On my birthday this year, I received a large box in the mail from her. And when I opened it, it was stuffed full of potato chips! Possibly the best present ever.
She gave me her room and her car, on my recent stay in Brisbane, while she attended a wedding in Fiji! Lucky thing. So before she returned I filled her space in the pantry choca’s full of chips!
Even though it’s been almost two years since we’ve worked together, we still often sit on skype. Not always chatting, but just going about our own work, knowing each other are there.
Then every so often we’ll type “So what’s goss?”
And of course…
“What’s your favourite chip?”
Walking down the crowded drunk streets of Brisbane’s Fortitude Valley, a short tanned girl in a bright red sari approached - in slow motion. 
