28 May 2012

Eurovision in Oz

I'm a little tired. I haven't had much sleep lately. You would think it would have something to do with two out of three children waking up coughing in the middle of the night. Maybe it did, a little. But the main reason for my fatigue in recent days has been my late nights listening to Europop.

Yes, I admit it. I'm a Eurovision junkie.


I'm not one of those jump-on-the-bandwagon-now-that-SBS-has-made-a-big-deal-of-it-and-it-trends-on-Twitter types. No, I've been into Eurovision for at least 15 years, probably longer (now that I'm in my thirties the years seem to be hazily merging into one another). Some might think this is sad. But Eurovision makes me happy.

I remember watching it as a teenager and, in the days before the results were easily accessible on the internet, staying up late to find out which country was the winner. My parents indulged my passion by allowing me to do so, even on a school night. I remember being about 16 years old, watching the results in my lounge room, the television flashing with Euro-lighting while the rest of the house was dark with slumbering family members. I used to daydream about singing in Eurovision for Italy one day (that country being the closest (tenuous) link I could claim to having with Europe).

This weekend I was fortunate enough to be able to watch it 3. nights. in. a. row!

And it didn't disappoint. There was the funky, the dodgy, ballads and beats. It was a spectacle. Everything Eurovision should be. And I get to prolong/relive the enjoyment, as I have a birthday coming up...

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