Let's get this straight. I'm a closet Eurovision fan. Always have been. Probably always will be. I'm terrified of the looks I'd get in the street, the laughs I'd recieve from strangers, the torturous glares I'd get in coffee shops, restaurants, train stations, libraries, airports, buses, car parks, homeless shelters, mirrors, McDonald's, cups, pens, chairs, EVERYTHING!
I just wouldn't be able to handle it. I'd rather stick to a life of quietly watching NFs on my laptop in the corner of my room through headphones.
So yes. I'm obsessed with Eurovision. I wish I could just be a casual viewer who longs for Wogan to return, despises the East, gets bored of the voting and is unaware of the exsistance of the semi-finals. But I'm not that viewer. I'm the sodding opposite. I love the East, I adore the voting, I refuse to uriniate during the semis (let alone the final) and I HATE(d) Wogan with all my f-ing heart. Melfest has turned me into a social recluse six Saturdays of the year while my Eurovision house parties are just a way to ensure that I definately get to watch my beloved, rare programme (annoyingly my friend's birthday almost always falls on that night).
I've been holding these feelings inside for far too long. I need to get them out. I need to tell someone that I've played Stay the Night by Alcazar 1453 times on my iPod, I need to tell someone that I weapt as I sold my small and Precious (UK 1999) ESC DVD collection which I'd hidden under my bed for two years as I couldn't risk my mum finding them once I'd moved to university, I just need to tell someone and let it all out before I accidently lose my mind and do something adverse like...like... well something adverse and Eurovision related (possibly).
And that, my friends, is the purpose of this blog. I'll be returning here every so often (and hopefully you will too) noting my thoughts and feelings (yeah, ramblings) on that international event we all love so dearly. I'll document my daily struggle not to blurt out "BOM" in the street or burst into the entire Stay the Night routine which I have embarrassingly learnt step by step, off by heart. Fingers crossed my suffering will of some entertainment to someone out there.
Goodnight Europe!
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Social recluse 6 Saturdays of the year? With the power of Youtube, surely you can be a social recluse every Saturday of the year? Those videos of Telex in 1980 aren't going to watch themselves, you know.
ReplyDeleteArrrghh Telex were very, very weird! I don't know if I could spend more than a good ten minutes of my time 'experiencing' them! Credit where it's due, though, for actually aiming for last place at Eurovision!
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