Eurovision. I Don't Get It Either.

Ukraine. I still don't get it.

But I Love It

by Jo Michelmore

It comes to this time of the year (my favourite time of the year) and the comments start rolling in, the messages start increasing and the texts are never ending. Eurovision time. For me, better than Christmas. Better than Easter, better than Hanukkah, better than Chinese New Year, better than St Patricks Day, Mardi Gras and Oktoberfest. Better than the Queens Birthday long weekend. Combine all of them and it's better than that. Tis that time of year for my favourite thing, ever, ever.

Eurovision. You go to Sweden to see one once and everyone thinks you're an expert. I'm not complaining about that, I probably do know a little more than your average punter. And this year, even Australia gets to compete.

Yes, Australia, which isn't part of Europe. At all. I know. I don't get it as much as you don't. But the truth is, Eurovision? I didn't ever get it.

Germany sent gold sequined cowboys and disco girls sounding like S Club 7 in 2000. I didn't get that.

Finland sent a guy named Paradise in 2011. His song started with the words "Peter is smart, he knows each European country by heart". I didn't really get that. 

Spain sent a guy in 2008 who played 'Old McDonald' on a plastic toy guitar, I think (hope) he wore a wig and said "chiki chiki" a lot. I didn't get that, not even a little bit. 

Greece sent a bunch of guys dressed in futuristic medieval suits singing about passwords in 2002. I don't know their passwords and I certainly didn't get that.

Lithuania sent six businessmen to tell everyone they were the winners in 2006. They came sixth. I really didn't get that.

And Romania sent a operatic dubstep vampire to compete in 2013. That's the year I went and I still don't get it. But the thing about Eurovision is, that's all exactly what I love about it. Bad dancing, terrible costumes, sequins sequins sequins, awful lyrics, confusing pop and even more confusing rock, political voting, women with beards (don't tell me those Russian grannies didn't have facial hair issues) and glitter. Oh so much glitter. I don't get any of it and I don't want to because I ADORE it. In my dream world, it would be Eurovision day every single day of the year. Or I'd get to go every year. Or if nothing else, Guy Sebastian wins this year, so Australia can send someone as equally as awesome as Jedward next year. I never thought I'd say it, but pleeeeeeeeease win Eurovision Australia!

I know, I know. The hair. The shoulder pads. The bouncing. I don't get it either. But I LOVE it.