Malmö 2013 -if it's anything as interesting as The Bridge we'll be glued to our seats.
You might have forgotten, or have wanted to forget, but there's a Eurovision Song Contest again this year!
And what does it teach us about love, the greatest thing of all?
That love kills (Belgium) and yet Only love Survives (Ireland) on this Lonely Planet (Armenia). That Alcohol is Free in Greece, that Tomorrow (Malta) I feed you my love (Norway -oh dear). Straight into love (quite narrowminded of Slovenia, if you ask me), You (Sweden), You and me (Switzerland), Gravity (it rhymes (!) Ukraine), Believe in me (UK). Yay with the rhyming! Oh, and Samo Shampioni (Bulgaria), of course.
And also...
When you almost stop believing, you’re cold, alone and freezing
You think you’re lost and don’t know where to go
Look up to the starlit sky, reignite the fire
to quote the famous philisopher Natalia Something from Austria.
And that, my dears, is literally the only fucking thing I know about this year's Eurovision.
I've not heard a single song, I've not seen a single clip, I've not heard any speculation about who's breaking the glass stage (is there a glass stage?), what backdrop works for whom and why there are no overweight gay gentlemen singing solos dressed in lime green. I know nothing. Nothing.
I'm going for the virginal approach this year, the blank canvas, the "surprise me!"-attitude. Combined with the "oh my god, is it May already I'd totally forgotten about Eurovision this year"-panic attack.
And unless I get my shit together somewhere in the next week and a half, and start listening to something, that's probably going to stay that way (oh but the guilt, the guilt...).
Let's just say a lot of personal stuff has gone on these past few months and real life has been having a go at me. But I will be watching the show, of course.
I will be annoying my old neighbours (hello there football loving old people), as well as the new ones (hello there, maffiosi-type looking Spaniards) with three nights of Eurotrash and parties.
I have to enjoy it now, I've only got some ten years left before our eldest starts rolling his eyes at his mums and their friends and their antics on Eurovision night... I can just picture it now "but Mum... there are no guitars... what is this?" The horror!!
So, surprise me, Europe. Make it fabulous!
And what does it teach us about love, the greatest thing of all?
That love kills (Belgium) and yet Only love Survives (Ireland) on this Lonely Planet (Armenia). That Alcohol is Free in Greece, that Tomorrow (Malta) I feed you my love (Norway -oh dear). Straight into love (quite narrowminded of Slovenia, if you ask me), You (Sweden), You and me (Switzerland), Gravity (it rhymes (!) Ukraine), Believe in me (UK). Yay with the rhyming! Oh, and Samo Shampioni (Bulgaria), of course.
And also...
When you almost stop believing, you’re cold, alone and freezing
You think you’re lost and don’t know where to go
Look up to the starlit sky, reignite the fire
to quote the famous philisopher Natalia Something from Austria.
And that, my dears, is literally the only fucking thing I know about this year's Eurovision.
I've not heard a single song, I've not seen a single clip, I've not heard any speculation about who's breaking the glass stage (is there a glass stage?), what backdrop works for whom and why there are no overweight gay gentlemen singing solos dressed in lime green. I know nothing. Nothing.
I'm going for the virginal approach this year, the blank canvas, the "surprise me!"-attitude. Combined with the "oh my god, is it May already I'd totally forgotten about Eurovision this year"-panic attack.
And unless I get my shit together somewhere in the next week and a half, and start listening to something, that's probably going to stay that way (oh but the guilt, the guilt...).
Let's just say a lot of personal stuff has gone on these past few months and real life has been having a go at me. But I will be watching the show, of course.
I will be annoying my old neighbours (hello there football loving old people), as well as the new ones (hello there, maffiosi-type looking Spaniards) with three nights of Eurotrash and parties.
I have to enjoy it now, I've only got some ten years left before our eldest starts rolling his eyes at his mums and their friends and their antics on Eurovision night... I can just picture it now "but Mum... there are no guitars... what is this?" The horror!!
So, surprise me, Europe. Make it fabulous!