Close your eyes and picture that special time of year when we all come together to celebrate our shared history and culture through a magical song festival we call Eurovision. Some songs are epic, others are just epicly bad, and a small elite are simply unforgettable. Every year, we can look forward to the drama that is the build-up to ESC, from the undeniable fact that no national final will ever be as epic as Mello, to dealing with Russia's excuse of a song, to getting together to decide who's going to give that song a single pity point. Then comes the actual event, from the suspense of the semis to the epic party the day of the Grand Final to cheering for your favorite country and either soaring in elation when they win, or, more likely, crawling away to cry yourself to sleep when they come in last.
Part of the fun is making bets on the winning country. This year, my MorMor's money is on Sweden, mine in on Norway, on my mum's is on Australia. The odds aren't in my favour, but that's nothing new. Last year, I betted on France. Last year, France came last place. With two pity points. Two.
(Something gives me the feeling I'm going to be out of a few krona on May 24th.)
My personal favourite part of the whole Eurovision scene is the party. More specifically, my favorite part is the party food. Last year, we had food from all over Europe and my friend baked a Eurovision cake that got retweeted literally billions of times. It was fun.
With Eurovision only two months away, the excitement is starting to build in Casa de Kaija. Eurovision is sacred to me.
And, on that note, I found an Obscure Word of the Day that Means Something Eurovision Isn't This Year: euonymous - appropriately named