I went off to Kadek’s great Eurovision party on Saturday! I got all dressed up in my galaxy pyjama bottoms, my Russian alphabet top and my cat shoes.
Everything about my outfit said “drugs.”
Or at least “Drug-fuelled visions of being a Soviet cosmonaut.”
We went along to a nearby Tesco to grab some dip for the Pringles. Last year I got dip in advance, at the same time as the Pringles, and by Eurovision it was slightly bad, and I think this contributed to my puke-fest. Mainly though, it was Louise (or “Louse” according to her cup) mixing me THAT drink.
Anyway, we were in the Tesco and the man at the till looked SO DISAPPROVING of us but didn’t say anything because of the professional setting. He just scrunched up his face a bit. Somebody made him king of the fun-police apparently.
I finally met Faff properly after once encountering her in a hallway and then hearing about her for so long.
|I’m not actually sure what I’m doing back there. But by my head is that MOUTH PILLOW I will ramble about later.|
I know that Kadek worked very hard making a cake but I honestly can’t remember the cake itself. I do recall Louise asking me if I liked marzipan, to which I replied “NO, MARZIPAN IS OF THE DEVIL” and that was perhaps related to the fact that there was a cake around.
|Cats like wheelchairs.|
|If I never see vodka again it’ll be too soon.|
|Czech out my nails.|
|The t-shirt I originally wanted to wear last year. It made more sense when I was backing Russia’s song.|
|Estonia’s contestant looked like Ben to me.|
|Lithuania’s was a more casual Ben.|
I got quite drunk, really. I wasn’t sick this time, but I felt pretty rough by the end. I have vague memories of having a cigarette by the open window with Louise and Faff, before at some point realising that I needed to lie down and sleep to avoid otherwise having a vomit.
Louise put some stuff down to make a mattress for me, and I put my sleeping bag on top. I did have my so-called “intestine pillow” with me but I wanted a cushion to put underneath it. For some reason I thought the aforementioned mouth pillow was a good idea. It was horridly uncomfortable. Later on in the morning I realised I had the volition to get a different and more sensible cushion to put my pillow on top of.
My sleep was fragmented but it was a really good night. Kadek and I got burgers the next day, my hungover brain was telling me “burgers are great” all morning.
I am so bummed that the Czech Rep got absolutely zero points in the televoting! They are in second-to-last place! Which is one place lower than the UK’s always-terrible entry! And Bulgaria came 4th, which I suppose is pretty good, but I’m surprised people didn’t like it more.
Here are snippets of all the songs from this year, including the ones missed by people who didn’t see the semi-finals.
The eventual winner was Jamala (Susana Camaladinova), a Crimean Tatar representing Ukraine. There are a few things that baffle me about this.
Mainly, the song didn’t actually register on my radar as a possible winner as I can’t actually seem to remember the tune of it for more than 5 minutes.
On the surface, it’s about Stalin’s ethnic-cleansing of Crimea in retaliation to Tatars voluntarily joining the Nazis. However, everyone reckons it’s actually about the “fuck Russia at all times” attitude Eurovision seems to have. This surprises me because I have only previously heard Crimean views in support of Russia. They literally voted for the annexation and haven’t liked the way they’ve been treated since being part of Ukraine. But evidently there are differing views among Crimeans because one of them went to Eurovision with a song about it.
I’m also surprised that the song got as far as it did, as the Eurovision rules forbid political lyrics or gestures (it literally is supposed to be a singing contest). I think it was Georgia(?) who were told to change the lyrics in something so in the end they submitted a different song. Plenty of other things don’t get anywhere near the semi-finals with lyrics even close to this.
The English translation of the Tatar chorus is allegedly “I did not spend my youth there, because you took away my land.” and I certainly identify with that.
There’s honestly nothing I hate more than the vile actions that collectively form ethnic-cleansing. It’s weird trying to discuss these things with English people because the number 1 response is “ethnicity doesn’t matter.” People think they are being super progressive when they say this. But they aren’t.
English people rarely have to contend with their own differences in ethnicity (in fact the average person in the street probably couldn’t tell you their own), but for a lot of other countries, ethnicity is a life and death matter. It is a vitality woven tightly into the fabric of someone’s sense of self and well-being and belonging.
People say, oh Letti, don’t worry about the latest violence in Brittany, ethnicity doesn’t matter, you shouldn’t care about these people because they are the same ethnicity as you, ethnicity is meaningless (this is an actual quote).
Ethnicity mattered to my mother’s Breton family who had to leave their homeland.
Ethnicity mattered to our opposite-neighbours when I was younger; they recognised our ethnicity because of their own, and in response they shot a fireworks rocket at our roof and set our house on fire (this was in England, not Brittany).
Ethnicity mattered to the Arab Jews on my family tree who had to flee the Mandate of Palestine.
Ethnicity mattered to my Bosniak relatives persecuted in a genocide.
Ethnicity mattered so much to Yugoslavia that wars and genocides broke out and resulted in the formation of several new countries (Bosnia, Croatia, Slovenia, Kosovo, Serbia, Montenegro, Macedonia).
Ethnicity mattered enough for the Kosovo War (you can ask Rita Ora about that one).
Ethnicity mattered to the Crimean Jews that the Tatars sided with the Nazis against.
And evidently, ethnicity mattered enough to Eurovision viewers in order for this song to win.
Here are some notebook doodles.
|Trying to get one of those habit-tracker things going. Obviously I haven’t coloured in squares for things today that I don’t know if I’ve successfully done yet.|
|Item number 1 successfully ticked off!|
|I was tracking my food before but I got lazy about colouring it in right away, so I just dashed it with coloured pen.|
I have actually lost my 8-colour pen somehow. I wasn’t even home to do it, but I’ve done it!
I finally managed to get Fluoxetine on Saturday after more than a week without it. It takes 2 weeks to kick back in so I still feel a bit weird. Depression gives me a weird kind of numbness that makes everything feel like a constant daydream. It’s hard to remember that I’m talking to real people and doing real things, so I hope I haven’t done anything too horrendous.