I tried to buy Taylor Swift Eras Tour in Australia. As a Swiftie I wasn't expecting the intensity of the Ticketek 'lounge'

I thought I was prepared for the Taylor Swift Eras Tour ticket drop. I wrote 1300 words on the best tips Frontier and Ticketek were giving out to fans. And yet it only took one hour into sale time before I was hating anyone and everyone who had managed to score their tickets while I was still left waiting.

I had my devices - three of them, all with separate accounts and Frontier codes - ready to go at 9pm on Tuesday. I was in charge of getting four tickets for me and my friends, as everyone else had meetings when tickets dropped for the Sydney shows at 10am on Wednesday. So I collected their booking codes, and I was ready to go into battle. Or, as Swifties have since been calling it, The Great War (named after one of the singer's recent songs).

If truth be told, I stumbled upon the fact that the Ticketek online waiting area or "lounge" was open more than 12 hours before tickets went on sale. I was planning to log in come Wednesday morning like everyone was told to do. So the fact that I had found what I thought to be a loophole gave me a false sense of confidence. Perhaps, I would get let in first for tickets? Someone had to be, right?

So I woke up in the morning ready to get my tickets and get out again. I put on a lavender jumper (it seemed appropriate considering how many times I had listened to Lavender Haze since Taylor Swift's latest album Midnights came out last year). I sat down at my computer (and other devices) to start my work day and waited anxiously for 10am.

By 9.30am I had many a good-luck message from friends - both who were Swifties trying to get tickets and others who just knew how much I wanted them. I even had a friend send me a post from Queensland Police reminding Swifties that even if you come up with a "Blank Space" when trying to get tickets, it does not warrant a call to Triple Zero. Apparently, it does not constitute an emergency? Who would have thought?

Then 10am hit and then ... nothing. The Ticketek page just sat there, refreshing itself every 10 seconds, taunting me more than any holding music could have.

Every time the page flashed, I jumped, hoping to see that I had been let in unlike the million times before. Even though Ticketek confirmed the page was running and people were getting tickets, I didn't believe them. Where was the proof?

"These tickets better not be going to non-fans," I thought to myself. "Only real fans should be getting these tickets. Not people who buy them on a whim."

By 11am, I had come to the conclusion that the definition of torture was a Swiftie waiting for Taylor Swift tickets. I had been anxious since the tour's announcement the week before but being in the queue was next level. The adrenaline of being alert all of the time had me both wired and drained.

There was a point where I made myself a coffee in 10-second increments just in case it let me in the meantime. Considering how on edge I was, coffee probably wasn't a good idea anyway.

I kept a telehealth appointment at 11.15am - thinking that I would be done with tickets by then - and started the session by saying "I'm sorry but I am in line for Taylor Swift tickets. I may have to purchase them mid-appointment." Luckily, it was a predicament that my dietitian knew all too well. She already had a few appointments cancel that day in the name of concert tickets.

I left that appointment not only without tickets but to find that people I knew were proudly announcing on social media they had managed to snag tickets.

I should have been happy for them - these people who I knew were Swifties themselves - but honestly, the pang of jealousy in my stomach was too strong to ignore. Why them and not me? Did Ticketek not know that I was in the top 0.5 per cent of Taylor Swift listeners on Spotify last year? I have a physical copy (and in some instances, multiple copies) of every single one of her albums. Even the Christmas album! Did that not count for anything?

By 1pm, after spending three hours in the queue, I messaged a friend asking at what point was I allowed to start crying. I was not prepared for how intense the pressure to get tickets would be. It wasn't even just the time in queue, it was all the emotions that came with it.

I thought back to the Australian Bureau of Statistics stat that had been released the night before. Only 450,500 people will get tickets to the first five Taylor Swift concerts in Australia (she has since released two more). To put it another way, that's only 1.7 per cent of the population. 1.7 per cent!

As ridiculous as it sounds, I have never hated the ABS before but I was pretty close on Wednesday afternoon.

"How dare they lay out the facts that way," I remember thinking. "That's not helping."

The benefit of hindsight is that I can now see how good that social media post is - fair play, ABS social media team. Fair play.

It's just I never wanted to be part of the 1.7 per cent more than at that moment.

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Less than an hour later, while I was mid-interview with someone for a story (because, yes, I was still working through all of this), Ticketek announced that the Sydney presale had sold out.

It's onto plan B - wait in line for Melbourne - feeling more dejected than anything. All of that time in line for nothing. Why would Melbourne be any different?

The thought of me in my perfect Eras outfit - that I had already spent months planning - sitting in the front row (or any row) at the concert was slipping through my fingers.

"Is having a funeral for my Taylor Swift Eras experience too dramatic? Because I feel like I need to grieve?" I messaged my friend. In response, he jumps onto the Melbourne presale to try and get tickets for me as well.

But it was no use.

By 4.10pm I got the news that the Melbourne presale had also sold out. It was over and I still didn't have tickets. I had not survived the "Great War".

Heartbroken, I got in the car. For the first time all day, I put on a Spotify playlist intending to avoid Taylor Swift songs, and I drive to an interview and photoshoot trying not to cry. I promise myself that I will regroup on Thursday in time for Friday's general sale, but for now, I'm allowed to feel rubbish.

That night I was having dinner on the couch and I got a message.

"My friend is still on the Sydney presale. She says there are still VIP packages available." There was a glimmer of hope.

I log in on my phone and I get straight in. It was true - there were still packages available. I message the Swiftie group chat asking my friends if they're OK paying $200 more than we planned. It was an instant yes, but combined with the slow system it was too long for the seven-minute timer you have to complete your purchase.

But the point was, I got in. We were so close!

For the next two hours - and with all of the devices up and running again - I wait to try and get back into the ticketing system.

With considerably fewer people in line, I managed to get in a total of four times - each time getting timed out trying to get four tickets, together, in whatever section we could.

Among the messages of "This website sucks" and "It's a marathon, not a sprint" coming in the group chat, there were also messages encouraging me to just get one if it meant one of us could go.

As much as I wanted to see Taylor Swift and as much as I was hating on everyone who already had tickets (not to mention the Ticketek system itself), I didn't want to go without sharing the experience with someone.

Then came the fourth time I got into the ticketing system - and the first that had been on my laptop and not a phone or tablet. Everything seemed to work smoother on the laptop - it was slower than ideal but not as bad as the other devices. I reached the payment page with three minutes to go. The light was at the end of the tunnel.

Holding my breath I watched the processing page spin around until the words I had been waiting for all day appeared on the screen. "Your tickets have been confirmed".

It was almost 24 hours between setting up my devices for the first time and getting tickets and those 24 hours were both one of the worst and best of my life. And the art of getting Taylor Swift tickets felt more like an extreme sport than I thought it would.

I have never been so elated and buying those tickets may be the greatest achievement of my life. I literally screamed and did a happy dance when it happened - and I may have scared the dogs in the process.

"I'm a mastermind," I messaged my friends, referencing one of Swift's songs.

"We're going to Taylor Swift."

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