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Sunday, 05 July 2015

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Is sun setting on the old style of US politics?

AS the nights continued to be dark and long, I am subsequently becoming obsessed with American politics.

With a new president guaranteed at the end of the year, I am finding the whole leadership race incredibly exciting.

I have been vegging out on the sofa, channel hopping to find any news of what is happening to Hillary Clinton or Barack Obama.

Even if you find politics dull, there is something fascinating about the American presidency race. Much as the English love to show the world how to do regal pomp and ceremony, the Americans are the experts at throwing an election.

There is the flag-waving patriotism, combined usually with a sex scandal, mixed with a dash of Hollywood glamour, and of course, the sheer scale of the country with all its different beliefs.

Apparently, 71 per cent of Americans want change believing their country is on the wrong track. Could the USA be led this time next year be someone who isn’t white or male?

As a female, I find following Hillary Clinton’s campaign particularly fascinating. Here is a woman who is incredibly smart, capable and politically experienced, and yet it seems her the votes only came in for her when she nearly shed a tear over her shock third place result in Iowa.

“The ice woman thaws’’ seems to be the consensus about her rare show of emotion. It might be 2008, but an intelligent, ambitious woman still needs to show she can cry before the public accept her.

I CELEBRATED my 40th birthday over the Christmas period (no, it is not all down hill from here, thanks for asking). I would like to pass on my appreciation for all the lovely gifts, bottles of champagne and cards.

I was also sent by family and friends several long forgotten photos of me wearing bridesmaid dresses, skimpy bikinis and other garments which I shall never, ever be donning again, including my favourite green suede jacket which I wore aged 20 with the collar hacked off using nail scissors (very studenty, my mother banned it from the house).

Talking about my mother, I also need to thank her for the fab party she threw in my honour.

For the occasion she cooked all my favourite food and baked me a ‘princess’ cake (which comprises of a doll surrounded by a sponge skirt covered in lots of sweets. Forget Jane Asher, this was the cake to have back in 1976).

She also devised some party games including a ‘pass the parcel’ which was so complex the kids had to ring NASA for help with the rules. Of course, I didn’t complain because my mother manipulated the music so that I won the final parcel and it just happened to be some Chanel perfume.

I’d say it was probably the best party I’ve ever been to!


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