We're packing

Ka and myself are hurriedly putting the last few things in our cases. We're leaving the country. Alex Salmond's in charge!
Alex Salmond has been all over the news and the tv for the past few days thanks to the election results so it'll make our short holiday away all the more worthwhile.
If the coalition government has done one thing for Britain so far it's help push the Scottish people over the edge. The SNPs have won a majority government in Scotland thanks to the disillusionment of Labour supporters, not to mention the removal of any support of the Lib Dems and Tories. Then again with that bloke in charge of Labour, Iain Gray, Gray with a capital GRAY, they never really stood much of a chance. I think I actually nodded off the few times I seen him speaking on the news, inadvertently dropping my biscuit in my tea.
Hate it when that happens. Soggy biscuit lying in a pile of mush at the bottom of your cup as you finish. Must be even worse for muffins. Jillian managed to drop a muffin in her tea the other day?! It was a mini muffin to be fair, not one of the mother muffins you get out of the supermarket bakeries or Starbucks shops. Jillian was not listening to Iain Gray though.
I wonder how many perfectly good cups of tea Iain Gray has ruined? Maybe that's why he's quitting? Gray had wanted 'root and branch reform'. So he was blaming the tea.
Anyway, that's reminded me. Teabags. Must remember to take some good British tea to Ibiza with us (who says I'm too old for Ibiza?!). Good British Nambarrie tea.
Whilst writing this, I have just received an email from Kenny in Oz, ordering me to visit a bar in San Antonio, named Kilty's. Apparently it sells bottles of buckie. I've only had one gulp of buckie in my whole life but hey, you never know.
I'd better go and weigh these cases again. We've borrowed a luggage weighing device from my Mum and Dad in order to ensure we come within the correct weights specified for our flights. When I say 'we' I mean of course, Ka's case. I'm fine. 10 and a half kg. Easy.
Ka is coming in at just under 15. For a moment we were almost taking her big Revlon hair dryer. Ka made me phone Ibiza to make sure the hotel rooms have hair dryers. Then, after I had come off the phone, she realised she had to know whether there were ironing facilities. Ironing facilities? Just hang your clothes up, I said. But no, we need an iron. Our clothes have to be neatly pressed. Even in Ibiza. So a second phonecall to the same hotel receptionist was made. The Spanish lady sniggered slightly on the other end of the line and politely brushed my apologies aside. She'll no doubt be a little puzzled when a balding man in a creased t-shirt turns up tonight at her reception booking in under the same name.

Virtual dominoes and the giant iPad

Well, it's over. So what the hell happens now? Is Cameron going to force Brown out? Hmmm, that didn't sound right...
I haven't sat and watched so many politicians and tv political pundits since 1997 when a grinning bloke from Edinburgh victoriously took to the stage.
After making the polling station at quarter to ten I arrived home, sat and watched at least two and a half hours worth, flicking between the BBC channels, the STV channel and Channel 4's alternative election night. The BBC had the two main channels dedicated with Jackie Bird craning her neck at us as usual and on One David Dimbleby, the BBC's head teacher, and the English broadcasters on Two. A rather lovely replacement to Peter Snow, Emily Maitlis, used a fantastic, full height iPad to illustrate what was going on with the latest results, using her touch screen to zap maps, graphs and stats up in various colourful guises. Jeremy Vine jumped about a digital map of Britain like a weatherman in Tron and then played a game of virtual dominoes, each piece representing a fallen MP. What a fantastic job it must be to help liven up these programmes. How to make political elections understandable to the masses - use virtual dominoes and giant iPads! All this while Jeremy Paxman shouted at MPs around his table up in the box like balcony of the studio, like a solo Statler and Waldorf.
Some of the television panelists were also outraged and raving about how disgraceful and disorganised it all was. Crowds of disgruntled folk being turned away from polling stations as they had turned up too late in the day or obvioulsy could not have got out of bed early enough. The commentators made it sound like all hell was breaking loose, with reports of the police being called in, people tearing their hair out, polling stations forcing their doors locked, jamming complaining voters' flailing arms or toes in the process, angry mobs shouting what for (literally). The view would then switch from the studio to a gloomy looking street in Sheffield where a long line of bored looking people stood morosely wondering why they were being filmed. A bloke in the background holding up a piece of card scibbled in felt pen, 'Hello Mum'. Then switching his card to another which read, 'I decided against the libs'.

The views of a DiMaggios waitress

Election Day at last, and not a moment too soon. I won't be getting to the local polling station till late tonight though. Hopefully the lingering MPs will have all gone home by that point or gone to a more central voting station. It's all well and good going along and showing your support for one of these people by scribbling an X in a box but actually standing and listening to someone explain to you why you've made that decision or why you've made the wrong one is something I can't really be bothered with. I'd rather dive into the booth, sign with an X and hurriedly make like a tree.
On Saturday night Chaz and myself sat in the Atrium, having a beer listening to a female waitress from New Jersey harp on about what she thought of the election and the voting system. The waitress had come over from a DiMaggios across the road but was under the impression she was the sole speaker at some sort of political rally. In one short break I commented some form of response, making some sort of vague comparison on American politics and the waitress simply looked at me, as if insulted.
"Are you, a scot, talking to me about American politics?".
I wondered what gave her the right to voice what she thought of our politics, in her lengthy one way conversation, and why we were not permitted to talk about the American equivalent. As I huffily returned to my drink I continued to listen to the waitress, wishing her back to America as she talked on. I'm sure there's plenty of DiMaggios over the Atlantic! Better watch what I say there, I'm verging on the immigration concerns of Gillian Duffy.

Dire states

Does anyone still care about the whole presidential election in America? How much longer must it go on for? Along with the seemingly repeated news flashes of how global shares are in dire states, the panic on Wall Street and how our country is suffering as a result with banks, building societies and airlines slumping or closing all we hear about is moaning and fear mongering from the press about who is running what country. If it's not about Barack Obama and John McCain over the pond, it's about Gordon Brown and what a disaster he is making of his first year in office as PM. Give us a break and give it a rest. Let these guys do their jobs and get on with it. What can we British possibly do about any American elections (Obama! Obama! Obama!) and what is the deal with everyone attacking Brown? Is he solely responsible for the state of the financial market in the UK at the moment? Of course not! I almost wish they'd go back to the latest on Amy Winehouse, where she's been, what she's been doing and what she had for dinner last night. No, in fact, maybe it's not quite that bad yet... As my Aunt Ann said to me last week, the UK has seen a lot worse financial times (thanks to the Tories mostly) and probably will again. This ain't the worst of it. We still may have another year to go, at least.