LAURA CARTLEDGE Life’s like That...It may not be strictly correct, but I have been talking politics

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We all know there are social taboos. When it come to conversations it is sound advice to steer clear of sex, religion and politics. The topics just don’t make for polite conversation.

I suppose this means that this column should come with a disclaimer. Similar to the ones you see on food packaging warning this product may contains nuts, this column may contain politics. Which arguably could be seen as the same thing.

Politics is nuts. One look at Boris Johnson on a bicycle will tell you that. But I have to confess – personally I have a soft spot for Boris. He is, after all, everything politicians try desperately to pretend they are not. He makes mistakes, he is not connected to reality and he is more than a little bit odd. Three qualities which almost seem to be necessary requirements if you want to enter the world of Westminster.

The majority of politicians seem to have bypassed the real world – going straight from the nanny, to Eton, to the comfy green benches of government. Where they communicate by saying ‘yah’ and nodding at each other.

This annoyance of mine is not a new one. And I think the parties have a lot to answer for. All too quickly do papers point out how few people cast their votes, with the conclusion being that people don’t care.

I don’t think that is fair. The main reason my friends say they don’t vote is because all the parties seem the same and they don’t think their vote will count. And to be honest I can’t really blame them. With all the confusion and name-calling it can feel like being back in the playground. But I for one am determined to look past it all. Granted there are days when I really wish I didn’t care. It would be so much easier.

And I do have more interesting things to do with my time than try to translate speeches, broadcasts and manifestos into plain English.

But I read, I questioned and I even, shock horror, wandered into the dangerous territory of talking about it.

And when I left the polling station it felt good to know I had left my mark, even if it was just in pencil on paper.