I have been absent...

So I graduated. I'm now officially MA (Hons) Politics, having been robed, given a red cardboard tube with my diploma in and tapped on the head with a hat (made from John Knox' trousers my boyfriend claims) by the ever unpopular Anton Muscatelli of Glasgow University.

 So far not being a student is pure bliss, as I've spent my days lazily reading (fun not academic!) books from the library both in Edinburgh and Sweden. Unemployment looms ever more threateningly in the future but I put job-seeking off just for the moment as I savor the splendours of summer, like swimming in the ocean and going for walks in the park with my dog. 

In September, after 4 years of Scottish rain and incomprehensible accents I shall be leaving Bonnie Caledonia for the 18% annual housing price increases and 5 pound pints of London. You can tell I'm a person with a positive outlook on life. 

Anyway, I thought I'd sum up some of my time as a Scottish resident, more for my own sake than that of my nonexistent readers. Here goes.

1. In first year I went out too much and realised I don't actually like going out that much. 

2. In second year I got lots of friends, lost quite a lot of friends a while later and realised I don't actually like making friends that much. I'm quite like David Mitchell in that respect, I suppose. 

3. In second year I also met my future boyfriend. Became friends with him, realised we had spooky amounts of stuff in common (e.g. shared love of Harry Potter and geekiness about politics). It genuinely changed my life completely. I'm happier with myself, with my life and I twonkin' love the man. Yay!

4. In third year I hung out with my boyfriend and did not enough uni work. I also decided I didn't like Glasgow that much. I did a course on the moral case for military intervention which I loved and a course on Democratisation that I hated. 

I started off my dissertation by immediately getting behind on my dissertation, fueled by an intense and utterly irrational fear of my supervisor and anxiety about meeting her.

5. The following summer I tried and failed to get a couple of internships but eventually got one at a environmental foundation whose offices were in an old and amazing London building. Oh yes, I spent that summer in London and it was amazingly/ horribly hot the whole time.

6. In fourth year I focused more on uni work than the past three year's meagre efforts. I also moved to Edinburgh, to a flat on the Royal mile with swarms of tourists outside and a crazy neighbor. 

I somehow finished my dissertation and managed to scrape a B (I have no idea how!) and got a solid 2.1 degree overall, which I know is not the most impressive thing in the world but I am honestly so happy about.

7. Despite having given up on partying and socialising I managed not to give up on Politics and I find it more fun than ever. You should have seen me when I got the push updates on my phone about the reshuffle the other day. I was giddy with excitement and kept checking my phone in the pub. 

So here I am four years later. I probably didn't study as much as I should have and I've done some things that are so embarrassing that I cringe every time I think about them (they're not really that bad at all I am just a highly embarrassed and anxious person). 

But hey, I got a 2.1 and a boyfriend so I'm pretty damn happy.

Olympia Le-Tan Book Clutch

I'm definitely not the only one enamoured with the creations of Olympia Le-Tan and I'm probably not the only one who would still never ever spend over a thousand pounds on what's pretty much just a book without any pages in it. Still, I'm kind of tempted by the idea of bringing a bit of literary chic to the discotheque (that's what they call it these days, isn't it?). 

I never really buy little clutch bags as I don't really go out that much now that I'm not in first-year anymore and also, they're just really impractical, yeah? Too small to cram even my keys in (probably my fault for putting on a varied selection of keyrings, including but not limited to: a LEGO Ron Weasley, a Spitfire, a Battlestar Galactica fighter jet and a yellow Barbapapa) and so I end up either

1) Stuffing my coat pockets full of stuff

or

2) Getting my boyfriend to carry everything

or

3) Staying in and watching Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D.

Option number three wins in 95% of cases, I must confess.

Anyway, I am now torn between the urge to get crafty and make my own book clutch (can't be that hard?) and the horror of buying a book and then tearing out all the pages.

In other news, I am home in Sweden, doing nothing but eating the vastly-superior-to-British sweets that are on offer in the shops (salty liquorice and faux-fancy elephant-shaped chocolates) and playing with my new Nexus 7 tablet. Oh, and I should be doing enormous amounts of dissertation work but let's ignore that, shall we. 

Complacency

Do you know that feeling of acquiring a piece of clothing that makes you a bit reluctant to wear anything else ever? I recently purchased this sweatshirt from TK Maxx men's section for 8 pounds (down from 50, they boldly claim) and I've kind of lost interest in wearing any other clothes now. It's grey, so goes with everything, but a bit faux-worn, so still interesting and most of all, it's COSY.

 I love clothes, I love dressing up and dressing down and wearing weird high-waisted tartan wool trousers with a deep blue suede coat with white faux fur trimming to school, but sometimes it's so exhausting, you know? I really like the 1930's schoolboy aesthetic but wooly sweaters are itchy as fuck. I love wearing tights and skirts and dresses but Edinburgh is so COLD right now and even if I taped two fleece blankets to my legs and called it tights, I'd still be shivering whenever I leave the flat which would severely impair my ability to dodge the American tourists on the Royal Mile. 

So I've resorted to wearing this sweater and a pair of H&M jeans at all times. I should probably wash it soon, but what would I wear while it's in the wash? I don't know! This may be the garment that made me lose all interest in fashion, but for the sake of this blog (and the sense of smell of those around me) I hope it passes soon.

Do you have any clothes that are so cosy and comfortable that you just, kind of, stop caring?