Like most people who definitively lack creative outlets after hving babies, I find myself engaged with what I call mini obsessions from time to time. They allow me to wrap myself in something just long enough to become convinced that I ave a place in this world and that I can still enjoy things outside of my apartment once in a while.
I find myself oddly attracted to various publications on the net. I've recently becoming just slightly obsessed with Othman O'Malley's columns about the Middle East. I've taken to defending him in the comment section of his articles, published occasionally by the Daily Illini. Don't ask me why; I don't think he particularly appreciates or needs it, but his opinions are definitely fringe when it comes to things like the Israeli Palestinian conflict, and the hijab.
For a while I read every online issue of the Sun.
As far as music goes, I've listened to Omar Faruk Tekbilek's "I Love You" oh...81,938,283 times this week.
On a slightly more self-destructive note (I wouldn't be me without my need to not succeed), I found myself e-mailing a man who came to meet me as a prospective husband once. I'd just finished reading the first book I'd had enough time to read in 11 months when it occured to me that the only Afghan I'd ever met (him) was him (the book was about Afghanistan, I don't just ponder about random ethnic groups), , and since I'm now emotionally involved with the book just because it IS the first book I've finished in months, well...I thought we should catch up. Thankfully, unlike SOME annoying single ex-something-or-others, he's married. So, we can correspond disfrequently with no impropriety. Though I still have no plans to tell my husband.
*SIGH* If only all my ex something or others (both of them) would just get married, I could officially write them off my list of things I wish had never happened.
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