28 November 2000
My parents took Matt and I out to dinner at the Peddler for his birthday last night. The dinner was delicious, though my peanut butter pie beats theirs without even trying.
 
While we were at dinner, Dad mentioned a rumor he'd heard - he didn't say where, though he said he'd heard it from several different sources - that the Girl Scouts are going to begin "actively recruiting" lesbians for its leader ranks.
 
It almost started an argument. The Boy Scouts, in which my father is very active, strongly opposes homosexual scoutmasters, and my father agrees. I think it's idiotic. Even Dad admits it's a matter of perception: In the minds of parents, gays are perverts, and therefore are going to be trying to seduce their children while they're off in the woods. He admitted he knew that wasn't true; that "homosexual" and "pedophile" aren't the same thing, and that in fact it's probably likely that homosexuals are even less likely to be pedophiles than heterosexuals.
 
But because that's the popular perception, he thinks the Boy Scouts are doing the right thing by banning gays from their ranks.
 
My point was that by doing so, the Boy Scouts are perpetuating an incorrect stereotype and prolonging prejudice and hatred and closed-mindedness. I sympathize with parents who want their children to be safe from sexual perverts. Who wouldn't? But I think they could find a much better way of going about it. The people who decided this was a good policy are the same people who try to ban sex education from schools, with the absurd belief that this will stop kids from having sex.
 
Of course, Dad's "several sources" didn't say what they meant by "actively recruiting" either. No matter what you believe on the matter, I don't think a lesbian scout leader is going to be a selling point. But if by "actively recruiting" they mean that the Girl Scouts are going to make it known that they will not be excluding homosexual women, then I applaud them. They're doing the right thing, and I think in the long run it will promote tolerance, understanding, and trust.
 
I've had a number of gay and bisexual friends over the years, and I'd trust most of them with a child long before I'd trust any number of my straight friends. If you want to believe that homosexuality is a perversion, that's your right, and I'm not going to try to argue it with you - but for petesake, stop confusing it with the perversion of pedophilia!

 
I realized last night that Matt and I need to do the bulk of our Christmas shopping in the next ten days. Because after that, we're going to be in Chicago for a weekend, and if we order anything when we get back, the packages may not arrive in time to be wrapped and re-shipped. And a week after that, I'm having the surgery on my foot, which means I need to get serious about planning my Christmas baking.
 
Of course, we talked about a cookie swap while we were on the MeadeHall last night, and I've been plannning for over a month now to send stockings with cookies and such in them to our grandparents this year.
 
I came up with five different treats I need to make, and most of them need to be made in multiple batches. Black Gold cookies. Ashby clamored for breakfast cookies. Two kinds of fudge (regular and peanut butter). And moon cookies.
 
The moon cookies can easily be made after I've had my surgery. In fact, the weekend of my surgery is probably going to be the best time to make them. K.T. volunteered to help, so we'll gather the ingredients and meet at my parents' house (pending their approval) and make cookies. The recipe is easy, so I can let the others actually make the dough, and then I'll just sit at the table and press dough into molds.
 
But I'm looking at my calendar, and the weekend after that is going to be too late to do any baking that's going to have to be sent out as gifts, so I'll have to have at least one batch of everything made before my surgery, because I'm not going to be capable of moving around the kitchen with ease for the entire week afterward. I really meant it when I said I'd have to start baking as soon as we got back from Chicago. Hmm. I guess I could make one batch of something every evening between our trip to Chicago and my surgery - that should ensure that I have enough cookies on hand for the batches that will have to be shipped. And then if my foot is up to it, I can have a whirlwind weekend of baking just before Christmas.
 
Come to think of it, fudge takes a long time to make but keeps for weeks if you put it in an airtight container. Maybe I should make the fudge this weekend. Hmm. Something to consider...
 
Things will be hectic, yes indeedy. But fun, I'm hoping. They'd be a good deal less hectic without the interloper of my surgery, but I really want my foot to be healthy in time for spring. The Ultimate Frisbee group is talking about playing tennis and raquetball and going bowling over the winter, and I really want to jump in on the conversation (suggesting my favorite brand of non-competitive tennis, for example), but I don't know when I'll be able to even manage bowling, much less tennis or raquetball.
 
Stupid foot.

 
Tonight we're meeting K.T. and Kevin and Ashby (who's in town visiting) to see The Grinch. And Braz and Kris are probably also coming, and maybe Jeremy and Elizabeth as well, though Tuesday is their habitual night out together.
 
It's a good thing we're going during the week, when things are likely to be less crowded. There's going to be a mob of us.
 
I've heard some people say they don't want to see this movie - that it's just not The Grinch - it's just not Christmas - without Boris Karloff singing, "You're a mean one, Mr. Grinch!" But while I have to agree with them that this movie is never going to replace the TV animated special, I've really loved what I've seen of the trailers and previews, and I can't wait to see the movie.
 
And having worked in a movie theater, I know it's best to see a movie fairly early, before it's been broken and spliced together too many times.
 
Ah, well, it's time to start my day. You have a good one!

 
Word of the Day: interloper - a person who intrudes or interferes wrongly; an intruder
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