Calling all Theater companies and performers!

Open Call to Theater companies, performers, researchers:
I would like to hear other voices besides my own on this blog. If you'd like to write about your TLP experiences here, e-mail them to me and I'll put them up.
Topics can include dramaturgy to staging to personal responses to the play. Anything goes!

Wednesday, March 31, 2010

A Day in the Life of an Straight, Conservative, Evangelical Fledgling LGBT Activist

Okay, so today the LGBTA had a fundraising bake sale to get funds to bring in a speaker to campus, and since I've been hanging out with them,  I said I'd help out.  (If you're new, I've talked about how I ended up in this situation before.  Jesus takes me strange places-- just run with it.)  I didn't have the time to sit at a table hocking homemade brownies, so I offered to make some stuff for them to sell. 

(Easter at Home, originally uploaded by jellybeanjill13.)

Anyhow, I make these awesome little cookies (or candies, actually) that sell really well-- you take a grid pretzel, stick a Rolo candy on top, and pop them in the oven at 250 for 4 minutes, just until the Rolo gets mooshy.  Then you slap a pecan half right on top of it and smash them together.  They're like little pecan turtles with a crunchy pretzel base, and they're amazing.  (Try making some and see for yourself.)  I made about eight dozen of them for the LGBTA bake sale the next day.

So, there I am, surrounded by cookie sheets of little candies, putting them in little baggies to sell the next day, and something about the whole situation just struck me as outrageously funny: I'm turning thirty in a month, I'm a hammer-headed evangelical Christian, and I'm baking cookies for 18 year old lesbians.  I turned to my husband, who was desperately trying to get a computer analysis program run for his dissertation research. 
"Um, Honey?"  I asked him.  His eyes drifted up to see me surrounded by little packages of baked goods. 
"What's up?"  He asked.  I held up a baggie full of cookies.
"Am I turning into a homosexual den mother?"  I asked him. 
Silence.  His eyes got a strange light in them. 
"Do you really want me to answer that, Jackrabbit?" He finally said with a grin. 
 "Nah," I decided,  "I guess not." 

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