2003-10-23-2:42 a.m.
Thursday 23 Octobre
Did you know that the average first snowfall of the year in Québec is 18 Octobre?

Please note my new spelling of October. When in Rome, right?

François is actually chomping at the bit for snow to fall. I must be getting old, because that was supposed to be my job. I've always been the one in the family to get excited about things.

He said something pretty nice to me the other day. He said he was seeing everything in a new light, and he kind of hated himself for saying such pithy things. He said I helped him appreciate things. That was nice.

My parents are sending a box of my valuable fragile glass christmas ornaments. I'm a bit worried about them. We can't say they are worth anything for customs, but if they are all broken, the replacement value is an awful lot. I guess I should have expected that collecting fragile glass items.

In a few short hours, I am going to the palais de justice to make an appointment with François and his mother. This is, I imagine, to make sure we really want to marry. I hope. I am nervous and have all dirty clothes. There was a misunderstanding and Huguette thought that we were getting married that day. She "made plans," and I hope she was able to cancel them. I wonder what she was going to do, beside make dinner reservations. I'm sure it was just dinner reservations. If it's at a nice place, wtf am I ever going to wear? I wonder if François will spring for some kind of dress. He might enjoy watching me try on clothes, as his favorite television show is What Not To Wear. I'm not kidding.

2003-10-17-3:34 p.m.
This guy cares. He cares so much, he wrote a whole fucking essay about how much he doesn't care. He claims nobody else cares, either. Do you suppose that means everybody cares? I'm telling you, this guy is so extremely indifferent that he rants about - get this "the god of sodomy."

Oh, honey, really. It's okay, you know. But furtive masturbation to fantasies about Justin Timberlake isn't going to calm your frustrations. Just come out already!

I guess I'm trying to say hating gay people is just...gay.

Recipe of the Day
This is a recipe somewhat like François' grandmere used to make. It is hands down his favorite food. He ate a whole pie last night.

Pate au Saumon (salmon pie)

ingredients
5 potatoes, peeled and quartered
butter
1 can cream of celery soup
1 small onion
salt and pepper
4 small cans pacific salmon, or about 1 pound salmon, bones removed
Crust rolled much thinner than usual

If using real salmon, cook for a few minutes in a small bit of water on a medium stove. Mash up with fingers.
Boil the potatoes for about twenty minutes.
While potatoes are boiling, "sweat" chopped onions in frypan over medium heat.
Drain, mash potatoes.
Add condensed soup (without adding water) and enough butter to make decent mashed potatoes.
Add onions and salmon, mix.
Fill pie pan (with pastry) with salmon mixture. Cover with top crust. Flute edges. You might need to make two pies.
Cut slits in top of crust.
Put in 425 degree oven for 15 minutes.
Turn down to 350 degrees for another 30 minutes.

Serves 4 regular-sized or two fatties.

2003-10-17-1:56 p.m.
Friday 17 Octobre

It's Friday morning, I'm enjoying a breakfast of ham, eggs and coffee, and reading my daily links online. Someone refers me to an article. Before I can get through the article, which has my brow furrowed already, I notice one of his main links on top of his page is Support Young Life.

I immediately click on "x."

I mean, I have many, many sites bookmarked on François' computer. I don't have time to read them all.

Young Life is just a harmless youth group, right?

Young Life" is the name of our organization, and it's also what we call our outreach to high school-aged kids. We have named our middle school and junior high ministry "Wyldlife" to differentiate between the two age groups and their varying developmental stages and maturity levels. Both ministries stay true to the time-tested practices we've been using for more than 60 years: going where kids are, loving them unconditionally, earning the right to be heard and communicating God's love in terms kids can understand.

See what I mean? Any group that substitutes "y" for "i" must be stopped.

I'm only half-kidding. Young Life is not just a church youthgroup centered around an actual church. It isn't supported by the actual church these kids supposedly go to. It's a franchise. Part of being a McYouth Group is Aggressive Recruiting and Fundraising. They go into the schools after hours, and they're hunting for your children! I do mean to sound sinister! I say this sincerely and calmly. Keep an eye out for these people! Young Life is so creepy, you might as well send your kids out to a graveyard with a cat and a meat grinder.

Now that Halloween is upon us, my friends, I can offer you this cautionary tale as one who knows. I've been there-and lived to tell the tale.

I was dragged into this cult meeting with a friend who just "really wanted me to go." I entered a standard, upper-middle-class living room packedwith white, exceedingly well-behaved and well-dressed people, two of which had guitars.

The Horror! The Horror.

Were there snacks? Kool-Aide? Rice Krispie Squares?

Nada.

That right there should have sent me screaming out of the room. After all, several well-known cults such as EST, have been known to employ starvation techniques.

And bathroom deprivation. I really had to pee.

So I went to this group expecting Jesus. Bible stories. Discussions on staying chaste. A conversation about organizing a trip to the old folks' home. But what did I get? Two full hours of a brainstorming session on fundraising, interspersed with ideas about how we would get to spend the money.

I had the feeling the stuff about campouts and parties was just a carrot. You can't ever trust a fundamentalist. Especially the youth teen rock-n-ro ll-type leaders. They're the worst. I learned that early on in my life.

There's nothing like being in an evil organization to let you in on its more sinister aspects.

See, when you join a christian group, you don't get to slide on the good stuff, like church basement potlucks full of hot dish and lime jello with banana slices, or getting to sing about Jesus' blood every sunday. No, it's like The Godfather. When you Accept Jesustm, he says, "I am going to require your services in the future." You are now a certified representative of the church. You are now a recruiter. It's true. They have it in Scientology, too. You become a Field Supervisor. With Christianity, you get to be a Fisherman-or rather, a "Fisher of Men." (Throw the women back.) It's your job to go get people and bring 'em in. At least with Scientology, they say they'll pay you. With Christianity, it's just barely assurance that you might not go to hell-but you just can't be sure. Better go get some more lost sheep.

Every good salesman knows that in order to hook the pigeon-I mean, "customer," he's got to use all his resources. Butter him up. Lie. I'm not making this up. The worst false flattery I've ever received is from christians. Well, they sold Amway, too. Same difference.