Deep thoughts about cancer and racism

The other day a nice lady about shat herself when she saw me walking with our cute baby (strapped in what's been called a Swedish Chest Saddle) and as we started chatting, she asked me if I "had a degree." When I said I was in law school, she--kid you not--shrieked and said "NO WAY! No way! GOOD for YOU! With a BABY?? Wow wow wow wow WOW!" and just stared. I laughed awkwardly and said something like "Hey, thanks, you're making me feel like a rockstar," and she said "You ARE a rockstar! LAW school??" And for a brief moment, I felt like I'd cured cancer. Then I remembered that all I'd done was get knocked up while enrolled in something that involves paying knowledgeable professionals to publicly berate and humiliate me and wasn't sure why I was being so congratulated. Sometimes, people act so surprised that I'm in law school, it makes me wonder if they think I'm quadriplegic and/or mentally challenged or some other supreme challenge that would make me a good motivational speaker. It also makes me wonder if they've ever opened a phone book and seen how many douches have made it through law school. In other news, Sunday hub and I caught part of the rebroadcast of the June 8th celebration of the 30th anniversary of extending the priesthood to all worthy males and it rocked our socks off. You can watch it here. It was surprised at how nice it was to see black men and a black woman preaching from the pulpit of the tabernacle and was really moved by a black stake president from NJ, I think, who spoke about how his patriarchal blessing said he'd preach the gospel to "his people" so he assumed he'd go to an inner city. Instead, he went to Latin America and realized Latinos were and are "his people" and that we're all each other's people. I've been thinking about that all week. Watch it now. Don't say "don't tell me what to do." Just watch it already. In an uncharacteristic act of bravery, I actually attended an RS activity (and didn't hate it! Progress! Turns out book clubs are a little more up my alley than recipe swaps) during which we discussed To Kill A Mockingbird and how prevalent racism is, even/especially in our vanilla community. And how it's bigger than race, it's just fear of people who are different than we are, in looks or economic circumstances or just life, and how in 4 Nephi, the people were happiest and most peaceful when distinctions disappeared and they had all things in common and there were no manner of -ites. So I have realized that my fear of stroller moms is discrimination and just because we're different (though not all that different anymore, now that I'm a crockpotter and serious crafter) doesn't mean we can't be friends. So if you're a crafty stroller mom, will you be my friend? Actually, just in general, will you be my friend? The end.