Doctors, Lawyers and Time Management, OH MY

Doctors and Lawyers have a lot in common. For example, to become a doctor or lawyer, you must endure tedious and sadistically grueling schooling as well as pass equally sadistic exams. Doctors and lawyers are both professionals who can be commit malpractice if they let their skills falter. And, let's face it, you don't consult doctors or lawyers when you're having your best day ever.

There's one thing doctors and lawyers really don't share. Time Management.

Allow me to elaborate. Yesterday morning I popped down to my doctor's office before work to get some paperwork done. I wisely chose the 8am appointment, thinking I would be out by 8:30, and into the city happily working away at my desk by 9.

I was wrong. I was so so wrong. I arrived on time for my appointment and was taken back right away. But my doctor? She didn't bother to put down her doughnut and latte and come sign my form until 8:45. 8:45!!!! Then she wanted to chitchat to makeup for her tardiness, not getting me out of her office and back in my car until 9:05.

I spent that time waiting in her exam room just pacing, stomach burning thinking about all I could be doing with this wasted time. You see, lawyers ( or at least, those who bill clients) have to account for their time to properly bill clients (and accordingly, to make money). And we usually do this in increments of 6 minutes. 12 minutes? That's .2 of my precious day.

Doctors aren't under a similar obligation to account for their time to make money. Heck, my doctor gets her money before she's even seen me! So maybe this is why we all end up spending hours in waiting rooms reading last year's Good Housekeeping. Sure, we don't want them rushing through someone's exam but I'm pretty sure the exams later in the day got time crunched because mine ran so late, for no apparent reason.

Should doctors bill like lawyers? God no, who only knows what would happen then. But should they effectively manage their day and schedule appointments so as not to waste my time? Ooooh I think we're onto something.

When it's all said and done, I love my doctor. She's totes adorbs and maybe it's the daily 5 hour energy coursing through my veins that makes me so impatient.

Things I Don't Understand: Prescription Drug Commercials

Something I've always wondered is where does a person have to be in his or her acting career to agree to do a prescription drug commercial?  I get that it's nationwide exposure and that's great for the actor, but for some, it's nationwide exposure for pretending to have erectile dysfunction. 

This question really started plaguing me when I saw a commercial for some prescription acne commercial.  It's a bunch of teenagers who have zits doodled all over their face.  How do you ever live that down?  "Yeah I'm an actor."  "Have I seen you in anything?"  "Yeah, a commercial for a raging case of acne."  Not exactly future oscar winners. 

Depression commercials?  I feel like all their friends hid the sharp objects in the house as soon as they saw them in the depression commercials where everything is gray and it's always raining outside. 

Even worse are the ones for lady part or man part issues.  For women, they all have to look smug and content to be struggling with a case of herpes or PMS.  For guys, apparently once their ED is taken care of, they regain the ability to go fishing and then take their wives out dancing.  Because ED prevents all that. 

What takes the cake for me recently though are then ones for what's known as "stool softeners."  Dear actor:  you're in a commercial about poo.  Congratulations, you've arrived! 

Seriously, I just don't get it. 

Motherhood's Get Out of Jail Free Card

For all of us non-mothers out there, I'm about to let you in on a huge secret that our friends who have entered motherhood have been keeping from us. Apparently, when you have a child, you get a special pass. And this pass exempts you from observing any basic social decency whatsoever.

Ok so maybe you don't ACTUALLY get a pass, but this is the only explanation I can surmise for what I saw the other day.

On Sunday of Memorial Day weekend, I attended the 9:00 am mass with my parents and husband. Given that this Mass is on a military post, it tends to cater to the older crowd. There's just not many children in this group.

Over to my right was a small family. Mom, Dad, two little girls an presumably one aunt. The youngest little girl, who looked to be about 3 months old or so, was impressively quiet in church. I thought, wow, this mother is teaching her children at a young age to behave in the Mass.

So imagine my shock and horror when I looked over midway through the homily to see the mother BREASTFEEDING her baby right there. In the pew. Surrounded by retired military personnel. She was using a shawl to cover herself, but really now. I'm pretty sure someone had to see more than they bargained for.

Look, I understand that she needs to feed her child. But would it really have been all that difficult to get up and quietly excuse herself to one of the more private areas in the chapel? There's plenty of rooms- she could take her pick!

There was a time when Catholic women were so concerned with modesty that they wore veils to Mass. Look, I'm not saying cover every inch of skin but maybe we can agree that pulling out your lady bosom to feed crosses a line. And really, this is a matter of simple decency. Get up, excuse yourself and walk twenty feet to the private room where you and your child can bond without being surrounded by dozens of people.

Sh*t We Didn't Care About This Week

Hey Sugars!  Are you looking forward to the long weekend as much as we are?  Let's hit the gossip so we can hit the pool!

The Queen's Underwear For Sale on Ebay
JanJan: I'm going to throw a pair of my panties up on Ebay and market them as Duchess Kate panties.  Moneymaking scheme.

Kiki: Isn't rule #1 of buying secondhand clothes that you never buy used underwear?  Unless it's Elvis.  I'd take all the money out of my IRA for a pair of those.

Facebook IPO Fail
Kiki: OMG people lie to make more money in the stock market!?  UNPOSSIBLE!!! 

JanJan: Because purchasing stock in a company whose success rests entirely in the hands of a man with no moral scruples is always a good idea. I saw the Social Network. I know things.

Reagan's Dried Blood Residue For Sale
JanJan: WHERE IS MY CREDIT CARD?

Kiki: OK, this vampire thing has officially gone too far.

Baby Put in Washing Machine During A Game of Peek-a-Boo
Kiki:  Maybe the kid sassed the babysitter and this is New Jersey's version of washing a mouth out with soap? 

JanJan: I can see the lawyers salivating now over who gets o draft Maytag's 'peekaboo' warning label that must now be adhered to every washer.

American Idol Finale
JanJan: People still watch that show?

Kiki: While I'm forever grateful to American Idol for Kelly Clarkson, I couldn't name the last five winners and any hits they've had.  Let's just all move on, shall we?

Jilted Fiancé Suing Ex Who Cancelled Wedding
Kiki: You stay classy.

JanJan: Nothing says 'I'm over you,' like a lawsuit.

HAPPY MEMORIAL DAY WEEKEND SUGARS!!!!  

Reply All Intervention

Ok sugars, I'm going to lay down a very simple rule for everyone.  Unless you know 90% of the names on a group email, message or text message, do NOT hit reply all!!  When I hear the tone of a new message on my phone, I'm like Pavlov's dog: I get really excited, my tail starts wagging, maybe I pant a little but when it's from a stranger, ngl, I get really upset and then annoyed. 

Recently a friend sent a message over Facebook about a party that is coming up and included a link to the evite with details about the party.  All of a sudden, I had messages from about 15 different people I don't know popping up on my phone from Facebook telling me all about what their plans are for the day of the party.  News flash: I don't care about you person I've never met!  Send a direct message, or better yet, reply to the gdamned Evite! 

I get even more annoyed about the group text message.  iPhones now have this group text message ability where if you send one text to a group, the replies go to the entire group.  I get a little freaked out when I get texts from numbers I don't know.  I'm immediately suspicious: WHO IS THIS AND HOW DID YOU GET THIS NUMBER.  Then I see, it's the group text message.  Enough.  If you don't know the other numbers, respond privately. 

Senders, you're just as guilty.  Use bcc, send emails in groups where people know the other people, send individual texts, god forbid pick up the phone, but do whatever you can to stop strangers from bothering me! 

Don't get me wrong, I love me some reply alls when I know everyone on the email chain and they're being funny.  But I hold fast to the lesson I learned from Kindergarten Cop: Don't Ever Talk to Strangers (...and stop whining...and don't eat other kid's lunches).  Let's do better with the reply alls, shall we?

We Have GOT to Stop Calling Each Other Sluts and Whores!

If you're like me, the movie Mean Girls represents a lot to you. Not only is it about the last thing Lindsey Lohan did before going off the deep end, but it also just about accurately depicted growing up and going to high school ( except not really so much my high school, as I went to an all-girls Catholic school, so minus the boys and weird clothes). Anyway, the personalities depicted were pretty spot on. And quite frankly, there's a little bit of Regina George in every one of us. I don't care who you are.

Towards the end of the movie, Tina Fey's character has the attention of all the girls in the junior class. They've been called into the auditorium to discuss the burn book. And Fey implores the girls that they have to stop calling each other sluts and whores.

Sure, there's some merit to teaching girls not to call each other sluts and whores. It's rude, insensitive and, at least according to Lifetime Movie Network, will result in countless deaths.

But there's another, dare I say more compelling, reason not to call each other sluts and whores. My friends, this reason is Slander Per Se.

Under the legal doctrine of Slander Per Se, injury to the person's reputation is presumed, without proof of damages, if whatever was said falls into one of four categories. One of those categories, sugars, is the unchasteness of a woman. Another category is loathsome disease.

Yes, it is automatically slander to call a woman a slut (notably, this is not the same for men). It's also automatically slander to say your bestie has chlamydia. You could double it up and say your bestie has chlamydia because she's a whore.

So why shouldn't you call your girlfriends sluts and whores? Well, because they'll sue you. And they'll win.

But certainly no one would sue for that you say. Oh but they would. This is America. And in America, when we're offended, we sue.

Are You As Mature as a Three Year Old?

I'm in my late twenties, I'm 3/4 of the way through law school, I've lived abroad several times, and I've survived some pretty crazy health stuff.  You would think that would make me a mature person.  It didn't. 

I have the same level of maturity as my three year old niece.  She's a very smart, but very typical toddler--she makes a lot of observations with no filter.  Unfortunately, so does her Auntie KK.  So here is what our conversations go like: Niece: You have crazy hair. Me: Well your hair is crazier.  Niece:  You're a bad singer.  Me: YOU'RE A BAD SINGER.  Niece: I don't get to wear dresses, I was in bed and out of bed and in bed and out of bed.  Me: Well I GET to wear a dress because I'm a good girl.  Niece: I put my puzzle together!  Me: I bet I can do it faster than you. 

Like seriously?! Why am I in competition with a toddler?  What is the matter with me?! 

This immature instinct isn't only applicable to my niece.  It's to all kids.  When I see kids running around the Smithsonians, my first instinct isn't go to approach their chaperone and ask them to control their kids.  No my first instinct is to trip them.  I get overly excited when it's the Jeopardy Teen Tournament because I get to be the world's biggest bully to my TV and shout like Adam Sandler in Billy Madison "WRONG!!!" when the kids answer the easy questions wrong.  A little girl was sitting on a plane alone next to me when I was flying home from a trip to Memphis.  She was having trouble opening her peanuts and so I offered to help.  I handed the opened bag back to her and she says, "Thank you.  I got the first one open."  I was mature enough to say, "Those bags are hard to open," but my inner monologue went, "WELL YOU COULDN'T OPEN THIS BAG." 

Seriously, it's pretty bad.  I hope as I get older that more and more of my smart-ass-ness becomes inner monologue otherwise my kids are going to be little a-holes.