Invited to publicly air your dirty laundry? Better pull up your big girl panties and… RUN!
So the good news is someone wanted to interview me on the radio!
Sure, it was an AM talk radio program . . . in Canada; and yes, it was about my public confession that I overshare on the Internet, but still . . . all press is good press, right?
Which brings me to the bad news: being negatively labeled as an oversharer is not really what I dreamed my 15 minutes of fame would be about.
Yes, I have publicly written about things like feminine hygiene, being a recovering wino, my lopsided breasts, and that time I unsuccessfully pet a snapping turtle; but always with a higher purpose: to entertain, connect, or ease someone’s burden.
So I agreed to be interviewed; maybe I could make a case for the positive effects of social media and blogging. Besides, I figured it would be great media practice and if I totally sucked, at least I would suck in a foreign country.
Upon researching the program, I discovered that the man who wanted to interview me was known as the “Canadian Rush Limbaugh . . . with a heart.”
Uh, check please.
I was just about to cancel, when the producer contacted me and said the host was no longer interested, ” . . . he doesn’t feel this topic really gels with him.”
My gut reaction: Hey, wait a minute! You can’t fire me! I quit!
But secretly, I was totally relieved. The idea of a conservative talk radio personality publicly eviscerating me just didn’t sound like my idea of a good time. And believe me, I’ve been to Walmart in my pajama jeans on the eve of April 15th to buy a copy of Turbo Tax—I know a good time when I see it.
“However, there’s another program that might be a better fit for your story,” the producer continued. The hosts, Ric and Suzanne, are less about politics and more about social issues and pop culture. “They’ll love the whole ‘I help people’ angle!” she said. I listened to a few of their podcasts and quickly decided they would be much more fun than the Canadian Rush Limbaugh. Yay! Game back on!
The next day I sat by my phone and waited for their call, and with each passing moment, the more nervous I became.
“Just be yourself,” said the angel on my right shoulder.
“Oh God no! Don’t tell her that! She’ll say VAGINA!” retorted the little devil on my left.
“You can do this. People think you’re funny. Just don’t swear,” my angel cheered.
“She’s a writer and an editor! Not a performer. Do I have time to pop some popcorn?”
This is a mistake, I sighed.
“No it’s not! You have to start doing more media. It’s your job.”
“Ten bucks she says ‘nipple’ and forgets to mention the book.”
Both of you shut the fuck up. I can do this.
Two minutes to go. I’ll just look at their Facebook page . . .
“Do you cringe when you read another post oversharing details from peoples’ private lives? Well, we’ve got a woman who shamelessly shares all. Leslie Marinelli is an author and self-described “recalcitrant wife and mother”—and after 1:30, she’s going to tell Ric, Suzanne and you why she needs to overshare.”
OH CRAP. It’s an ambush! RUN RUN RUN! GET OUT OF THE HOUSE!
“Uh . . . hello?”
To hear what happened next, click here . . .