Wednesday, May 6, 2009

Naked Hang Gliding and Other Dumb Ideas


I have a nasty habit of agreeing way in advance to doing things that I have no interest whatsoever in doing.  Like right now, if you said to me, "Hey, in four months a bunch of us are going to hang glide naked into shark-infested waters with chum shoved into every orifice of our body and it will only set you back $2000 -- are you in?"  I'd totally be like, "Oh my God! I've always wanted to hang glide naked into shark-infested waters with chum shoved into every orifice of my body! I would have gladly paid THREE thousand dollars! Of course I am SO IN!"  Usually on these occasions, at the time I agree to a certain activity, I genuinely think it's a good idea. And, hey, even if it's not IT'S MONTHS AWAY.  I could have moved, be maimed, be in the witness protection program by then.

I once jumped off a moving bus that was headed to a Dave Matthews concert.  Granted, the bus was moving slowly. The concert was something I agreed to months before and it suddenly occurred to me as we were about to get on the highway and there was no turning back: "I HATE Dave Matthews. I don't CARE I paid $100 for the ticket.  I'd rather submerge my head into a vat of boiling vomit than listen to Dave Matthews." So I jumped.  (Perhaps we'll save the reaction of my then-boyfriend who I was accompanying for another post, shall we?)

So months ago I agreed to teach a classroom full of adults about how to get into public relations. I'm still trying to figure out how to GET OUT of public relations, so why anyone would want to listen to me on this topic is particularly perplexing.  I figured out (after signing the contract of course) that by the time I'm done designing the lecture, doing the handouts and actually teaching the course, the pay works out to be about $1.33 per hour.  I'm not up on labor law but I'm guessing the minimum wage is higher than that. 

And it's not even something I can cancel. So barring someone in my immediate family dying I'm stuck.  (Hey, immediate family members who read this -- anyone willing to die, or maybe just go into a really deep coma so I can get out of this? Anyone? Bueller?) 

PS -- Read my Dancing With the Stars update here.  Viewer warning: For mature audiences only.  Adult language, graphic lyrics and a whole paragraph on Lisa Rinna. 


4 comments:

  1. I'm guilty of the same. I joined a committee at work (they get Panera catered lunch once a month and its actually not painfully boring) and they are always trying to get people to form sub-committees. I haven't volunteered for one...yet....but I resist the urge to open my mouth by taking the entire second half of the meeting eating a delicious, oversized Panera cookie.

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  2. Public Relations is like the Hotel California, but what else can you do with a journalism degree these days?

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  3. You REALLY need to check out this job opportunity. They want social media commentary with a sense of humor. http://www.slate.com/id/2217686

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  4. I'm also terrible about agreeing to do things. Mostly it's that my mom or sister will suggest something (like "why don't you bring all the kids to Grandma's house this weekend, when it's almost certain to be a blizzard?") and I immediately agree because I don't know what else to say. Only later do I realize what I've agreed to.

    Good luck with the class; if you only do a half-assed job, maybe you can bring up the per-hour wage a little!

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