Sway's Weekend Music Pick: "Down By The Water" by The Drums

New Terminology To Impress Your Magazine Industry Friends With

The past few weeks have been a blur of holiday gift guides and New Year's resolutions compilations.

Around this time every year, the whole magazine industry compresses. Publications that put out 12 issues a year have to do all the work they normally complete in four weeks in just three, and they have to do it two months back to back, in November and December. The December issue has to be on newsstands -- or at least off to the presses -- before Thanksgiving break, and the December issue has to be done before the holidays hit. I'll let you in on a secret: the technical term for this time of year is known in the industry as a "$#!^storm."

Needless to say, stress levels run high and sometimes it all gets to be a little too much. Maybe this explains why I've had a particularly rough month with a few of my clients. But then, I would argue that maybe you haven't really become a full-fledged, full-time freelancer until someone screams at you in all caps over e-mail for something that is ultimately determined to have not been your fault in the first place. Good times.

And admittedly, I have been no peach these past several days, either. I haven't screamed at anyone in all capital letters via e-mail ... My breakdowns have been more of the tearful, blubbering, sleep-deprived sort. On the up side, this has been my most (financially) successful freelance month since I began halfway through May. On the down side, it's taught me that working around the clock and being tethered to my iPhone during every daily activity is really no way to live. I think I've finally discovered that magical "threshold" I was looking for, the one where I have enough clients/projects on my plate and it's time to stop trying to acquire more unless I want to run myself into the ground.

I'm strongly considering trading in my credit card reward points for a "no one ask anything of me" kind of vacation over next summer. And if my boyfriend forgives me for blubbering at the most random things this past month, maybe he can even come, too. I'm thinking an island. Where there's no Wi-Fi signal and no cell phone reception. But not this island. That wouldn't help anything.

In the meantime, I think I need to finally stop saying "yes" to everything and learn when to say "no."

No.

See, there, I just did it.

No.

This will be easier than I thought.

Cissie

Last weekend was fashion week here. Technically, it's only three days long, rather than a legitimate week, but they pack a lot into those three days.

One of the PR companies I work with a lot in town actually reps Ted Baker London locally and one of the PR girls contacted me to ask if I wanted to wear something from the TBL winter collection to fashion week Saturday night. Umm ... yeah!

So I got to go to the store the day before and try on a number of really fun, really cute dresses, but in the end, I chose this one:

It's called "Cissie." I loved that it was bright red (my favorite color), and that it was kind of corseted and even had pockets. I paired it with some black patent pumps from Target and some sparkly jewelry, and I was good to go. The shows I got to see that night included Neiman Marcus, Tory Burch, Ted Baker London (of course) and Betsey Johnson. It was fun, and my boyfriend didn't even mind (too much) being dragged along and having to wear a suit.

And I would have had some video from the runway shows to post, but the mini video cam I ordered got delayed and wasn't delivered until two days later, on Monday. Ah well. Best laid plans, right? Hopefully I'll get video at something other interesting event so I can try out the cam.

Sway's Weekend Music Pick: "Chasing Pirates" by Norah Jones

DIY: Dry Erase Calendar

A week or two ago, I was writing some upcoming due dates and events in my planner and I found myself really wishing I could roll the whole thing out, unfold it and stretch it so that I could see everything I have coming up all at once.

I presented this wish to my boyfriend. Casually. While he was playing video games.

"They have those, you know," he said whilst blasting a zombie to smithereens. "Those big calendars you can put on the wall and write on and tear off the sheets one month at a time."

"Yes," I said, "but that seems so wasteful. What I really want is a dry erase board with a calendar on it."

"They make those, too."

"Yes," I said, "but there's a major problem with all of them. They're ugly."

I mean, aren't they? They all have cheap wood or plastic or metal framing them and just look so sterile and middle school math class-ish. No, if I was going to have a dry erase calendar that made me walk into my office each morning just burning to get started marking all over it, I was going to have to make one myself.

And so that's just what I did.

I used this tutorial here. And I used some of the leftover fabric I had from the DIY jewelry board project here. And I went to Michael's and bought a nice frame that was 50% off. (Is it just me, or are all the frames at Michael's always 50% off? What is going on over there?)

Do ya wanna see the end result? Do ya?

Ta-da!

The low quality of the photo is intentional. I can't have anyone unearthing the details of my deep dark secretive plan for freelance writers to take over the world someday, otherwise what would be the point of all my plotting? That's what we writers do, you know -- we plot. Ah ha. Ah ha. Ahem. Sorry ...

Anyway, I'm pretty happy with the finished product. I've organized it so that it's revolving, too, meaning as soon as a week passes, I erase that week and incorporate it into the calendar for next month. For example, in this photo, October is only represented by the last row and back up at the top begins November. Even though, yes, it says October at the very top. Look, I have my own system, all right? Lay off.

Total cost for the project, since I already had the fabric, permanent markers and dry erase markers, ended up being for only the frame. And since I knew I already had all the other supplies, I splurged a little -- maybe $20-$25 (on sale!). I'm sure you could find a great one for much cheaper, though. Or perhaps you even already have one lying around? One that's not holding a photo? One that you're getting really tired of moving from closet to closet in your house?

If you make your own, let me know how it goes! (And wear GLOVES. Glass cuts. And it hurts.)

The Miraculous Turkey

I have a few photos from one of my recent writing assignment photo shoots concerning the perils of deep-frying a turkey. (Don't do it! It's not worth it!)

My editor and I, plus a photographer, headed to the fire department's training facility so that the training captain could help us blow up a turkey. Well, we arranged it all ahead of time, of course. I don't know that you can knock on the fire department's front door and just ask that sort of thing.

Anyway, here are a few photos.

Meet our bird. This is the poor sucker all wrapped up pre-deep-frying incident. Notice the weight. It says 18 pounds. 18!!! Turns out my editor had a really difficult time finding a turkey around town in the firs place. (Maybe all the grocery stores are getting ready for Thanksgiving by clearing out all the "old" turkeys? Who knows.) So this was the only turkey he could find. Therefore, this was the smallest turkey he could find. Personally, I felt a little guilty. There are people who struggle to put food on their tables all the time, and here we were, about to drop an 18-pound fowl into a vat of hot peanut oil just for the photo opp. Sad face. At least the magazine will be distributing food to people for the holiday. That makes me feel a little better.

And this is the poor dear all unwrapped and exposed. Oh, also -- frozen. Because that's one of the big mistakes people make when they try to deep-fry a turkey. Please, for the love of all known safety precautions, THAW the bird COMPLETELY beforehand. Or just don't deep-fry your turkey, that would be better.

This is the fire captain about to hack into the turkey with the sledgehammer he's holding in his right hand. It had to be done in order to wedge some metal into the bird in order to suspend the thing from a rope in order to hang it over a rafter in order to safely lower the thing into the pot in which it would eventually be cooked.

This is the turkey being dropped into the pot. I didn't get the big splash of hot oil (400 degrees, I think it was), but here you can see that some of the oil spilled over the edge of the pot and is burning over the heat source underneath. Pay no attention to my editor's elbow. He was trying to take photos with a digital SLR. I only had my iPhone on-hand. This also explains the poor quality of my photo.

After about 30 seconds, the fire captain raised the turkey from the pot. Notice how it already looks all golden and delicious. This is him inspecting the turkey and the equipment to make sure everything's OK for us to dunk the turkey one more time. And so it continued, more of the dunking and hot oil flying everywhere and the bird sizzling.

If you plan on deep-frying a turkey (you're crazy!), it's imperative you follow the safety precautions found here. Do NOT use an 18-pound turkey (use 12 pounds or less). Do NOT use a frozen turkey. Do NOT fill the pot almost to the top with oil (like we did here to get a splash). DO have a fire extinguisher present. Or, you know, a fire captain. Who has a fire extinguisher with him. Did I mention you should follow the safety precautions found here?

All (poor-quality) photos by Sway Sovay

Sway's Weekend Music Pick: "With Rainy Eyes" by Emancipator

I'm kind of obsessed with Emancipator's stuff right now. It's perfectly chill and good to work or study by. Great for autumn somehow, too. You can hear more at emancipatormusic.com.

Cuddle With Me

This week has been sickly. Wait, no, I meant me. I've been sickly. Not actually sick, mind you, just feeling sick. Sick of being awake.

It started with Monday. I spent probably 10 hours that day working on a feature article for a client who wanted to submit something to the ever glamorous publication Soft Drinks International. I spent most of the weekend and Monday thinking and reading way more about plastic than I've ever wanted to, let's just say that. I filed the article with my client at 1:30 a.m. and went to bed.

Now, I don't know how old you are, whoever you are, but I am 26, and according to my genetic aging process, have long passed the age during which I can still pull an all-nighter -- even a quarter-of-a-nighter -- and still manage to fully function. No, I'm already an old geezer when it comes to staying up past my bedtime (9:30 p.m.) and I was thus 100% USELESS the next day. Although, in my defense, it's not like I got to sleep in or anything. I still woke up at 5:30 a.m. to be sure I was "in the office" at the usual time (7 a.m. Phoenix time) for my East Coast clients, plus I knew I was going to need to make myself available in the event the plastics article needed revisions.

Worked until roughly noon, until my workload came to a reasonable stopping point, then I set an alarm on my phone and shut my eyes on the couch for just a few minutes ...

One hour later, I woke up and got right back to work, but I swear, being that tired and trying to form cohesive sentences and type with accuracy is pretty darn near impossible. You end up typing things like "... but the real issue with PLA plastics isn't their durability, it's that their kittens are so cuddle with me ..." I know you know this to be true.

The next thing I knew, my boyfriend was arriving home from work already. I thought, "Good. I can stop working. We'll eat dinner. We'll watch a sitcom. We'll go to bed. And I'll get my usual eight hours of sleep and feel a whole lot better in the morning.

No.

"Well," my boyfriend said, "I have to go in to work early tomorrow morning, so we'd better just eat and then go to bed."
"What? How? How early?" I managed to stammer.
"I have to be there at 5," he said. "I'll set our alarm for 3:30."
Nooooooooooooo.

By the time all was said and done, what with defrosting the chicken and boiling the pasta and grilling said chicken to perfection and then eating said chicken with creamy alfredo sauce (Seriously, it was either that or just yogurt and beer. Note to self: buy frozen pizzas and/or TV dinners during next grocery trip), we didn't make it to bed any earlier than usual. In fact, we actually made it to bed later, so I only ended getting about six or six and a half hours of sleep. Funny how after you've had the same schedule for years those one or two hours can make such a huge difference right?

As a result, on Wednesday I was "in the office" by 5 a.m. I worked until 12:15 p.m., at which point I had to drive to Downtown Scottsdale, more specifically, to the fire department, to meet my editor and a photographer there for a story I've been assigned. Long story short, even though we had an appointment, there was a gross mis-communication prior to our arrival, and the trip turned out to be a bust. So I drove home, worked, then my boyfriend came home from work early since he'd started early, he played some Modern Warfare and then went to water polo practice. (Yes, a couple months ago it was rowing, now it's water polo -- I know, I can't keep up either.) I kept working.

Boyfriend came home at 10:00 from practice, there was some semblance of a dinner, then there was sleep. But not much, because going to bed at 11:00 and getting up at 5:30 means you're going to spend at least the first 30 minutes just thinking about the fact that you're going to bed at 11 and getting up at 5:30. It's the sick law of dreading what's coming.

So today -- exhausted. Today -- still behind on work for the week. Today -- had to interview a rambler over the phone. Today -- forgot to eat lunch. Today -- exhausted.

Today ... Tonight ... have to somehow clean up the house, because the in-laws arrive tomorrow morning.

Yes, that's right, in a fantastic twist of fate known as The Worst Timing Ever, they will be arriving from Oklahoma in the morning and I will somehow have to make sure they have decent living quarters and a refrigerator stocked with something more than just yogurt and beer.

Don't worry, I've pulled it off before.

And then after they leave on Sunday, so help me, I am going to sleep. For days.

Don't Forget To Park Your Cow

Los Angeles to New York City

This cool time-lapse video is kind of mesmerizing, and it definitely makes me want to go on a roadtrip. Bad.

Sway's Weekend Music Pick: "All I Want" by Kate Earl

The View from Montserrat Mountain, Spain

"Earth is crammed with heaven." - Elizabeth Barrett Browning

Photo by Sway Sovay

Sway's 2010 NYC Scavenger Hunt

The List
(in no particular order ...)

-Have my photo taken in front of Tiffany & Co. on Fifth Avenue. Done. (10/1/10)
-Eat at the original fill-in-the-blank, i.e., at some well-known restaurant's very first location. Done. The Shake Shack in Madison Square Park. (9/30/10)
-Stroll through Central Park. Done. (10/2/10)
-See a Broadway show. Done. "Mamma Mia!" at the Winter Garden Theatre. I will have ABBA songs stuck in my head for a month. That's not necessarily a bad thing. (10/2/10)
-Ride in a taxi that I flagged down myself. Done. (9/30/10)
-Find the Cash Cab (OK, maybe this one is unlikely.)
-See New York from the top of the Empire State Building.
-Stumble upon a television or movie production being filmed. Done. "Gossip Girl" at 9th Street and A Avenue in the East Village. (10/1/10)
-Visit 30 Rockefeller Plaza. Done. Toured NBC Studios; got to see where they tape SNL (they were rehearsing while we were there), where Brian Williams tapes The Nightly News, and where Dr. Oz' show is filmed. (10/2/10)
-Step inside Grand Central Station. Done. (10/1/10)
-Take the ferry to Liberty Island to see the Statue of Liberty up close. Done. (10/2/10)
-Take the ferry to Ellis Island. Done. (10/2/10)
-Walk down Wall Street and see the Charging Bull statue.
-Visit Century 21.
-Eat in Chinatown.
-Visit Times Square at night. Done. (10/2/10)

Things I've Done or Seen in NYC that Maybe I Hadn't Planned On

-See a huge rat scurry along the waterfront Unfortunately. (9/29/10)
-Eat at The Life Cafe, which was immortalized in the musical "RENT," in the East Village. Done. (10/1/10)
-Visit the underground Apple store across from The Plaza Hotel. Done. (10/1/10)
-See The Plaza Hotel. Done. (10/1/10)
-See The New York Palace Hotel. Done. (10/1/10)
-See St. Patrick's Cathedral. Done. (10/1/10)
-See the World Trade Center/Ground Zero site. Done. (9/29/10)
-Take a hair-raising taxi ride through New York City. Done. (9/29/10-10/3/10)

All in all, not bad for a fast and furious four-night stay in NYC. There are a few things I didn't get to do that I regret, particularly going to the top of the Empire State Building. I bought express tickets for that before I even left so that my dad and I wouldn't have to wait in line for a long time, but in the end, we just didn't have time to do it all, and that was one thing that fell by the wayside. The good news, though, is that the tickets are valid for two years after you buy them, so I'll just have to be content with the fact that the Empire State Building and I have a date for the future.

But That's Why I Bring The Tape Recorder

I'm heading to New York on Wednesday around lunchtime. At the same time, my boyfriend is getting on a different plane and heading to Chicago. I'm sure our stacks of books and papers here at home will miss us.

The good news is I'm not stressed out about all the work that will or won't be done while I'm gone. I'll be checking in on things and working on assignments here and there, but I think I've managed to get a pretty good headstart on the week. Which is awesome. The ability to schedule posts for future dates and times was a superb invention.

The bad news is, today a PR rep called me to say she'd seen my published interview with one of her clients and that the client is upset that they were misquoted. Honestly, this has never happened to me before, so I was understandably upset myself, too. But I always, always, always record all my interviews, whether they're over the phone or in person -- and this is precisely the reason why. The whole thing is still in limbo, because the client hasn't yet passed on the corrections. Very frustrating. But at least the article is published online and not in print, so as soon as the client is able to tell me what was in error, there is the possibility of fixing it and everyone going back to living with a peace of mind.

But I'm still looking forward to New York, full speed ahead. Any recommendations for places to eat and shop, that sort of thing, do let me know.

Let Me Tell You About My Wednesday Night/Morning

Let me just preface this by saying that my boyfriend and I do not live in filth. We have a nice home and are both very tidy, albeit somewhat disorganized in busier weeks. But then again, who isn't? At any rate ...

You know how sometimes when you're asleep, there are things that can be going on around you that your mind subconsciously incorporates into your dreams? (If you're a light sleeper, that is.) For example, maybe you awake to discover that your high school gym teacher's shouting was not, in fact, morphing into a screeching bird voice, but rather, your alarm clock was going off.

I experienced a variation on that phenomenon Wednesday night/early morning. It all began when I felt something skittle across my hand under the covers. "That's weird," my dream self thought. "But totally not anything worth panicking over."

And then the something skurried up the back of my tank top (I was lying on my side), bringing me a little closer to being awake. Now my dream self was fading as the real me swished at my back with one hand.

And then the something scuttled across my stomach, which is precisely the moment my dream self drop-kicked me into being awake. I shot straight up in the air and somehow ended in a crouch position on top of my pillow in about half a second. My boyfriend, roused from a dead sleep, immediately sat straight up and just kept saying "Whoa! Whoa! Whoa!" in an attempt to get me to stop flailing my arms and beating the sheets in front of me like a woman possessed.

Now, I don't wear my contacts when I sleep, and that night I had forgotten to place my glasses on my nightstand, so I couldn't see a darn thing. But I would swear in a court of law that upon first rising up into my "Crouching Tiger, Hidden Dragon" attack mode pose, I am very certain I saw something black about the side of a quarter at the edge of the fitted sheet right before one of my flailing arms swept that little #$%^&*@#*$&# right off the bed.

Of course, my boyfriend thought I was crazy. Because, as well all know, that is one of the areas that almost every boyfriend is capable of excelling in, the ability to believe his girlfriend is in a constant state of crazy.

"Ifeltsomethingscurryovermyhandandthenupthebackofmyshirtandthenovermystomach!" I warbled in terror.

"I know, I know," he said, patting my shoulder a little, trying to console me. He was already starting to lie back down at that point.

"No seriously! I don't have my glasses on, but I saw it! When I flipped the covers up, there was something black right there."

He sat back up in a hurry. "Really? Right where?" Oh sure, then he was interested.

But ultimately, he couldn't find anything, peering with his 20/20 vision over the comforter and the side of the bed, and so he told me to go back to bed.

Go back to bed? Are you kidding me? Having some sort of creepy-crawly scurry over her in her sleep is one of the top 10 scenarios on every woman's "Most Traumatizing Things That Could Ever Happen To Me In My Own Home" list. There is no way I was going to be able to go back to sleep. Or even get back under those sheets.

So as my boyfriend started to softly snore again, there I lie, cold and traumatized, wondering how many more hours until our alarm clocks would be going off and I could stop thinking about how I wasn't sleeping and why I wasn't sleeping.

About 40 minutes later, the alarm clock sounded and I, definitely not asleep, jumped up, flipped on the light and proceeded to check the floor before setting my feet down. After a few more minutes of surveying the room ...

"I found it," I said.

"Found what?" my boyfriend mumbled.

"What was scurrying around last night."

"You did? Where? What is it?"

"It's a cockroach," I said, disgusted, and pointed toward the carpet next to his nightstand.

Suffice to say there was an insect death that occurred in our home around 5:30 a.m. Arizona Mountain Time, and that the corpse was honored in a manner fitting with how the specimen chose to live its life: We flushed it.

Sheets have been washed, traps have been set, and my boyfriend has already had to endure my recount of the events involved in my near-death experience at least a dozen times.

But the really, truly tragic thing is that as the little body was swirling down into the underworld where all bad bugs (and even the good ones, too, I imagine) go, I found myself thinking: "There can't be cockroaches here! This is Scottsdale!"

I think this place is finally affecting me.

I Think The Sing-A-Ma-Jigs Are A Mistake - Get The Pillow Pets Instead

I don't have kids, but if you do, here's what you're faced with this holiday season.

My city's newspaper just published the top 15 holiday toys according to Toys R Us. You can read them all as they were posted originally by clicking here.

But they are as follows:

- Calico Critters Luxury Townhouse by International Playthings: A doll house for Calico Critters dolls available exclusively from Toys R Us. $79.99.
In case you're wondering what Calico Critters are, they're these things. And I have no idea why they would need a house.

- Cuponk by Hasbro Inc: A game that combines electronic cups and ping-pong-like balls. $14.99.
This is a game where you toss a ping pong ball into a cup. And no, it doesn't get more complicated than that.

- Disney Princess & Me dolls by Jakks Pacific. Five 18-inch dolls of princesses from Disney movies, available exclusively at Toys R Us. $49.99.
This just wouldn't be America if Disney figurines weren't somewhere on this list.

- Disney/Pixar's "Toy Story 3" Imaginext Tri-County Landfill by Mattel's Fisher-Price. A playset that recreates the landfill scene from "Toy Story 3." $49.99.
See previous commentary.

- Fast Lane Wild Fire RC by Toys R Us. A four-wheel remote control car over a foot tall. $89.99.
OK, that does sound kind of cool. Remote-controlled anything is usually fun. At least until you drive it into a wall. Or into the street ...

- Imaginext Bigfoot the Monster by Fisher-Price. A Bigfoot that moves around, stomps and throws tantrums. $109.99.
What? Oh that won't get annoying.

- Leapster Explorer by LeapFrog: Electronic handheld device that has a library of 40 games and activities and other features. $69.99.
Running total of educational toys on this list: 1.

- Loopz from Mattel: Electronic memory game in which users try to repeat patterns of light and music. $34.99.
Running total of educational toys on this list: 2.

- Minotaurus by Lego Systems Inc. A board game from Lego. $26.99.
Please. Everyone knows the Harry Potter anything game will outsell the Minotaurus.

- Monster High Cleo DeNile and Deuce Gorgon doll set by Mattel: Dolls from Mattel's Monster High line. $39.99.
The what and the what from the what?

- Nerf N-Strike Stampede ECS by Hasbro: Nerf blaster that can shoot Nerf darts up to 25 feet. $54.99.
Think of it as like you're paying $2 and change per foot for how far this thing can shoot. Or, you're buying something that you're probably going to have to end up taking away from your kid later anyway after the third or fourth time he specifically aims for your butt.

- Pillow Pets by Ontel Products Corp.: Plus stuffed animals that convert into a pillow by opening a Velcro strap. $19.99.
Awww.

- Sing-a-ma-jigs by Mattel: Plush creatures that harmonize and sing together or apart. $12.99.
The Toys R Us website says: "Every Sing-A-Ma-Jig has three modes of play. In chatter mode, the Sing-A-Ma-Jig speaks in a language full of jibbers and jabbers. In song mode, your little one can control the pace of the song to give each tune its own unique musical take. In harmonizing mode, each Sing-A-Ma-Jig sings in harmony with their other Sing-A-Ma-Jig friends (sold separately). The more Sing-A-Ma-Jigs your little one collects, the larger the chorus and the better the sound!" All I can say is, I hope that either the tune is super catchy, or that it's super easy to remove their batteries.

- Squinkies Cupcake Surprise Bake Shop by Blip Toys: A play set that doubles as a toy vending machine for 9 included Squinkies, tiny toy people and animals. $22.99
I'll be waiting for the Squinkies Healthy Snacktime Station by Blip Toys.

- Tomica Hypercity Mega Station Set by Tomy: A Toys R Us exclusive train set. $79.99.
Thumbs up. Train sets are always, always cool. (Just watch where you step.)

Sway's Weekend Music Pick: "The Background" by Third Eye Blind

A Very Important Post

Listen up. In writing this post, I set out with a very particular goal in mind, one of extreme significance in consideration of the potential outcome of my evening, the purpose of this post being to delay, for as long as I possibly can, work on my article about the situation in a certain African country, which is, ahem, due tomorrow.

Now, I am not against spreading the word about the atrocities that are currently taking place in certain regions in Africa, and I am certainly not against people wanting to correct these scenarios. I am just, for lack of a better word, tired.

After all, I did drive aaaaaaaaall the way into downtown Phoenix for an interview today. And if you've ever driven in rush hour traffic here, you know it's no picnic. Also, I wrote two web articles before that. Also, I'm going on 67 hours of work since last Friday. (And I will no doubt be burning the candle at both ends tonight. But let's not stop being in denial about that for a moment.)

See, I'm trying this new thing where I keep track of how many hours I work per day so that at the end of every week I'll know exactly why I feel so darn exhausted. So far it's mostly managed to depress me. Usually in the moments in which I consider the fact that in this wonderful industry payment often lags four to eight weeks. But sometimes it makes me feel great because ... no, just kidding, turns out I can't think of any reason why working that many hours in one week consistently is "great."

One of the things I was happy to leave behind when I left the full-time job at the magazine because my hours there were so INSANE. Well, it turns out, the hours I'm keeping working from home aren't a whole lot different ... which is less than pleasant ... however, I don't think it will stay like this for years, because I'll eventually work my way up to nabbing higher-paying clients and therefore be able to work fewer hours. Plus, I can drink wine while I work. Hello?! Bonus! (By the way, don't drink and write. Or do. Apparently it worked for the Ernest Hemingways of the world. Actually, that's a bad example. Nevermind. Moving on ...)

[Intermission while I check People.com.]

[45 minutes later ...]

OK, so I should probably go write that article now. I mean, I am supposed to be a professional ...

But first I'm taking a tour of the fridge. Maybe I still have some ice cream. C'mon, it's brain food!

"Krasivaya" Is Russian For "Beautiful"

I'm interviewing a Russian supermodel tomorrow.

What the heck do I wear for that?

Let the raiding of the closet commence in 3 ... 2 ... 1 ...

[Edit: I forgot to mention that it's 103 degrees here in Phoenix. Yay.]

Sway's Weekend Music Pick: "Sweet Disposition" by The Temper Trap

Barcelona, Lion at Monument a Colom

P

Photo by Sway Sovay

Nacho Figueras: A Caballo

To be filed under: "Things I at first found strange, but then, strangely beautiful."

How To Be Alone

Below is a great little video called "How To Be Alone" by filmmaker, Andrea Dorfman, and poet, singer and songwriter Tanya Davis.

Davis wrote the poem and performed in the video, which Dorfman directed, shot, animated by hand and edited. The video was shot in Halifax, Nova Scotia, and was produced by Bravo!FACT.

I think both men and women can appreciate the film's message, but the way it's delivered will likely resonate a little deeper with women. You'll see what I mean. Enjoy.

Perspective

 Two and a half years ago, I didn't have a clue about the magazine industry or publishing or what it took to write professionally.

Heck, even four and a half years ago, after having earned my bachelor's in professional writing, I didn't even have a grasp on what was involved.

And yet, here I am today, on the other side of a two-year-plus stint at a national magazine, now writing from home full-time. I'm running my own professional website, I have a for-business-only e-mail address, I have business cards, I've made an appointment with a photographer for a portrait to put on my cards and other various locations on the internet, and best of all, I have jobs and contacts.

The whole ordeal seems a bit insane to me to some degree, I'll admit. When I chose my major in college, I got the expected raised eyebrows from many (many) people, including my parents (especially my parents). "You want to major in professional writing? What does that mean?"

And I would explain in a usually -- not always, but usually -- patient manner that it meant I would most likely go on to work at a PR company, writing press releases, or I would be writing ad copy for a corporation or a marketing firm. And usually -- not always, but usually -- that would kind of put an end to people's questions.

To be honest, though, I'm not sure that I believed what I was saying each time I gave that explanation. It's not that I believed I'd be writing poetry chapbooks or penning novels, it's just that I really wasn't sure what a professional writing degree meant, either. All I knew was that writing for other people was something I was good at and something I enjoyed doing, and fortunately, I was able to convince my family and friends of the same.

Of course, now it's easy for me to see a third fold to that logic, which is the fact that my ability to write is, maybe luckily or unluckily, my only marketable skill. Really. And I'm not disappointed in that.

It makes a lot of sense now that I'm older. I am a kind of copier, in a sense; I can only work with things that have already been created or provided to me, but I can't just create stuff in the true sense of the word. And when I was a kid, this used to frustrate me to no end. But now that I'm an adult, I can finally see the pattern, and it's allowed me to play to my strengths, and also explained a lot about who I am and what I'm capable of.

See, there was a reason that I could only make beautiful copies from photos when I was in art class in high school. And there was a reason I couldn't just make up choreography on my own in tap class. And there was a reason I sucked at sports, too -- if a scenario didn't exactly fit one of our pre-game drills, I couldn't recognize what my reaction should be. And I was never really any good at geometry or calculus or science, either, because those subjects, too, take a special kind of creativity that I just don't have. (I did rock algebra pretty hard, though. I can find X with the best of them. Boo-yah.) And to this day, after knitting for years, I can't make up or adjust knitting patterns on the fly; if something doesn't have absolutely every single stitch written out, I can just forget it.

So maybe I can't do any of those other things very well, but what I can do is take a whoooooole lot of information and words, process it, and then spit it back out, so to speak -- re-organize it in a way that's interesting and that people can understand.

Even though everything about the way my brain is wired funneled me down the path of writing and editing, I never knew that it could lead to something as cool as this -- a career in which I get to work from home but still go to events, get to make my own schedule and decide when I take time off, and yet still earn a living while meeting new people and learning new things every day.

I've come a long way, baby. I'm proud of myself. I was a frustrated little kid (and later, a frustrated adult), who didn't understand why I couldn't just be good at all the things I wanted to be good at. But now I have a much broader view.
My point is ...

Maybe there's something you wish you were better at or had a knack for that you just always struggle with, and maybe it's time to recognize that that's OK. Maybe it's time to discover what the positive is to your negative, so to speak.

We're all bad at things, and we're all good at things. And sometimes looking at one can help us determine the other.

And I think that's pretty cool.

Sway's Weekend Music Pick: "All I Want" by Kate Earl

Barcelona, In Snapshots

At last, some long overdue photos from my trip to Barcelona.

A view of the city from the castle atop the hill of Montjuic:

Shopping corridor in the Gothic Quarter:

Busker and vendors along La Rambla:

Christopher Columbus Monument:

The "needle" in Olympic Park:

Sagrada Familia:

Sagrada Familia seen from Montjuic:

The Hotel Arts Barcelona (where I stayed) and the "fish" sculpture designed by Frank Gehry:

Antoni Gaudi's structures in Parc Guell:

Ancient Roman tombs:

Codorniu Winery (famous for its cava):

Montserrat Monastery:

Don't worry, there will be more. ;)

All photos by Sway Sovay

Barcelona, Section of the Roman Wall and Gothic Chapel of Santa Agata

One of the photos I took around Via Laietana in the inner city of Barcelona. There were so many more Roman ruins there than I was expecting.

Many more photos to come, but I just felt like posting this. I wish I were still there!

Photo by Sway Sovay

Sway's Weekend Music Pick: "July Flame" by Laura Veirs

This Has Been My Life On Pause

This has been the most insane week work-wise for me since I went rogue freelance. I think it's like some kind of unwritten rule that the more stuff you already have on your plate, the more people who suddenly come out of the woodwork needing things from you. Also, the more impossible the request, the more likely it is that they need it "right away."

A few publications have amped up the volume of copy editing work they're giving me this month, which is awwwwwwe-some, BUT ... "Barcelona" is due tomorrow (with PHOTOS, sweet lord ...), and I am praying the Muse helps me crank out the last few pages of this beast of an article before I rip all my hair out. Pray that the internet gods do not crash any of the sites I need to use as resources, nor do any lolcats jam the waves as they are being transmitted through the tubes. Pray that I can continue to subsist on whatever I can still find in my fridge and pantry, and that I one day eventually remember how to socialize, since I haven't been out of the house since last weekend.

So help me god, when this week is over I am going shopping to spend every last dime I have on clothes and shoes in order to restore fun and frivolity to my life!!!

Not really. That would kind of defeat the purpose. But I am going shopping. Maybe I'll even buy something not on sale this time -- you know, get all crazy-like.

Not All Of The Martinis Are Blue

Yup, I did it. (I'm referring to my last post of course.) And I feel fine. Fine and healthy. Didn't get any headaches, no feeling lightheaded, no suffering from exhaustion. It was a piece of cake. Er, glass of juice.

And now that I've come to the end of the last day, I just feel strong and refreshed and happy that I did something good for myself. Instead of downing food containing only some usable calories and the rest going to waste, for the past three days I fed my body nothing but usable calories, and I have to say, the difference in how it has made me feel is pretty impressive. I did lose some weight, too, just as a happy side effect -- and it burned off in all the right places, so I don't necessarily look "skinnier," just more toned up in all the spots that always gave me trouble. Overall, I give this experiment an A. I'm leaving off the plus sign because I have to admit that drinking that much juice got a little monotonous by the morning of Day 3. Except for the raw cashew chocolate milk! That recipe was delish ...

At any rate, I am going out tonight to a birthday get-together at Blue Martini for a few hours, even though I would much rather stay home (I'm boring like that) and get some work done. I fell behind today due to the fact that a friend of mine who is on vacation in California needed me to deliver a saddle. Yes, you read that right. She's a professional equestrian. I had to go claim said saddle and then take said saddle to her stable. (Try saying that five times fast.) Therefore I lost a little time in the ol' office, aka my living room.

I also went to the Phoenix Art Museum this morning for work, to see the Cezanne exhibition they currently have on display. It was really good, much larger than I had expected -- it took me about an hour to go through the whole thing, which I think is kind of a while for just one room of paintings.

So tonight: Blue Martini, come home, work, crash, wake up, work, clean house again, make grocery run, work, then go pick up my boyfriend from the airport and possibly go see my friend in the hospital who gave birth to twins yesterday. And then, yep, you guessed it -- work some more. Weeeeeeeeeee.

Pulp Friction

Announcement: Today I begin this, which I found here, and which was created by these people.

I've never done one before, but I've been curious for a while now regarding the positive health benefits some claim to experience. I'm not doing it to lose weight -- and, in fact, this one isn't even designed with that goal in mind -- but more to just restart my system. I've been exhausted for the past several months, and it seems as though whether I get 90 minutes or 9 hours or 19 hours (OK, maybe more like 12), I have very few days that begin with me feeling energized. Basically, I'm tired of just waking up every single day feeling, well, tired.

So, as I've been wondering whether or not this had something to do with eating too many processed foods, or just my overall diet, etc., when I came across this information a few months back, I was immediately curious. Now seems to be the perfect time to try it, too, since the boyfriend is away and I don't have to worry about feeding him plus spending the extra time it takes to juice all these drinks for myself.

[Which, by the way, is a huge pain in the you-know-what if you don't own one of those fancy shmancy $100-plus juicing machines. Which, by the way, I do not. AND, silly me, I believed that I could just as easily take care of all of this prep work with my little arsenal of blender, food processor and ghetto juicer - which, by the way, is basically just that sombrero-shaped thingy (I know you know what I'm talking about) atop a motor, so that you hold the fruit and the juicer-sombrero rotates automatically. Well, it turns out, I made a Mess, with a capital 'M,' preparing my juices for tomorrow. Seriously, I had green and red and blue pulp all over the counter in a matter of minutes. P.S. Can I even mention sombreros right now with all the hot water Arizona is in? Even Miss GooGoo thinks the whole ordeal is atrocious.]

If ordered through the BPC website, a beginner-level cleanse costs roughly $65 to $75 per day and consists of 18 individual drinks that are reportedly made with the purest, highest-quality ingredients known to mankind, whereas my version costs roughly $26 per day and consists of 18 individual drinks that will be made with the purest, highest-quality ingredients known to Super Wal-Mart. Maybe that defeats the purpose? I don't know, but we have to start with baby steps, don't we?

Actually, I'm looking forward to the next three days. What I'm not looking forward to are the days that come after. The first day post-juice you're supposed to eat just fruit, the next day you can add vegetables, the next day you can add plain brown rice or sweet potatoes, the next day you can add fish or another lean meat, and then finally, on the fifth day post-cleanse you can bring back denser foods.

I've never done anything this strict or extreme before ... but then again, our species did survive on fruits and other raw foods for generations and generations and generations and generations and ... So I guess it really shouldn't be that extreme.

Anyway, I'll let you know how it goes. We'll see what tune I'm singing by the end of tomorrow.

Something Fishy in B-Town

I just downloaded all my photos from Barcelona from my memory chip to my computer and um, I have over 1,200 to go through, so this cooooooooould take a whiiiiiiiiiiiile to weed out the good from the bad ...

But in the meantime, here's a photo of the city ...

And also one of two HUGE fish heads at the market:

Just keepin' it real, people.

Make-Believe

 Tonight my life appears to be out of a stereotypical romantic comedy.

Got back at the beginning of this week from Barcelona. Thursday morning the boyfriend left for a one-week vacation in Switzerland with his family. That night I attended the private media event and fashion show for a brand-new boutique in Scottsdale Fashion Square. And tonight I am eating cold Chinese takeout from the box while sipping on a glass of white wine and watching episodes of Gossip Girl while also working on my luxury living column and trying to decide whether or not I want to register for a certain writer's workshop.

HA! When it's written like that it almost makes my freelancing life look exciting, right? What that story leaves out is that Thursday morning I also had to drive into central Phoenix for a "career search resources seminar" mandated by the state unemployment office. Weeeeeeeeee.ee.ee. I also spent all day yesterday and last night and today hanging out with my parents. Because I'm cool like that. Because that's just how I roll. Because my mom makes a mean Southwestern-style meatloaf. Hey, don't judge.

But, I also spent several hours while I was at my parents' sifting through all my photos from Spain, so provided I get plenty of free time tomorrow, I should be able to post at least a few.

The Story of Cosmetics

Check out this great short video on the troubles with the body care and cosmetics industries, and also, to easily check whether or not you talk too much with your hands. [If you move your arms and hands as much as this narrator, the answer is yes.]

But seriously, it's a good look at what you may be putting into your body -- your family members, too -- every day, every week, every year.

I Am Back from Barcelona!

And it was glorious. Stories and photos to come.

A Site About Writing Margaritas

Trying to build my writer's website and wanting to scream and pull my hair out.

Is it too early for a drink?

I Know You Remember That Episode

"No time! There's never any time!"



I'm feeling a little overwhelmed this week.

The good news is that one of the other women I met on my Santa Fe trip is the editor in chief of two magazines on the East Coast, and she's been sending a ton of copy editing work my way over the course of just the past several days. So hooray for that!

The bad news is I have at least one more Santa Fe article to write (but I did at least finish one! Woo-hoo!) as well as soooo maaaaany posts to queue up (for the website I've been writing) before I leave for Spain on Sunday that I'm this close [ ] to banging a hole into the wall with my head. I also desperately want to finish my personal website so that I can start using it as a marketing tool, like a place where I can post all my clips for viewing and my contact information. And I was counting on having all of this week to churn out a ton of work, pack, get the house organized and get any outstanding matters (bills, plans, laundry, etc.) all squared away for me and my boyfriend before I left town, but I just don't think it's going to happen ...

... because my boyfriend and his brother somehow came up with the idea that THIS WEEK would be the perfect time for a visit. So my boyfriend's brother and his girlfriend are driving from Oklahoma to Arizona and will be arriving today. How's that for timing? And it doesn't make sense, because I won't even be able to be here through the duration of their visit, because my flight leaves at 7 a.m. Sunday morning. {Confused, one-eyebrow-raised, palms out and up, face.}

So on top of all the work I have to do in order for my newly self-employed, um, self, to turn over some kind of income, I also had to go to the grocery store to buy $300 worth of groceries (look, boys eat A LOT, all right?) as well as clean the house, do all the laundry, wash all the dishes, tidy up the guest bedroom, etc. etc. and so on, and so on, and so forth, ad nauseam.

I mean, seriously? Men are the worst schedulers. They usually mean well by it all -- and the conflicts are mostly innocent, but still. STILL.

Oh, and I should mention that apparently he (my boyfriend) isn't taking any time off from work while our guests are here, so I hope they don't mind watching me work around the house tomorrow and Friday morning, because even though god knows I love them and will be happy to see them, I will not have time for much beyond setting out the chips and salsa and handing them a map of Phoenix. :)

AND, I have a networking lunch this afternoon in Old Town with a woman who runs a fashion blog here in the city.

I can't even think about how much I'm looking forward to Spain until I'm at the airport on Sunday. Then I'll let myself be "so excited, I'm so excited."

Santa Fe, Part Two

On my last day in Santa Fe, I woke up extra early for a solo hike up toward the Santa Fe National Forest. Here are some photos that I took of a few cool trees while I was out there (before I had to scoot back down to the resort and pack up my things to make it to the airport in time).