Sway's Weekend Music Pick: "Dancing On My Own" by Robyn

Ahzooey! Gesundheit.

Living the life of a freelancer definitely lends itself to days of complete confusion.

Yesterday a former colleague of mine at the magazine asked me, "Well, so, is life just awesome now that you get to work for yourself, or is it stressing you out beyond belief?"

To which I replied: "Yes."

Truthfully, my answer to that question tends to vary pretty widely depending on the hour you ask me. Sometimes I have days where I think this is the coolest thing in the world. I'm proud of myself for not being afraid to go it alone. I can own up to the fact that I'm not going to make anything close to a full-time wage in the beginning, but I feel good overall, because I believe in my ability to eventually build up enough contacts and assignments and projects to continue this career that I love.

Other days? Not so much. Those are the days I get super impatient and frustrated that I'm not getting the call-backs I really wanted. Those are the days I go for walks around the block in the middle of the 107-degree afternoon just because I need to get out of the office and breathe some different air. Usually accompanied by head-shaking.

But the hope and common sense in me have not yet failed to straighten me out again. I mean, things are looking up. Yesterday I received official notice from Ahzooey (sorry, I mean, AZUI -- Arizona Unemployment Insurance) that I am, in fact, approved to receive benefits.

This comes after the fact that the payroll company (who, weirdly enough, according to the government and for tax purposes I guess, is my employer, rather than the magazine, which I was hired by but who contracted the payroll company) declared I had voluntarily given up my job. Now that just isn't true. So after explaining to Ahzooey that I was laid off under the state's definition of "one's job [being] moved beyond a reasonable commuting distance" (I'm pretty sure Phoenix to Los Angeles counts), I received a nice letter in the mail yesterday informing me that the issue had been cleared up and I was approved to start receiving benefits.

Ahzooey's letter says:

"You are eligible for unemployment insurance." 

Then there's a lot of blank space. Below that:

"You indicated you were laid off or discharged from your last employer. Your employer was the client of a leasing agency that has a rule regarding reporting for subsequent employment after your assignment ends. However, there is no reasonable expectation that you should have know about this rule, because you did not have direct contact with the leasing agency ..."

Ummm ... YEAH. Of course I didn't know about that rule! What does that even mean?? What, was I supposed to show up at the office of the company who handled our payroll and be all like, "Yo, reporting for duty. What else can I copy edit for you fine people?" Crazies.

I also got word on fees for a few of the upcoming articles I'll be completing for the magazine. Because I'll be doing both the writing and photography, the total for those should come close to $1,000, depending on how many photos they end up printing. Which is a nice number. Until I consider that the payments will be spread out over four months, so it's really like I'm averaging $250/month with that ... But let's not get bogged down by accounting details, right? I'll take it.

Also, I did find some good information in Palm Springs that I think I can use. But because that's still currently on spec, that subject is lower on my priority list right now. What isn't low on my priority list, however, and needs to be finished as quickly as is humanly possible, is completing many, many blog posts within the next few days for the website I'm writing for. Since I'll be in Santa Fe Sunday through Wednesday of next week, that means I need at least four posts completed ahead of time that I can schedule to go up automatically on those days, in addition to my posts for today, tomorrow and Saturday. So a week's worth of posts completed by Sunday morning, that's my goal. If I don't make it, I'll just be working late-ish those evenings I'm in New Mexico.

Speaking of which! I'm super excited about that trip, as the resort and its PR company is going to be treating us really well. (I say "us" because this is a press trip for a group of reporters and other media persons. Think of it as summer camp for journalists, lol.) We're touring the Santa Fe Opera, visiting the Railyard District, seeing art galleries, trying awesome Mexican restaurants, going on a nature walk, participating in a yoga class, receiving "Mountain Spirit Purification" treatments at the spa ... It's going to be ridiculous. And amazing. Probably ridiculously amazing. I'll blog the whole thing if I'm not working like a fanatic in the evenings. And then when I get back, I'll have nine days to write two articles about the details of my trip, etc. !!!

OK, enough procrastination, I'm off to churn out some words.

Memo to Jaron: It's Not Funny, It's Creepy

Is this a joke? This guy has some serious bitterness issues ...

Ein Paar Mohrrüben

Tomorrow I'm leaving for Palm Springs, California, with my family. The company my dad works for will be putting us up in a nice hotel for their summer regional meeting, which means during the mornings my dad will be in meetings, my mom will be in spouse meetings, and my sister and I will get to run around the hotel like we own the place. I see a lot of pool time and fruity drinks in our future.

But I'm not going just to have fun and spend time with my family for Father's Day Weekend, I'm also going to be "working" a little. My plan is to collect enough information while we're there to enable me to write two or three different articles on the hotel, that area of the city, things to do, things to see, etc. I don't know, I'll see what I find when I get there.

If I find an interesting topic or trend right away while I'm there, I'll start writing this weekend, and then next week commit to finishing the articles, and then the following week send out queries to sell them.

One week after that, I head out to Santa Fe to check out Encantado Resort and write another travel article for my ex -- my ex-employer, that is -- the magazine. And then, three weeks after that, my family and I will spend one week in Barcelona, Spain, where I will be doing my best impression of an information sponge so that I can write another two or three travel articles on that city as well. I already have a publication interested in buying one of those, so that's a plus.

Currently, I still have a regular blogging gig and am applying like crazy to many others, as well as full-time positions. Just whatever will stick. I'm also working on a beauty product feature for, once again, my ex-magazine, that will hopefully publish in August. 

And, today a lady from the state unemployment office called me to ask my why I had reported a few hundred dollars on my last weekly claim. I told her it was from odd jobs, freelance writing, and assured her I was not employed full-time again (which would, obviously, mean that I didn't need unemployment benefits anymore). But she said she was going to send me a "survey" anyway, which I have to fill out in order to provide more information regarding this tiny sum of money I've acquired so that they can determine whether or not my benefits can, in fact, be paid out to me.

Yo ho, yo ho, it's a writer's life for me.

Anyway, all this talk of varying income hurts my brain, so to end on a different note ... For the last few weeks, when applying for writing jobs starts to make my eyes cross, I've been taking breaks on Livemocha.com, brushing up on my German and doing beginners' courses in a few other languages. Some of the exercises they ask you to complete have this entertaining feature where other users can submit helpful tips that will appear on the bottom right of your screen. That's all I'm gonna say. That's really all I need to say. 

Nike's Write the Future Commercial

In honor of the 2010 World Cup, I bring you the best soccer commercial ever. (Or at least the longest.)

I love how they show Wayne Rooney beating Roger Federer at table tennis.

Our Condo Is Spotless

Last week was not a super one, although it ended happily.

It started with having to do my first weekly filing for unemployment insurance, which was something of a confusing and demoralizing process. For that I also needed my final paystub from the magazine, which employees are supposed to be able to retrieve online, however, my login failed. (Which is weird, considering the company has still not removed my access to my company e-mail or the magazine's web-based software ...) So thus ensued a series of annoying phone calls until my paystub was eventually retrieved and a copy mailed to Arizona's "Department of Economic Security." Yippee.

Tuesday I heard back regarding a job interview I'd had just before Memorial Day Weekend. No go. And it was a really, really, really perfect position for me, too. I was extremely disappointed.

Wednesday I was supposed to meet up with a friend who is a horse trainer and hunter/jumper instructor for a free riding lesson, which I now finally have the time to do since I am no longer working full-time. I've waited long time to be able to take her up on her offer, and then on Wednesday she had to cancel at the last minute. I mean, I can't be too upset, because after all, she is doing a really nice thing here and offering to give me a completely free lesson, but she's also leaving for California this week with one of her pupils for the rest of the summer to go on a horse showing tour of Cali or some such biz.

Thursday my debit card number was stolen, or maybe it had been stolen long before that and the thief only attempted to use it on Thursday, who knows. Either way, I was not happy about it. The only good thing about the whole situation was that my card was declined at a coffee shop that happened to be right next door to one of my bank's branches, so I was just like, "Excuse me," and then walked a few yards to ask the teller, "Yo, what the *&$# is going on with my account." This raised an interesting situation, in which I discovered that apparently it takes three representatives to help a customer solve a fraud issue at that particular location. Good times.

Friday morning, before my boyfriend headed off to work, we were sitting at the dining room table, having breakfast, and I said, "You know, we really need to get together with our landlords to renew our lease. I think it expires this week."

Time out. First, some background information you may find helpful. Important things to know:

1. Our landlords are good friends of ours, and were even long before we became their tenants. They're kind of like the super cool aunt and uncle you may already have or just wish you had. This is why they trust us enough to let our lease wind down to the week of without a renewal -- they know we're good for it. This is also why they never felt the need to come by the condo a single time during the whole past year we've been living in it. They trust us and are cool like that. But still, I think all four of us were just getting lazy about the renewal, and I knew we shouldn't put it off any longer, which is why I brought it up.

2. They live in a 7,000-square-foot palace up in the mountains outside of Scottsdale. They have impeccable taste and are, as you might expect, somewhat picky about almost everything. Not in a huge pain in the neck kind of way, but picky.

3. A week and a half ago, I finally made a list for my boyfriend of six or seven things that needed to be done around our condo that I knew either he would want to do himself, or that he should do due to my lack of capability in that particular area. Examples would include replacing our air filter, emptying our vacuum (every time I do it, I make a huge mess and sneeze for days), clean the outdoor grill (which is on loan from our landlords), reduce the piles and piles of random stuff on his desk in the office ... Etcetera, etcetera, etcetera.

4. As of Friday, my boyfriend had done approximately zero of these things.

Time in. So we were sitting at the breakfast table, and I brought up the issue of the lease. "Yeah," he said, "Let's e-mail or call them today and see if we can swing by this evening to do it." Well, of course that's code for me e-mailing or calling, so as soon as he left for work I sent the wife a message with our proposal. We know it's always more convenient for us to come to them, so we always meet at their home. She wrote back and said that sounded great, we could come over at 6. Perfect. I sat down at my desk, and I began to answer e-mails and settle in for another day of filling out job apps and so on. But then another message from her pops up in my inbox. "Actually," she writes, "we will come to you guys. We can see the condo and sign the lease and then all go to dinner afterward. See you at 6."

Now, believe me when I tell you that from 8 a.m. to 1 p.m., I did absolutely nothing but clean. I mean, I keep it pretty clean here all the time, especially lately, because I've been, ahem, at home more often. But let's be honest, there's a difference between cleaning for yourself and cleaning for your picky landlords who are coming over with your lease renewal contract. Right?

So guess who got to take care of the many items on my boyfriend's to-do list? That's right. Me. And the rest of everything else. I started in the kitchen, worked my way into the entry hall, then on to the living room, dining room, hallway, guest room, guest bath, master bath ... And about the time I made it to the master bedroom, about 1:00, my boyfriend came home from work. I told him he owed me big time. He told me I'd done a great job and then he went to go get us a pizza. (I swear they think differently from us, but it's the thought that counts, I suppose.)

To his credit, he did return. Bearing food, no less. And after we had recharged on a Mexican Pizza from Z's, we tag-teamed the rest of the place until it sparkled and shined. We finished at approximately 5:45, I showered in record time, and they were here at 6:15. Whew.

They said the place looked nice. We renewed the lease. And then we went out for a lovely dinner at Rhythm and Wine, where, I can happily attest, I was not asked to clean one single thing.

Sway's Weekend Music Pick: "A Fuoco" by Ludovico Einaudi

Oh boy do I have some words to say about this week. But until I can get them down into a solid post, here's some music to help you slip into the weekend. I hope the next few days are calmer for me. Oy.

To Be Filed Under: Filing

On Saturday, I submitted my application to receive unemployment benefits. It felt weird, like I should be ashamed by it, but then again, there's a large percentage of the population that's in the same boat right now. And also, as my boyfriend pointed out, we do pay unemployment insurance each time we earn wages, so if I paid for it, I might as well use it. Right? Still weird though.

In similar news, I received an e-mail today from a recent interviewer letting me know that the company had found someone else they liked better for their copywriter position. Nertz. As you can probably tell, it has not felt like a super-productive day.

Tomorrow morning, out of retaliation against the universe, I will be going for a horse riding lesson and then quite possibly to a friend's birthday party in the evening. Also, I fully intend to take part in the Irish Cultural Center of Arizona's "Bloomin' Beerfest" on Saturday. Do you hear me, universe?? That ought to shake you up a bit.

Sway's Weekend Music Pick: "Crosses" by Jose Gonzalez

The SATC Curse

This is the story of how I came to be "convinced of the hex" when it came to my attempts to see advanced screenings of a certain HBO-show-turned-feature-film.

Before the first Sex and the City movie came out, which was in the summer of 2008, a few of my friends decided we would prepare ourselves by crash-coursing on the entire series. Our most Carrie-crazy girlfriend actually had all the seasons on DVD, so once a week or so, we would settle in at her house for a marathon evening of episodes.

I don't think we made it through every single episode, but we did make it pretty dang far. And then, as its summer release date approached, I heard about an upcoming SATC event that would be taking place at Biltmore Fashion Park. As a matter of fact, I learned of the festivities via my then brand-new job working for the magazine here Phoenix. A press release had been sent to us outlining all the fun and asking whether or not we wanted to cover the event.

Well, whether the magazine was going to cover the event or not, I wanted to go! There was going to be passed appetizers, cocktails, gift bags, a fashion show, and more, as well as a ticket for an advanced showing of the movie. I had to go. And I had to tell my girls. So I forwarded them the information, and they were all in. We each bought our tickets and then anxiously awaited for the Thursday of the event to arrive.

I had begun my job at the magazine in March, however, and this event was only a few months later -- May, I think. So I should point out that at that time, I had no idea the time commitment nightmares that were in store for me ...

The day of the event, I was working. It was print week, and the rest of the staff and I were up to our ears in proofs to be sent to press. But, I just thought that that's how that week worked. NEVER did I imagine happening what really went down, which was that 6:00 came and went and I was made to stay at the office. In fact, I was there long, long, long after I had to call my friends and tell them I wouldn't be able to join them ... I was asked to work until something like 3:00 or 4:00 in the morning. Same situation the day after.

And so I missed the SATC event and my girls went without me and had a blast. My ticket was given to one of the girl's mothers so that she could go in my place and live it up. "Next time," we all said, and I looked forward to the rumored SATC sequel ...

This year, after much speculation, confirmation and anticipation, the release date for SATC 2 was announced. And this time, several dozen venues around town clued in to the mass market appeal the movie had for women and decided to capitalize on this (so smart!) by organizing silly, frilly events for lady folk. I narrowed them down to the one that I thought sounded like the most fun for the best price, with advanced screening included, on the evening that most of us would be able to attend. And when tickets went on sale, we all started logging onto the site to buy ours so that we could try this all over again the proper way.

E-mails started coming to me from each of them as they confirmed they had been able to purchase their tickets. And now I'll spare you the long and boring technology-related details, but suffice to say my purchasing process suffered from some kind of website glitch. And when I called the organizers to inquire/gently complain, nothing could make them budge and give me a ticket. Not even the fact that I made up some story about how I was the heiress to the throne of an obscure Mediterranean country. (OK, I didn't really go that far. But if I said I hadn't considered it at the time, I would be lying.)

And so there it was, for the second time a SATC movie had been released, an event was held, it was my idea to go, I talked everyone into it, and then the universe conspired against me. How. Rude.

The day before the event I had to inform one of my friend's that I wasn't going to be able to go along (again). She was dumbfounded by my bad luck. (Which, after these 26 years, is not nearly as shocking to me as it is to others I guess.) I laughed about it, because what else could I do, and after all, it is just a silly, frilly movie and a silly, frilly little event for it ...

And then the next morning, early, the day of the event and screening, my friend called me. Her mother, whom had been given my ticket two years ago when I missed the first movie due to being held hostage having to remain at work, had purchased a ticket and then heard of my serious misfortune and wanted to give it to me instead. "To break her curse," she had said.

And so I got to go after all! And, what's more is that another of our friends ended up having a work disaster that day and had to forfeit her own ticket to our friend's mom!

So that is the story of the making and the breaking of my SATC curse. Things to consider:

1. Sometimes a girl has to work. And sometimes she misses out on fun things because of it. Next time, break a window and get the heck out of there.

2. Any time it would seem a hex has been placed on you, always try to pass it off to a friend.

3. Moms are usually awesome. Even ones that aren't yours.

4. Remember: When in doubt, Carrie on.