As a freelance copywriter, I write for a bunch of different organizations from event promoters in the gay community to nonprofits and Web 2.0 technology companies. Most of my clients don’t have a set of rules they enforce for their marketing materials. I never know who uses a comma before “and” in a series or who italicizes a magazine name because they don’t know if they do those things.

A few days ago I decided I would adopt The Associated Press Stylebook as the primary Avenue Z style. It arrived a couple of days ago, and, geek that I am, I have been reading the dang thing cover to cover. This book will join Strunk and White’s The Elements of Style on my reference shelf.

Oh, the joy of having rules! Here are ten random things that I’m glad the Stylebook tells me how to write:

1. Choose “cleft lip” over “harelip.”
2. There’s a hyphen in “hanky-panky.”
3. The preferred term is “flutist,” not “flautist.”
4. “Cop: Be careful in the use of this colloquial term for ‘police officer.’ It may be used in lighter stories and in casual, informal descriptions, but often is a derogatory term out of place in serious police stories.”
5. A “pom-pom” can be a rapid firing automatic weapon. “Pompoms” or “pompons” are what cheerleaders shake (among other things).
6. “Impassible” means that passage was impossible, such as an “impassable bridge.” “Impassible” suggests an inability to be affected, and “impassive” implies that no reaction was visible.
7. You don’t have to capitalize “tollhouse cookies.”
8. There is no plural of the word “Ms.” If you have a list of women with that title, you have to say “Ms. Smith” and “Ms. Ziesenis.”
9. There’s no period after the “Dr” in “Dr Pepper.”
10. “Continual” means a steady repetition, over and over again. “Continuous” means uninterrupted, steady, unbroken.

It’s Friday, and I got nuthin.

Have a great weekend.

For the last 30 minutes, I’ve been a frantic clicker. I don’t want to start working on any projects because my January eNewsletter is about to go out. My boyfriend just sent me a text message, and ordinarily I’d respond in a matter of seconds, but I’m holding my breath… In 10 minutes. In 9 minutes….

I love when the eNewsletter goes out. I’ve got just shy of 1900 subscribers, and I love it when it hits their inboxes. I can track open rates, links clicked, webinar signups immediately. It’s a rush.

My monthly eNewsletter keeps me in touch with my clients and people I hope will be clients. It reminds them that I’m a freelance writer who is ready when they are. I include what I consider to be helpful tips and useful information, and I frequently get kudos about the content. Again, it’s a rush.

In 6 minutes now….

P.S…. You can sign up right under my picture to the right.

Today I broke down and took my calloused feet to a nail salon for a European Deluxe Pedicure. And a manicure. And an eyebrow wax. Ok, I really broke down and treated myself.

The pock-marked Asian man who worked on my fingers clucked as he held my hands. “I think you do no color. The nails too short. You need tips or no color. I think color will look bad.”

I went with a nice buff, and he continued to talk. “No customers today. We work on commission. No customers, no money. I should be home.”

I don’t know how many times during the course of my treatments that he mentioned he wasn’t making any money and that he worked on commission. I started to feel guilty with my little $15 manicure and buff, so I asked for the eyebrow wax. I wanted him to say something like, “I’m glad you came in today, lady. You’re one of my first customers today.” But he was obviously disappointed I wasn’t ordering a big-ticket item like a full set of airbrushed nails and a complete body wax.

When he finished my manicure, he flounced down wearily on a stool and flipped through a very old issue of People magazine. He held up a before-and-after of Kirstie Alley. “I don’t know why she got so fat,” he said. “She not bad now, but why she get fat?”

At least he had changed the subject.

His “poor mouthing,” as my mother calls it, made me uncomfortable. It also made me consider my own business. On this blog, I tell the truth about my business ups and downs. One of my most popular posts was “Is my slip(up) showing? When blogs say too much.” I’ve talked a number of times about how I’m not making the money I did at my last job and how I value every penny I make and see it as a few more weeks of independence.

Again, am I being too honest here? Should I create an illusion that Avenue Z Writing Solutions is a large, established company with an office in downtown San Diego and a team of writers? Should I stop telling the inside story here on my blog and simply concentrate on putting my best face forward?

I don’t think that type of deception would work for me, but I don’t think one has to poor mouth to express an honest thought about budgets or income. Sometimes on this blog I let out a sigh and tell myself, “no customers, no money.” But for the most part, I try not to whine about finances.

Besides — I just treated myself to a spa visit. How bad could things be?