After a long absence, I've decided to resuscitate the Baker's Dozen -- a fun and easy way to recap one's weekend. Originally, the exercise entailed summarizing the weekend with twelve bullet points and a photograph. I've made one change this time around by substituting a video for one of the bullet points. So, without further ado, let's bake...

1. Finally took down our Christmas tree. It was sad to see it go.
2. On the bright side, the living room looks huge.
3. Spent a few hours attacking the Clutter in the house, which is so pervasive, it requires capitalization.
4. Felt I made significant gains against the Clutter despite the house looking messier than ever.
5. Got sucked into Escape the Museum 2, a hidden object game (a.k.a. a time sink).
6. Hours spent playing the game weren't for naught. The skill to find hard to spot items came in handy when I accidentally spilled a bag of tiny nails in the garage.
7. Succeeded in eluding my inner editor long enough to write and post a short story on this blog¹.
8. Spent most of Sunday trying to keep the "delete entry" button away from my inner editor.
9. Watched the 52nd Annual Grammy Awards.
10. Found the Taylor Swift duet (with Stevie Nicks) and the 3-D part of the Michael Jackson 3-D tribute underwhelming.
11. My favorite performance of the night was P!nk's² "Glitter in the Air".

(For as long as it remains on YouTube, here's the video of P!nk's performance.)

(This weekend, thoughts of returning to Yosemite weighed heavily on my mind.)

¹ Short in terms of length, but long in terms of nonsense.
² If I ever become famous like P!nk, I'll seriously consider changing my name to Dav!d.

The following scene is 99.7% pure fiction. The rest is punctuation.

It was a dark, wet January morning. I was sitting at a booth in an empty diner in a small, unremarkable town somewhere in the Pacific Northwest, engrossed by the Vimeo video streaming on my laptop.

"Should I reheat that for you?"

I started at the sound of the waitress's voice, each word dripping from her mouth like syrup -- bored-out-of-its-mind syrup. I gave her a confused look.

She lifted her hand, as if to put it on her hip, but gave up halfway. She let her hand fall, rolled her eyes, and said, "Your untouched food. I gave it to you ages ago."

"You did?" I said, looking at the table, and doing a double-take at the plate of ham and eggs I swore hadn't been there before. I put my hand over it, but felt no heat.

I gazed up at the waitress, smiled sheepishly, and said, "Could you? Please?"

"Sure," she said. Her slumped shoulders slumped further. Another inch and they would have been even with her hips.

She sighed, reached slowly for the plate, caught a glimpse of the laptop screen, and said, "Anything interesting?"

"No, just a dumb video about Sasquatch," I said, pausing the video and pivoting the computer so she could see the telltale blurry image of a tall, hairy creature more commonly known as Bigfoot.

At the mention of the cryptid, I had expected her to roll her eyes again, take my plate, and begin the long, arduous journey back to the kitchen, hundreds of inches away.

So it came as a shock when she perked up and said, "Really?!"

It was as though I had sent a jolt of electricity through her. Her bored exterior exploded to reveal a woman underneath who looked similar to the original, only taller, younger, and with better posture.

"I love Sasquatch! Are you looking for him, too? I know where he is, I mean, I have a lead. From a very reliable source. My intuition. Only I don't have a car. This job barely pays enough to cover the rent."

She paused a second to glance out the window. My head finally stopped spinning and I was about to speak when she zipped on, her lips fluttering faster than a hummingbird's wings.

"The Prius is yours, isn't it? I love the Prius. I can't afford one, but, gee, they're pretty. Anyhoo, I was able to score some tickets. Don't ask me how. Luck, I guess, but not enough because they didn't come with a car, so I have no way to get there. So, let's make a deal. If you drive, I'll share my tickets with you and we can find Sasquatch together, finally proving to the rest of the world he exists! How about it?"

I shook my head and said, "Wait! How about what? Where? Tickets to what?"

She looked at me askance and her eyes widened. "Oh! I must have skipped something. I always do when I'm excited. I have tickets to the Winter Olympics. They're in a month. In Vancouver. Up in Canada." She pointed at the ceiling.

I gave her a look that said, "And?"

"And," she said. "It's a well-documented fact that Bigfoot loves curling, which is why he has been in Canada all these years. Anyhoo, I have a hunch, a huge hunch, he's going to sneak into the Olympic venue to watch the world's greatest curlers compete right in his own backyard. We can catch him in the act! And you should know my hunches are never wrong. Say yes!"

"Uh," I said decisively. I looked at the laptop, the blurred image of Bigfoot still frozen on the screen. I looked out the window, past my car, at the now grayish-purple sky above the white-topped mountains to the east.

The voice in my head was telling me to say no, drop twenty bucks on the table, and dash from the diner. I was just about to say it when the sun peeked out and blinded me with a brilliant ray of light. In that second, something inside me flipped on like a switch, and my mouth said, "Nyes!"

I blinked.

The waitress looked puzzled for a moment, then beamed bright enough to blind the sun. She gave me a sudden, violent hug, and said, "Thank you. Thank you! I'm so Lupe, I mean, happy, and my name is Lupe! Let me grab my coat and we can get out of here and find a place to talk, someplace where the ham and eggs are warm and waitstaff aren't so glum. I hate that!"

---

In roughly three weeks, M and I are going with my sister and her fiance to Vancouver for the Winter Olympics. We'll be primarily attending curling events, with a speed skating and Nordic combined event thrown in for variety.

The only downside to this once-in-a-lifetime trip is that we'll be gone during the first week of Cinequest. How I wish the two celebrations didn't conflict. I bemoaned the fact for several weeks, but now realize I must make most of both experiences, diving into both with equal enthusiasm.

And don't worry, at every curling event, I'll keep an eye out for Sasquatch and let you know if I spot him. According to the Olympic website, he looks something like this:

Rough Sketch is an experimental short story series I'm starting. It has three rules:

1. Stories must be 800 words or less.
2. The story must be based on or inspired by real life (event, person, place, or thing).
3. The story must make me laugh, or, at the very least, make me smile.

For those keeping score at home, this is my first blog post of 2010. To celebrate, I'm sparing no expense. This post is going to be packed with italics, links, footnotes, and bullet points. There may even be a few words in a different color. I know, exciting, right?

You may have noticed I didn't mention anything about including photos in this post. If you did, I compliment you on your sharp eyes. If you didn't, oh my god, did you just see Taylor Lautner walk by?

Seriously, though, this post won't contain any photos because, well, these are difficult times and one must stay within one's budget¹.

Over the past few weeks, I've been thinking about my goals for this year. Usually, I avoid writing them down out of fear of jinxing myself by giving them a place in the "real world". I now realize this superstitious thinking was simply a way of avoiding accountability. If my goals weren't written anywhere, there wouldn't be anything for Future Me to refer to when Present Me's annual review as a fully certified adult came up.

Since one of my perennially unwritten goals is to "be a more responsible and accountable human being", I've decided to give this neglected blog a good once over with a Swiffer and use it to list some of my goals for 2010.

• Write 750 words every day. This goal was inspired by Buster Benson's 750 Words project. His site was inspired by the concept of morning pages, which was introduced in Julia Cameron's "The Artist's Way" (a project I'm also attempting this year). I hope the daily exercise of writing privately will strengthen my creative muscles so then can break free from the prison my inner editor built last year.
• Write four blog posts a week. It seems counter-intuitive to set a schedule or quota for a creative process like writing, but now that I've seen how successful spontaneity and leaving things to chance and inspiration has been, I think a routine and deadlines might help concentrate my creative energies, which have been diluted by distractions.
• Write one short story a month. I don't know if this goal is too ambitious and I suppose I won't know until I give it a try. My initial thought is to write stories that are set in the same world with the same cast of characters. I want to write something in the same spirit as Terry Pratchett, P.G. Wodehouse, and Steve Hockensmith. That is to say, I want my stories to be nimble, playful, and funny. Of course, the only way to get them there is to practice, which means reading, writing, rewriting, and rewriting some more.
• Publish one short story. I'm not sure if this means in an online publication or simply on my own site. I only know it means I want to have a full-fledged story out in the world where other eyes can read it before 2011 arrives.
• Learn to cook one new dish a week. This may also be too ambitious, but I believe it will force me to be more active in the kitchen. It's probably best to start simple. I'm thinking along the lines of thirty-minute meals or five-ingredient recipes.
• Watch only two hours of television a day.² In order to achieve my other goals, I need to be diligent about this one. When I think about the shows on my must-see list (Chuck, Castle, White Collar, Psych, Glee, Bones, The Late Late Show with Craig Ferguson) and add everything in my Netflix queue, this goal seems impossible. But if I think about weekends and the sheer number of days in the year when nothing worthwhile is on, the goal seems easily attainable.

Obviously, this isn't a complete list, but it's a start. Notably omitted are my outdoor goals. I intend to tackle them in a separate post. Also missing are what I consider "background goals" -- simple daily goals that will help me reach my bigger goals. They include things like "be more focused" and "drink more tea".

Alright, enough writing about goals. It's time to pursue them!

Hmm, upon closer inspection, it seems most of my goals are related to writing. So I suppose what I meant to say was, "Alright, enough writing. It's time to get writing!"

Also, Happy New Year!

¹ Okay, technically, this blog doesn't have a budget. And, technically, it costs just as much to insert a photo as it does to type the word "coconut". I was just feeling too lazy to take a photo. But now that I've admitted the truth, I'm feeling guilty, so here's a photo of the poster I hung on the wall next to my desk on Sunday. It's "Red Riding Hood" by John Allison.

² For the sake of sanity, I'm excluding The PBS Newshour from the two-hour limit. The daily quota is meant to limit my intake of entertainment, not news.

Song on my mind... "Everything to Me" by Rockapella. The only version I could find on YouTube was one that displayed a single picture while the song was playing. I thought this would be better than embedding a video displaying moving pictures while a single note played.

I've been on an a cappella kick this past week and I blame The Sing-Off, a week-long singing competition on NBC, which pitted eight of the country's "best" a cappella groups against one another.

I had planned on skipping the show, having been burned two years ago by another NBC talent contest called Clash of the Choirs, but I succumbed to my curiosity at the last minute and watched it.

To my surprise (and delight), most of the groups weren't awful. I would go so far as to classify two of them as "good", perhaps even "awesome". One I would call "unique", primarily because they were the only barbershop quartet in the competition and an all-female quartet at that. The rest I would label as "mediocre" or "generic", which is probably harsh because they could all sing in tune and harmonize, and had one or two standout voices, but it's true.

One of the two "awesome" groups was Nota, a six-man group from Puerto Rico. They were the most polished and professional performers in the field. They had smooth harmonies, a strong lead singer (who had an outstanding falsetto), and an excellent percussionist. They spiced up every song with their Latin style, giving them a distinct sound in the competition. Of their performances, my favorite was "Down" by Jay Sean.

The other "awesome" group was a twelve-man team from Tufts University known as the Beelzebubs. They were talented, charismatic guys who gave energetic (and often playful) performances. They were my immediate favorites.

I loved how their arrangements made full use of every voice, but never overpowered the lead singer. Of their performances, my favorites were "Sweet Caroline" (Penn Rosen sang lead) and "Come Sail Away" (Matt McCormick sang lead).

I was also a fan of their creative process. When working on a song, they used something called the Bub Box, a rectangular space they'd mark off with masking tape in their studio. Inside the box, they'd allow themselves to go as wild and crazy as they could with a song. Nothing was off limits. I love the idea of a physical place where creativity is free, unencumbered by rules or judgment.

I was also struck by something one of the Bubs said. "If you get too far with a song and the goofiness of the song, it's easy to take it back. It's a lot harder to push the song farther if you never take it over the top." It's a nugget of wisdom that's so obvious, it's easy to overlook. It's also applicable to other types of creative pursuits.

Anyway, tonight is the show's finale. Luckily, Nota and the Beelzebubs are finalists, along with Voices of Lee (a.k.a. Voices of Old Navy). I'm rooting for the Bubs, but should they fall short of the prize, I hope Nota wins.

By the way, Ben Folds rocked as one of the judges. Unfortunately, he was the only one on the three-person panel who did.

Rip the conch from the shell, do the Junkanoo party in Bahama (back to back),
And they were singing (back to back),
They said it was nothing, but a zombie jamboree,
Gonna give a Bronx cheer with an eggcream mustache.

You only mean everything to me.

Gonna give a hot towel to a humble visitor.

You only mean everything to me.

Like most folks in the Bay Area, Monday morning's low-elevation dusting of snow had me in a state of wonder. Seeing the eastern hills covered in white sent a jolt of delight through me.

It was shameful, really. People in the Silicon Valley are supposed to be cool and hip (read: cynical and unaffected).

When somebody points out the window and says, "Ooh, look, snow on Mission Peak!" A proper Silicon Valleyite keeps his eyes on his computer screen, shakes his head in pity at the poor person's misguided joy in such commonplace things, and says, "Really? That's nice. You know it looks just like the stuff that falls in the Sierras every year, right?"

He doesn't leap from his chair, race to the window, and say, "Really? Snow? Awesome!" Then run outside to get a better view. Nor does he rush off the next day after work to climb Mission Peak so he can photograph and frolic in the snow.

Yet that's what I did.

Tuesday afternoon, I drove fifteen minutes to Mission Peak Regional Preserve, Fremont's marquee park. Any local hiker worth his or her salt has hiked it, or so I'm told.

It may come as a surprise to my readers (hello, you two!) to learn this was my first visit to the park. I don't know how I managed to go all this time without setting foot within its boundaries (considering every time it came up in previous conversations with other hikers, I was always greeted with enough disbelief to motivate even the laziest couch potato to jump in the car and speed over to Fremont), but I had. Now, at least, that won't be an awkward topic on the trail.

Anyway, I parked at the end of Stanford Avenue and started the long climb up Hidden Valley Trail to the summit of Mission Peak. The way was wide, windy, and covered in gray gravel. Although one climbs 2,200 feet over 2.8 miles, the grade isn't steep. In fact, some people have found the slope so easy, they've worn footpaths into the hillside, creating shortcuts that are steeper and more challenging (in blatant disregard of the signs urging everyone to stay on the trail).

My first sighting of any significant amount of snow came two miles into the hike, just before the Grove Trail junction.

The toughest part of the hike came near the top, on the Peak Trail, where the slope and mud combined to make a slippery slide. Luckily, I had my trekking poles and kept to the snowy patches, which offered better footing.

On the way up, I passed this snowman, who seemed to have an extremely optimistic outlook on life for someone who would only be here a short time. There's a lesson in that somewhere.

When I made it to the top (2,517 feet above sea level), the view was spectacular. I could see Fremont,

the bay,

and the peaks to the east. I could even see Mt. Hamilton to the south.

I spent twenty minutes on the summit. While up there, I only encountered three hikers and a dog. One of the hikers was nice enough to take my photo, which turned out surprisingly well despite the fact that I'm in it.

All told, the hike took two hours, including time to photograph and frolic, and I must say the park and snow exceeded my unsophisticated, Silicon-Valley-unworthy expectations.

You can see a few more photos from my hike on Flickr.

For more information on hiking in the preserve, be sure to visit Bay Area Hiker, Trailspotting, and Two-Heel Drive.

After last year's NaNoWriMo loss, I wasn't sure I'd be able to manage a victory this year, but by adopting traits closely resembling concentration and persistence, I somehow succeeded. It took all thirty days, but I was able to write a 50,000-word document that looks roughly like a novel (if one squints, possibly to the point of closing one's eyes entirely).

While I'm not brave enough to share an excerpt from my NaNo-novel, I did want to share a few things that made this year's challenge unique. This year, I...

• attended only one write-in, just to see if my aversion to them had diminished. It hadn't. I lasted thirty minutes before I had to bail, unable to cope with the people and the noise. And just to be clear, by "people", I don't mean fellow novelists; I mean other cafe patrons who seemed intent on being as annoying as possible.
• found Twitter-based word sprints to be great sources of motivation The NaNoWriMo folks set up a special account (@NaNoWordSprints) to lead sprint sessions, which ranged anywhere from 20 to 40 minutes in length. The organizer would tweet "Go!", everyone participating would write furiously for the given amount of time, the organizer would tweet "Stop!", and participants would tweet how many words they had written and share a noteworthy phrase. The sprints were fun to observe and to participate in (silently).
• wrote part of my NaNo-novel in five parks -- two national parks (Yosemite and Pinnacles) and three county parks (Calero, Santa Teresa, and Almaden Quicksilver). It was an idea inspired by this year's "Camp NaNoWriMo" shirt. While the hike-n-writes weren't big word count boosters, they were great idea generators and stress relievers. They also gave me a chance to improve my iPhone thumb-typing skills. Next year, the plan is to hit more parks.

As I do every year, I would like to sum up my NaNoWriMo experience with a few fun statistics:

• Words written: 51,498
• Words written in parks: 2,091
• Highest one-day count: 6,933
• Lowest one-day count: 0
• Percent of novel written on my iPhone: 4.1
• Least productive day of the week: Saturday
• Most productive day of the week: Monday
• Number of writing days: 26
• Number of zero-word days: 4
• Cups of coffee consumed (above "normal"): 17
• Pounds of Skittles eaten: 0 (Shocking, I know!)

(or, Oh, Look, Another Music Video (By Somebody Else) Post. How Quaint.)

Song my mind... "Cousins" by Vampire Weekend. To be honest, it has only been on my mind for five minutes, but what a five minutes it has been. My quick attachment to it can be attributed to several factors:

• I've been yearning to hear something new from the band;
• The song's video (embedded below) tickles my brain;
• Upon a third listen, the tune is rather catchy;
• I've been buried ear deep in NaNoWriMo, which means I've been in a strange headspace and susceptible to new sights and sounds, and it seems the weirder they are, the more I like them.

Okay, enough procrastinating (I mean me, not you), I only have a few minutes to give my nanonovel word count a nudge before I head up to San Jose to see Gilbert and Sullivan's Pirates of Penzance. Any other month, it wouldn't have been my cup of tea, but now I may be in the perfect headspace for it.

(h/t @badmachinery)