Today is the beginning of my vacation. I sit here, watching my son chew his sleeve ann try his best to stay standing on on his feet.

This is going nowhere. I fail again.

Wordcount: 34

Trying NaNoWriMo again! I've had two babies since the last time I tried this, and I'm already three days late. Here we go.

Once upon a time there was a little girl named.... There was a little girl named....

Ethel ran into the room. "Mama! What are you doing?" Ethel scrambled onto the couch and planted herself next to her mother.

"I'm trying to write a story," replied Alanna. Ethel's cute little face wrinkled into a frown.

"Mama, can you find a cat? Can you find a cat one? Can you find a dog? How about a song on the computer? How about a song? On this computer? Tinkle tinkle little star. Ouch! My knee! Mama! I can't fold it! I can't fold it!" Alanna looked down at her two-year old daughter. She was desperately trying to fold up the hem of her spider pants to take a glance at her knee, which to Alanna's knowledge, hadn't been hit or damaged in any way since Ethel sat down. Alanna sighed. There was no way she'd get to fifty-thousand words. At this rate, the best she could do is write down everything as it happened, because it is easier than trying to come up with a story idea on her own.

Alanna realized she had just written that last sentence in peace, no prodding from her daughter, no questions. A glance to her left told her the reason. Ethel had just plunked down to sleep in mid knee-check with her hand still on her right pants leg. Alanna studied her sleeping daughter. She was envious of how easily Ethel could go from non-stop, full-tilt action to extreme sleeper in less than a minute. When was the last time I simply just laid down to take a nap? When was the last time I did any of my hobbies or read a book or watched any of my TV shows in peace and quiet. When was the last time I did anything for myself? Then she realized with a laugh that she got a massage last Saturday. Granted, it was the first one in six months, but still, that was one blessed hour of relaxing and being pampered.

Alanna got back down to business. Writing a story about a little girl was... tedious and unfruitful. Writing about herself, however, was yielding something, even if it was only her own stream of consciousness. Perhaps writing like this, just letting the words flow, was a good exercise for when she got down to writing the novel proper. It had been a long time since she concentrated on writing anything, save the letter to her pen pal and the occasional Facebook update. Those two things were, at most one page and at least 144 characters long. This was different. This was supposed to be a book. This was supposed to be an exercise in mental ability, a test to see if she could still concentrate on something long enough to produce anything worth reading. The last and longest thing she wrote was a fifty page paper back in college and that was definitely not worth reading. She received an A on it though, as everyone who finished the paper at length and on time got.

She remembered how she used to write in high school. Lots of long, flowery phrases peppered her work, which had an actual point, a thesis statement to make when all was said and done. She remembered how at some point after college, Alanna looked through her papers and creative writing assignments and wondered, "Did I actually write this?" The assignments were actually good. Why couldn't she find that spot in her brain, that creative writing treasure now?

Alanna felt her writing train slowing down. Her mind wandered to video games and other hobbies she missed. "I still haven't sewn baby shoes for Ivan," she thought to herself. Her poor 8-month-old would have to remain shoeless. She hadn't baked bread for the family in days, hadn't knit or played piano in almost years. Having children is rewarding and hard. The danger lies in having to put yourself to the side for their sake and losing yourself, transforming from "Alanna" to "Ethel and Ivan's Mom."

Wordcount: 709

So I'm late starting my NaNoWriMo novel. Better late than never. Here's the goal for today - write as much as I can in seventeen minutes. I have to go after that.

April sat on the edge of a long glassy lake. It was four times as long as it was wide, like looking at a freakishly long reflecting pool. In that pool were mosquito eggs, fish, tadpoles, rowboats, paddle boats, inner tubes, swimming tourists, and the body of Jenny Gales.

No one nowadays remembered the name of the lake before it became Jenny Gales Lake after Jenny Gales disappeared in the lake some forty years ago. Some of the senior citizens did, of course, if one wanted to sit and wait for the answer amidst ramblings of fishing spots and "the good old days". April sighed. Her grandmother was Jenny Gales and somewhere in her grandmother's lake was a secret to a hidden fortune.

April looked at her fishing line. It hadn't moved in an hour. The bait was waterlogged, she knew she ought to reel it in and put a fresh worm on the hook. The fishing wasn't important though. What was important was the thinking time. Fishing was just an excuse to spend hours by the lake with no one to bother her. April's father Ted, an avid golfer, was spending the day on the course with her uncle Jim and whoever else they found at the pro shop. April's mom, Olivia, was at the lake house with her annoying little brother Daniel and whoever he could find to tolerate his obnoxious fart noises and booger jokes. Their mom said it was a phase that all nine-year-old boys go through. He'll grow out of it when school starts again in the fall.

April was the type of girl who didn't mind spending time by herself. She enjoyed fishing, reading, or walking through the woods. Most of all, she was a thinker, an intellectual. She didn't watch television, and when she did, she was more interested in documentaries than the science fiction drivel that Daniel couldn't miss every night. She had been told that her grandmother, Dr. Jennifer Gales, had also been an intellectual. She had been a biologist studying the effects of pollution on the lake environment before she had been lost.

Time's up. blah.

Wordcount: 355 words.

Story idea: Girl is married to guy. They don't really hate each other, but they don't exactly love each other anymore. Girl meets another guy. They have a lot of fun but they don't exactly love each other either.

Man, this is sounding familiar... hehe.

Add: Superhero powers, shoppping, crazy shenanigans.

Wordcount: 51

Allie was stuck. James or Andrew? James... or Andrew...? Her mind swam as she sat on her couch and laid her head back. Allie closed her eyes and thought. She had been with James for 3 years. He was good, reliable, and stable. Granted, there were no good surprises with James, but there were no bad ones either.

Then there was Andrew. He and James were a lot alike. Both smart and funny. Both were settled and reliable. Stable. They were both her type. What made Andrew different? He was new. Allie didn't know everything about him yet. That must be what makes him so appealing. That and the fact that she can't have him, because she's stuck with James.

Allie banged her head against the couch with a grimace. What can I do? She knew what she could do. Nothing. Absolutely nothing. Allie figured she could just ignore what she was feeling and sooner or later, it would go away. Andrew was just a passing fad. He was just a guy she met at the Barnes and Noble, nothing to be apprehensive about. He would be no trouble at all.

Then why did I give him my phone number? Stupid, stupid girl. I know better than that. Allie fought with herself. It was harmless though. What I have is a small infatuation over a passing stranger in a bookstore. That's all. He probably won't even call... again.

Allie threw herself on the couch. I talked to him for two hours. I know better than that! What's the matter with me? Am I so bored that I need to talk to a stranger for two hours to feel exciting? She flipped over and stared at the ceiling. Okay, that's it. If he calls again, I'm just not going to answer. I'm just not going to do it. I'm a smart girl. I've got a good thing going, with me and James. There are no surprises, there's no drama, and there's no sex. Allie sat straight up. Her hand flew to her mouth in alarm. Did she just think that? She did. Why was this happening? She should be happy! She's got a great guy! What more could she want?

The word flew through her head like a bat out of hell.

Andrew.

Wordcount: 382. Stop the internal monologue. You do it way too much.

All right. So I failed at NaNoWriMo again. Going the sexy/smutty route didn't work. Bah. I just wasn't excited about writing. 'Tis sad. This post is even more sad. Meh.

Wordcount: 30. Two of the words aren't even words. Bluh.

Of course, to pass help her pass the time, Adrienne masturbated. She scooted her chair back so she would have some extra leg room. Sometime between her second and third orgasm, Jeremy knocked on the door.

"Come in!" she yelled As he entered, Adrienne took her empty bowl of sticky, gooey mess to the sink and washed her hands. "Hey, what's up?"

She turned only to find Jeremy studying what was on her computer screen. "Porn again?"

"yeah, so what? Want a soda?" Adrienne glanced through the refrigerator.

"Sure, I'll have one. NOthing, it's just that you look at porn more than any girl I've met before. What's this?" Adrienne handed him a cp of water.

"I don't have any soda left," she said, sipping on her own soda. "and I don't think there's anything wrong with a member of the female sex looking at pornographic materials."

"I'm not saying there's anything wrong with it. I'm sure lots of girls look at porn. Not as much as most guys do, but I'm sure there are some. Like you, for example." Jeremy bent down to peer closer at the the computer screen. "Is that man licking that other man's balls?"

"Yes he is. Actually in the first picure, that guy," she pointed at the ball-lickee, "rubbed his balls in cheese and powdered sugar before the other guy started licking." Jeremy made a disgusted face. "What? Some people find that erotic."

"Not that, the cheese and powdered sugar. Sounds awful." Adrienne nudged Jeremy away from the computer and sat down in her computer chair. "Anyway, to finish my thought, I do think that most girls are not as open to talk about the whole porn issue,let alone just leave it on the computer screen for anyone to see."

"It's not like my parents just walked it. It's you. I don't need to hide my porn-ness from you."

Wordcount: 316
Total Wordcount: 2108
Notes to self: I just can't concentrate today. Maybe I'll break a wall with the next post, but today... meh.