This is your life (for sale).

Over the past week, I've taken calls from my parents in Midland and San Angelo with regards to items of mine in their storage spaces. The Midlanders are discontinuing their storage unit and moving things to the house. The San Angeloans are having a garage sale next week. I just find the items in question really funny.

In Midland is a crib, a changing table, and a high chair -- all of which I used as a baby and, let's be honest, figured I would have used for my own children by now. But that hasn't happened, and I haven't the heart to sell them. I've convinced the Angeloans to take them. Thank goodness! If they hadn't, I'd have to find a place for them here, and that could be problematic given that our landlord has taken to PADLOCKING the garage and, not that I expect to have anyone in my bedroom, but I suspect that seeing a crib and changing table might prove to be a little scary.

In San Angelo, it is the comforter set my grandparents bought me when I turned 1, my softball bat, a shower caddy, and the dry-erase board that hung on my dorm-room door. (RIP, Gaston Hall.) The dry-erase board still reads, "DAYS UNTIL AMANDA GRADUATES: 0" and includes an invitation to the other girls on my floor to come over and watch C.S.I. The episode, in case you're wondering, was "Chasing the Bus." The shower caddy I could care less about. The comforter is non-negotiable, as it's another one of those things I've always envisioned passing down to my own daughter. The bat I'm willing to sell, but not without a moment of hesitation. We bought that bat a week or so after one of those games that I will never forget...

My team had a double-header that day in the city tournament. I went 0-for-whatever in the first game, so frustrated that I was in tears. A coach from another team came and sat with me, calmed me down, and encouraged me. The second game, I went on a hitting street. I remember the rush of confidence that came over me as I sprinted to first base, just as I remember turning to the stands once I got there to see that coach sitting there with his thumbs up.

Memories or not, I haven't played softball in years. I suspect that somewhere in those boxes, they'll find the glove I inherited from my stepdad, along with my batting glove. The bat is going for $0.25. A bargain at twice the price, I must say.

The Dream

I dreamed of my daughter on my mother's birthday.

Four years old. Red plaid dress. Patent Mary-Janes with socks trimmed with lace on the cuffs. Caramel-colored pigtails. Asleep on my shoulder as I carried her from place to place.

Susie.

People I met thought that I was my mother. They thought that Susie was me.

And she was beautiful. Oh was she beautiful.

12 Pictures of My Day

So, every month Chad does a photo essay-type thing called 12 of 12. And, every month, I attempt to participate. I'm thwarted more often than not. Either my camera battery runs out or I am so busy at work (which, ironically, would make a great 12 of 12, no?) and completely forget about anything other than meticulously entering my boss's Outlook contacts. This month, however, I made it to 12...

12:06 a.m. - "Let's just say I want to believe."

The official 'teaser' trailer for the new X-Files movie (The X-Files: I Want to Believe) premiered at midnight on Monday. Or, rather, it was supposed to. The official site crashed, so I had to do some hunting. I eventually found it on IGN and watched with rapt attention...everything I had already seen in the trailer they showed at Paley. I'm still excited about the movie, but wished I had gone to bed after Brothers and Sisters ended, after all. Oh well! Is it July 25 yet?

9:25 a.m. - The wheels on the bus go round and round... Can you make them go any faster?

I'd like to say that I was taking the bus because I am just. that. committed. to reducing my carbon footprint. But, in all honesty, I am taking the bus because my car is in the shop for repairs. Not that I don't care about Mother Earth or anything...just that I wish L.A. had a public transportation system along the lines of New York. Case in point: Metro Rapid 704 to West L.A. I waited over 30 minutes in the rain for the bus in Silver Lake. Oh, how I love my neighborhood, though.

10:13 a.m. - Crossing Santa Monica Boulevard.

As long as it took for the bus to pick me up, it didn't take too horribly long to actually get to my destination in Century City. In this picture, I'm crossing Santa Monica and heading toward my office building, which you unfortunately can't see in the pic. I was really surprised at how busy the bus was yesterday morning. The driver had to deny entrance to some people because of overoccupancy. While on the bus this morning (Tuesday), I heard a news report about how traffic is decreasing and it's suspected that more people are taking public transportation. (Though I wonder if it's really just an advertisement.)

11:43 a.m. - Notes, notes, and more notes.

The head of my department gave me a book to read. I read it. Mostly. And gave notes on it. End of story.

12:52 p.m. - Reports, reports, and more reports.

Every Monday, we have a departmental lunch meeting. This particular Monday, we ordered in food from Factor's Famous Deli (I had a BBQ chicken salad...yum!). I'm distributing my monthly report on projects we have in production and in development.

3:06 p.m. - I feel. Like Hell.

I really hope I'm not getting sick. I really hope the horrible, horrible sore throat is just allergy-related. But combined with fatigue and achiness, things do not look good. Luckily, I had (a) Fluffy Cow to lean on, (2) Advil, and (3) a small piece of chocolate. They helped a little bit.

5:52 p.m. - Punching holes.

I really like my electric three-hole puncher -- especially on days where I've got eight scripts, four call sheets, and numerous reports to "punch." The head of marketing came in the other day and told me that from the hall, the machine sounded like someone blowing their nose. Good to know!

7:02 p.m. - At The Cellar Restaurant with my friends Kara and Kyle.

I love coming to this restaurant. Most of the time, we sit outside. However, with the general poopiness of the weather in the 310 yesterday, it was wiser to move our party indoors. I love the kitsch factor, including these Vanity Fair pictures.

9:23 p.m. - And then he had a hook...

Our favorite Irish pub in L.A. -- O'Brien's -- hosts pub trivia on Monday nights from 9 p.m. through 11 p.m. Because I wasn't feeling good, I was in the mood for a shepherd's pie -- sans the meat. (I really should just order the potatoes and carrots.) Kyle finished it off for me -- and hammed for the camera with his beer cider. At this point in the game, things are fan-tas-tic.

10:59 p.m. - Well, that sucked.

We were in first place. Alone. And then the final bonus question came around and we got it wrong. As a result, we did not win. We did not qualify for the tournament. We were bummed. It was a good round of trivia for us, though. And there's always next week...

11:39 p.m. - I've got the shower!

That was supposed to be sung a la 'I've got the power!' Boo. Hiss. I know. I like my pretty bathroom, though!

11:54 p.m. - It begins where it ends...

Time to go to sleep. Man, just looking at this picture makes me want to go home RIGHT NOW and go back to bed. My cozy, cozy room.