Today was really productive. I'm trying to shake off my college-student sleeping schedule, and am so far managing to wake up a little before 7:30. Tomorrow I might make it by 7. I need to if I want to hit the gym before driving into Woods Hold for the "Blogstorming" meeting at WCAI.

Steve explained that it's like brainstorming, only about blogging.

I might get to write my very own official broadcast organization-sponsored blog! All about my archival discoveries at the Woods Hole Historical Center.

And, I'll give it my own little Xtina-twist, of course.

I only worked in the bookstore from about 10-2, but that was enough time for Carol to give me her personal, overly in-depth tour of each shelf and its contents and potential audiences. I am getting to be an expert on just what the perfect present for someone turning twelve who liked the Lemony Snicket series but has read them all might be.

What has really been hammered into my head is that three year old boys like truck books. And that the trend of the moment is fairies. Scholastic put out this fairy series, and now we have a whole shelf devoted to the winged folk.

Once two o'clock rolled around, I bid everyone adieu and headed to my favorite sandwich shop. I think the lady's starting to recognize me. What she doesn't realize is that I'll soon be cut off the parental credit card and will no longer be in the market for $8 specialty sandwiches. But I'm getting my fill for now.

When it turned out that the archives weren't actually open at the time we'd thought, I realized I couldn't accomplish much at the station, so scooted back to Falmouth to perform various errands. I'm looking for a bike and a solution to my engine problems. For now all I acquired was a library card. That's useful, right?

Then, I went to a crazy Pilates class. It was very intense, but I'm not quite sure it was Pilates. The instructor is hilarious though. She has this really high-pitched voice, and an accent that sounds like a Massachusetts accent, but almost has a Southern twang.

"Now it's time for the backstroke. Ladies, it's just like you're at Old Silvah."

Old Silver is one of the beaches in town.

So, abs kicked into gear, I'm back at home, puttering, and trying to decide between reading Michael Chabon's "The Mysteries of Pittsburgh," which Katherine was reading this weekend and is advertised about being about the summer after graduation and thus seems apropos, or watching The Jane Austen Bookclub, a sappy romance I christened my library card with.