"I was thinking about diamonds, and the world's biggest necklace." There are a number of songs running through my head tonight, and "Isis," my favorite Bob Dylan song, is one.

I was walking out of the office to do errands this afternoon when I met LP coming through the front door of the building. LP works out on the ship with the Keelhauler, and got off the boat today, while the Keelhauler stayed on. LP was carrying a package and wearing Peter Fonda sunglasses and a big smile. I almost didn't recognize him because he's cut off his long dreadlocks and gained about 25 pounds. He looks completely different, not as fragile.

The package he carried held cookies he and the Keelhauler had made for me, and a mix CD made by the Keelhauler. I send presents out to the boat every week, but this is the first time in two years he's sent anything back. To be fair, there's not a lot he could send, but now he's got an iPod, and a lot of blank CDs and free time.

I put the CD in when I got in the car, and listened to it as I drove around town. Edith Piaf, Townes Van Zandt, Curtis Mayfield, Bob Dylan singing "Isis," and Elvis Costello's "The Angels Want to Wear My Red Shoes," which was a good choice, because it is one of the songs at which I excel at singing harmony to in the car. Another is "That's Just What You Are," by Aimee Mann. Should her backup singers ever fail her during a live performance at which I am present, I could step in and finish their work. I practice singing on the way to work, to keep my voice agile, in case I am ever called upon to play backup singer.

Later, on the way home, I drove along the coastline where the swell is rolling in in high, curling waves, sending spray up over the breakwater and onto the highway. I drove south, watching the surfers, thinking "At Rincon, they're walking the nose," thinking that the surfers I see never seem to embody the cheery beach-party vibe of the Beach Boys. They seem determined and intense, and today the sky was hazy, further negating the idea of southern California warmth.

Instead of going home, I went to Nordstrom, my favorite waste of time. The Keelhauler caught up with me by phone in the shoe aisle and asked what I was doing. On the surface, I guess, I was looking for shoes to replace the black pumps I decided today that I hated. I have had them for almost five years, and I've never liked them, they are totally unflattering, but for some reason I've kept them. I talked to the Keelhauler as I walked the shoe aisles. It's one of my favorite things to do--walk around in stores on the phone. It's like shopping, but without spending any money or making any decisions. Plus, the person on the phone can act as advisor, but still remain powerless to prevent me from buying something I really shouldn't have. Like the high, metallic lime green boots I considered. They were truly hideous, but I gasped, because upon calculating the mark-downs, I realized they cost only fifteen dollars. "Put them back..." the Keelhauler said, and then over my justifications, said "You have to start buying shoes not based on how they LOOK, but what they are FOR. We live on a small BOAT." It's like he was speaking Egyptian to me. I had trouble comprehending the concept of buying shoes based on their function. (There are exceptions, and I realize it is an unpleasant female stereotype, but I buy shoes based solely on how they look, and work from there.)

Despite an hour of searching, I didn't find a suitable replacement for the black pumps. I did, however, find a totally unnecessary and hence highly desirable pair of very high, calf-height Italian leather boots that lace with a ribbon on one side, but not in a Jessica Simpson/slutty-biker way. They're sleek and elegant, and a peculiar, subtle shade of red that exactly matches the expensive handbag my aunt gave me for my birthday, and which I've never used. ("Believe me, you would NOT be getting this if it hadn't been on sale," she told me as I opened the present at my birthday party.)

I bought the boots and a pair of very high black pumps that because of their height are not a suitable replacement for my old serviceable ones, and a black dress that I'm sure will be deeply unflattering, and four pairs of fishnet stockings in different shades of "neutral," and a little present for Lorelei, whose birthday is on Sunday.

I visited two more stores, and realized it was time to go home when I started pricing matelasse' blankets and damask tablecloths, things I have no conceivable need for, but which I admired because of their beautiful colors and their substance.

I say I want to live more simply, to divest myself of possessions, but when I encounter luxury or beauty, I want to soak myself in it and drink in the color. On some deep level, I need red boots, gold, and the world's biggest necklace. I don't need to own it all, I just need to see it, to examine beautiful things, and to know they exist somewhere, even out of reach.

Star of the day. . .Isis