Vacation day. I got up early to go to the flea market in Capitola where I found many treasures, mostly photos and ephemera. At Bookshop Santa Cruz they were getting ready for a Harry Potter party at midnight. I asked the clerk if it was fun for them or mostly a pain in the ass, and she said the latter. Against my better judgment I went into the shoe store and looked at the Tsubo Xeric shoes I like, and the guy commented that they've been discontinued, but he thought he had a 9. Of course I asked to see it, but he was wrong, he only had an 8. Now I desperately want them.

On to Kiva. The guy I used to talk to on Saturdays was there with a woman, and I didn't recognize him till I heard his voice because he has short hair now. She was telling him all about her detoxifying program. I was reading a biography of Roald Dahl. I've read his short stories but none of his childrens' books. He apparently was an asshole, which isn't surprising judging from the short stories.

It was quiet and perfect. Except that I became obsessed by thoughts of something I passed up at the flea because it was so expensive, a photo of some Shriners in a parade. Now I feel I should have paid any price for it.

We went out for Chinese food and I again failed at my new program of trying to pick at food and eat tiny portions.