SMS, by the way, stands for Systems Management Server. No, you don't need to know any more. I don't need to know any more, but I seem to be taking a class about it through the rest of this week. No complaints, but I live in a small city fifteen minutes from downtown San Francisco (at the end of the rainbow) and I'm taking a class on managing an SMS server which, in a certain light, is very fucking weird. Or is this thought like the thought about getting blown up in a tunnel, both of them weird or just one of them weird? And if so, which one?

Otherwise a good day. I brought along the digital and shot some not very good pictures. A short walk during lunch, a couple of shots that turned out badly, but the mind went through its paces thinking, well, you should have done this or you should have done that. I have four more days to go, plenty of time to get my act together and shoot something better. My hole in the wall Chinese cafe (I like hole in the wall cafe's, by the way, although I suspect "cafe" isn't quite the right terminology.) was filled with whomever it is who frequents cheap city cafes. I sat at a table next to two San Francisco policemen eating almond chicken. Hmmm. Almond chicken over rice for breakfast. I'll try it tomorrow. Good for the cameras, by the way, the presence of policemen, what with the number of heavily armed rip off artists who hang in hole in the wall downtown cafes these days in San Francisco.