My pants smell like sulfur. Grr. As I may have mentioned, I'm assistant-teaching some kids' summer camp classes over at Hockaday for the week. One is a model rocketry class and the other is a LEGO CAD thing. The kids built rocket cars today and I got to play ballast on our takeoff stand thing. As a result, fountains of sparks and reeking, sulfurous smoke rained onto my shoes and jean-encrusted lower legs a total of 18 times, twice per group. Ain't life grand? Nasty stuff. My work in the CAD class consisted of fighting over the soldering iron with Ooshma, Megan, and Justin as we worked to assemble a rather complicated circuit board thing whose purpose I still don't understand. Fun, though. The kids aren't too aggravating. One Hermionesque, must-answer-all-the-questions-even-if-it-means-jumping-out-of-my-chair-every-thirty-seconds-and-making-OOOOH!!!-OOOOOHHHH!!!!-noises kid in the CAD class I have privately nicknamed Vincent, after the similarly behaved student in "Thief of Time". Hey, it amused me, at least.

Whee.

I watched a "100 Years of Romantic Movies" tribute this evening with my mom. Strange, as they had several clips from "Moulin Rouge" in the intro, but it was nowhere in their Top 100 list. Of course, they also had a snip from "Return of the Jedi", so I'll silence myself. I was happy to see "The Princess Bride" among the rankings. Tra la.