First of all, I gotta say that the New VR not airing the new episode of Angel threw off my entire rhythm for the week — and yes, that’s just as pathetic as it sounds. I’ve officially committed myself to yet another TV show, DVDs and all, God help me, Jesus Christ bananas.

Another thrilling weekend. Actually, Ian-patented sarcasm aside, I did have a good time Saturday night. My good friend Jake was in from out of town, and we met up with a number of interesting and colorful science-fiction fans at The Fox and Firkin in my trendy neighborhood that is Young and Eligible.

Alcohol was drunk, pictures were taken, and I, your humble narrator, had to leave at the early hour of 8pm because of my new gig at CFRB. (If you’re at all curious, I spoke about the film Dreamcatcher, and made a few astute comments on flaming cats misinterpreted as UFOs and a fellow in Washington D.C. who is apparently sitting on a great deal of supposedly spectacular UFO film footage. Yah-huh.)

I returned to the pub on my way home, and came upon a table of attractive young women — attractive not just in appearance but also in mind: most of them were editors and writers. Suffice to say I felt a little bit like George Constanza in that episode where he discovers a “forbidden city” of supermodels. Fortunately, these ladies had a lot more to talk about than those catwalk-strutting heroin chics. Also, it turns out one of these ladies has actually been to my site … yeah, I’m surprised, too. She’s even been keeping up with Tangents, where I’m at my most blog-whiniest. A brave one she must be.

So, not a bad night, all things considered. And I get to update the site with yet more of my adventures in the publishing world … or as I call it, The Forbidden City of Science-Fiction-Loving Female Editors.

Sounds like an Alan Quatermain movie.

Ian