There were feathers all over the bathroom floor.

There's nothing quite like ditching out on a group of adorable and impressionable Sunday school kids to hang out with a bunch of overgrown geeks in costumes, but that's exactly what I did today. I went to WonderCon, in San Francisco, to hear Jane Espenson in a panel discussion on gender in genre, aka How Women Are Portrayed in Sci-Fi and Comics. The panel itself was all fairly standard, I thought--why do comic-book women have huge boobs and tiny waists, and are strong female characters just women who act like men?--but Jane herself was thoughtful and charmingly self-deprecating, as expected. Her hair is also longer than I thought, and her glasses are very much like mine (See? BFF! I knew it!). I went and talked to her a bit afterwards; generally I avoid people I admire, because I hate that I might be lumped in with the needy and inarticulate masses (this despite my obvious fangirl tendencies and the fact that I use the word(?) "squee" as a noun, a verb, and an interjection), but I really wanted to say hi, and anyway, she'd said in her last post to stop by. So I did. I talked to Jane Espenson face to face! Sadly, she did not take me aside and say, "Wow, I really like your glasses. Don't you think you should be in a writers' room somewhere in LA? Here, let me introduce you." But, you know, baby steps.

Afterward I went to the ginormous ballroom to watch the preview session for Drive, the new Tim Minear/Nathan Fillion show on FOX--basically a scripted Amazing Race on crack, as it turns out. Nathan Fillion was actually there, up on stage; he is, in fact, a hunky chunk of of a man, though he also comes across as a bit of an ass. Or possibly high. It was hard to say. The show looks interesting--not what you'd call highbrow, exactly, but it has undeniable potential for action, suspense, and possible character development. It doesn't premiere until April, but I'm in, tentatively.

And...that was it. The good programming was over by midafternoon, and the miles of comic-book booths in the exhibitors' hall didn't do it for me, so I left, stopped for crack a Beard Papa chocolate cream puff across the street, and hopped the train back to the East Bay before dinner. No sweat. Now....sleep, then Monday. Hmmph.