The conference I am attending is very good. I am learning about the role of inflammation in mental illness (avoid such), how to read medical report statistics (tedious), and what is it about cannabis (avoid until you are 25 years old). So far I have not seen any Texans, just a lot of psychiatrists. However, my brain is full and my backside is sore; there will be no more lectures for this day.  After I publish this I am going to go bear-bait the pharmaceutical representatives in the exhibit hall, and then I am going to  walk on the River Walk.

One of the lecturers gave out the secret to the treatment for depression/anxiety, stress, pain, Life, The Universe, and Everything. It was just a quick insert at the end of the breakfast lecture. The panacea for all ills is worth a separate entry, so I will do it later. He told us to tell as many people as we could.

Gads, but I hate being alone in hotels. I wish Someone was here. Better yet, I wish I was home. Last night he went with some at-work chums to watch the Rocky Horror Show at the bar – jolly good fun. Tonight he hears Shostakovich #7 and I am mad-jealous. I’ve waited years to hear this symphony and its my dumb luck I am out of town. Despite me being in a brave new city I suspect I am turning in early this evening. I didn’t get enough sleep.  I fly all the way here and promptly fall asleep in lecture hall.


Last night’s sleep was ruined because of my reading. I am reading a non-fiction piece about a team of hikers who got lost in the Russian woods and when their bodies were discovered the campsite was quite a puzzle, a mystery never solved with satisfaction. The theories range from UFOs to the hikers going bezerk like “The Shining”.  It’s a page turner – and hardly conclusive for falling asleep alone in a dark strange room. Tonight I am going to reread today’s lecture notes on P-values and how to calculate The Number to Treat – I should be asleep in an instant.