G.O.A.T.

OK killahs. The Head has returned.
Thanks to The Ash-hole, Girl Friday, and Isabella for posting in my absence.
Isabella, you are a mutinous dog. I am considering your punishment as we speak. There is a contingent in my head that is saying you weren't yourself, and your little rant did serve to entrench my peeps in my camp. Perhaps you are a bigger ally of The Head than I realize.
On to business.
Whew! Loooooong trip. Lady Head and I got in on Friday at about 10:30am. On our plane was Mr. Canadian and a new playa to the Headosphere: The Man Without a Country (seriously, triple citizenship - USA, Ireland, and Canada - you belong nowhere!). Well we dropped off our bags and went to this charming little pub. It was cute, the other two gents thought they were all naughty ordering beers before noon. Then The Head started on The Macallan. Kind of emasculating for them I think. After several we parted and Lady Head, MWAC, and I went to our hotel bar where we met our bartender for the week, Sandy. We had some Woodford Reserve and went and watched PPV movies.
Then we were off to dinner at Ruth's Chris. I was feeling shitty until I had a couple of martinis. Then I felt wonderful.
Sat. we went to a Brazilian BBQ place. For those of you who haven't been to one it's heaven. All you can eat. 14 different kinds of meat. They just bring them to your tables on the skewers.
Then we went to the meeting for a little while. Overall, every meeting just reminds me of how much I hate most neuroscientists. Ugh.
That night we stopped into the hotel bar, met up with a gaggle of people we knew. Then we left to meet The Dean and Hot Rod Kane at this other bar. We had some drinks and returned to the hotel bar where we all got wrecked. More martinis.
Sunday, meeting followed by martinis.
Well you get the idea. I presented two studies. The one that I thought was lame got an incredible response. Very enthusiastic. The one that I thought was the good one got merely a good response. Weird.
I'm so wonderful.
The last night it was just The Dean and I so we went out for lobster and martinis.

Overall it was a good meeting. I made some good contacts and potentially started some new collaborations. But man, I coudn't even look at another martini or even olive for at least 2 weeks. As The Ash-hole can attest, after meetings you feel like an arthritic old man. It's breaktime for The Head.

Oh - I almost forgot - I'm adding another event to the short list of things you should actually feel shame about after a drunken night. Pawing or hitting on someone else's wife or girlfriend. Scientists can't hold their liquor.