The Shea has made its migratory journey from Minnesota to Chicago, an event that only occurs once every four years or so. It’s shown here displaying its late Winter conference plumage.

Usually I think Jason’s mother has some useful wardrobe pointers for him: you know, don’t wear Sambas with dress pants, shave that thing off your chin, etc. But these shorts that she sent him… Jesus Christ. Geriatric golf attire if ever I’ve seen it.

Rachel and I decided it was once again time for a pilgrimage to Wisconsin, to indulge in cheese curds (super-squeaky) and sushi (much fresher than what we’ve found in Chicago). We took along another student in our department, Francis, who, despite being English, cannot hold his liquor, and has foolishly challenged me to a tequila-drinking competition. You’re on, Francis. I shall destroy you!

Francis post- Butter Burger

Francis and Rachel at an important, um, archive

Rachel on a caboose, which Francis learned is not just a euphemism for ass.

Getting inside the mind of the US military.

Frozen lake.

 
Bits of the Madison skyline.

Ludacris has hoes everywhere in the US I’ve lived.

Rachel has made what is quite possibly the Geekiest Cake in the World. The cake qualifies for the title on at least three levels:
1. The cake was for Marcie’s birthday, and Marcie requested a cube-shaped cake because she’s turning 27, and 27 is a perfect cube.

2. The final product was decorated to look like the Borg ship in Star Trek.

3. Rachel stamped the Borg pattern onto the fondant using Legos.

It was delicious.