From the Editor in Chief, U.S. ... and Publisher

Hello all,

So very sorry for the delay in posting. I was pretty busy with my real job yesterday and it forced me to push Chris Weekly to the back burner, which in turn forced many of you to take a sick day rather than commence the morning without CW. Know that I'd burn my hand on the proverbial back burner if I could. Were it not for your tireless dedication to this publication, there would be no CW to come back to, and we know it. Please don't hold this against our staff. We've been absolutely bursting at the seams here to tell you all about Chris's weekend, as we have a certifiably EXCLUSIVE scoop.

Avid CW readers know of Chris's love for Eamonn's fish and chips in Old Town ["Chris Endorses...," Sept. 4]. Apparently, there is a speakeasy on top of this place. And not just anyone can get in, ung-kay? We had seen a group of girls get turned away while dining one evening, which piqued our curiosity considerably. We went there for dinner on Friday night to celebrate Chris's return to the DC metro area with Two-time-Friend-of-Chris Nominee and October-Friend-of-Chris Runner-Up Tim H., and upon finishing up our cod and Guiness we decided to keep the party going at the speakeasy for a few more drinks. As Eamonn's loyalists, we figured our boy Ted could get us in no problem. We were right. And Chris tapped Chris Weekly to come along for the ride! This job definitely has its perks.

Once inside, we were led to a sitting area where the three of us proceeded to sit linear-style on a small trendy cream-colored couch, with me in the middle. The hostess who seated us presented a small ottoman for one of us to use instead but we said we were fine. A very intimate area; imagine someone having a very small cocktail party in an Old Town apartment. We relaxed and began to look at the drinks menu, a collection of fancy shmancy martinis and champagne cocktails, etc. Chris, to my right, goes to put his left arm around me and ends up resting his hand, complete with tender squeeze, on Tim's right shoulder. We all laugh hysterically. It's at this point that Tim notes he thinks the girls in front of us think the three of us are there...together. He says he thinks he heard one of them wonder how "the tall one" fits into this "arrangement." Then Tim orders us three swinger-sounding Sparkling Mojito champagne cocktails, just in case there was any doubt. Later the boys switched to the house grog, and I to a positively delectable Manhattan, and we proceeded to do what we always do in a party situation: talk trash about the others in the room and crack ourselves up. A fun time was had by all.

Chris's Saturday was a bit more laid back, as it involved The In-Laws. Yours truly had her parents come up for a "Kelly fix," a quick visit to tide them over until Thanksgiving. The amazing news here is that Chris didn't mind leaving the house, even with a day of college football ahead! In fact, he wanted to leave the house and grew increasingly irritable at the prospect of not going anywhere with my parents. Always an enigma, this one. We decided we'd take my parents to lunch at Hank's Oyster Bar, which, unlike Eamonn's, Chris does NOT recommend. It wasn't the worst seafood he's ever had, but he's had the best so it's hard to eat crabcakes that you might find in a cafeteria. Maybe that's harsh. Crabcakes you might find served as apps at the Marriott bar.

After lunch, we ventured into the city to kill time before our next feeding. We walked around, through some art sculptures [as you see me pictured up there] and ended up at the National Botanic Garden, which Chris has always wanted to visit. They have all the monuments of the city done in leaf and plant matter. I'll post his pics next. Dinner that evening at Maggiano's at Tyson's Corner, where Chris ordered the biggest bowl of spaghetti and meatballs known to man. And looked darn cute trying to make just a dent in it.

And there you have it! Chris's weekend at a glance.

Now without further ado...

[Find out what's coming without further ado after lunch!]