Weekend.

This past weekend was like wearing your mom's pearls or slapping on heels for no reason: Keith and I spent it downtown, playing grown up. 

After a Friday night of shopping (I, Kristin N. Rotondo, visited Urban and only bought two pairs of sandals!), we woke up Saturday and hopped on the train, checked in to floor number 25 of the Sheraton, and got dressed up all fancy-like for dinner at Ruth's Chris. We ate too much and were asleep before eleven (told you we played grown-up). He'll probably write a much more detailed account of the weekend. It all seems like one fancily-clad blur to me.

And now I've got to go find a green shirt.