Red Hot

Last night my sister came into my room and was all, "The basketball game is sooo good!" and I was all, "Excuse me but I am trying to catch up on 'Glee' and since when do you care about basketball?" And she kind of "Humpfed" and stomped out of my room, walked two feet through our "kitchenette" and slammed her door. Typical Thursday night in the Bueller household. Except now I kind of wish I was watching the game with her, because apparently Flea, who I've had a crush on since I was wearing flannel and black Converse (which could have been yesterday, come to think of it), was there. And he is still all kinds of awesome, if not additional kinds of awesome as evidenced per the photo above (courtesy of gawker.com courtesy of Getty).

Sparkle

I am obsessed with Tom Binns jewelry and would channel Binns head-to-toe on a regular basis if I could, so when I heard the bad-a$$ Irishman had collaborated with clothing designer John Eshaya on a collection of t-shirts I was like, heyyy! My tees just arrived (one of them being the above design, the other a skull version) and I plan on living in them all summer, black bra strap peeking out from beneath.

Black Diamond

I'm not exactly the most traditional girl. I have a hard time behaving per the world's view of what it is to behave. When I am forced to go to church I spend the majority of my time there suppressing an overwhelming urge to use inappropriate language at a very high decible level. In museums, I really, really want to touch things. Engagement rings creep me out. What can I say? My mind just doesn't march in place and beg for gold stars. It kind of scampers around pulling chairs out from underneath people and trying to get away with crap. For example, I was sitting around with some old friends at a baby shower recently and my friend MF told this story about a birthday party she'd been to the night before. Apparently the girl threw it as a surprise for her longtime boyfriend and at the end of the evening the boyfriend got up in front of everyone at the bar to thank her. "And what do you think happened?" MF asked a small group of us, her eyes aglow. There was a brief silence and our friend JF blurted, "He threw up!" I immediately agreed that this was a probable scenario, nodded my head and offered another guess, "His pants fell down?" I was convinced I was at least inching closer to the correct answer, but MF just looked at us, shook her head and said, "He proposed."