Oh No Dey Ditn't!

This afternoon I settled in with Mitchell Pancake for one of our famous couch naps. Before finally falling asleep, I was flipping channels between Hardball and Mystic Pizza and Gilmore Girls, showing my true ADD self before the quick onset of my narcolepsy.

(During my glory days at JMU, one of my roommates, Paxton--also Paxton, creator of incredible Halloween decor--was narcoleptic. I know that technically narcolepsy isn't contagious, but I'm pretty sure that I caught it from him.)

Anyway, back to this afternoon.

Forgive me if I'm behind the times a bit on this one; we never watch commercials because we've spoiled ourselves with DVR, the greatest invention of the century. But today I was too lazy even to reach for the remote, so I suffered through the commercials. Not only will I now have the "Free Credit Report Dot Com" commercial in my head for the next two months, but I caught something that I found truly shocking.

WATCH THIS COMMERCIAL FOR THE SCHICK QUATTRO TRIM RAZOR. WATCH IT NOW.

I had to rewind it to make sure that I was actually seeing what I thought I was seeing, and then I called Matt into the room to watch it, too (and probably to bring me a glass of water and a cupcake and a pillow--I'm really needy when it's naptime). His response: "Oh No Dey Ditn't."

A few minutes later, I was asleep. I woke up almost two hours later to the smell of the dinner Matt was preparing, and he brought me a bowl of spaghetti and meatballs. I then proceeded to eat them, still on the couch, still lying down.

I love my life.

A shoe search only reveals creepy baby dolls.

This month's issue of Real Simple features this photo of these shoes, and I cannot stop thinking about them. I want these to be the shoes that provide the evil teacher click, click, click as I walk around my classroom next school year. I even had a dream that I found them and wore them to school.

I've been looking all over the interwebs and the inside of the magazine to see who makes the shoes and where I might be able to buy them. (Truth be told, they're probably far too expensive and uncomfortable to make my shoe dream come true, but I WANT them. My desire for these shoes is a perfect example of a need vs. a want, and I'm not sure I'd have a husband anymore if I spent a small fortune on shoes I'd never wear.)

Refusing to listen to common sense, I continue to search for the designer of these shoes. I googled the photographer's name, Burcu Avsar, but it was a bit of a dead end. Only a bit, though, because I came across a really interesting project of hers where she photographs old toys. Avsar's beautiful explanation of the project will do little to keep me from having bad dreams about this creepfest below, probably because of my history with baby dolls.

Wow, are baby dolls creepy!

Back in college, my roommates and I would throw huge Halloween parties. My roommate Paxton would begin decorating the house about a month in advance. The decorations were always fantastic, and Paxton was definitely a details kind of guy. He constructed a tree from branches that he'd dragged home, he carved intricate details in pumpkins, he found beer pong ping pong balls that looked like eyeballs. The decorations were just incredible, but our least expensive decorations ended up being the scariest.

Paxton and I went to a thrift store and spent about $3 on old gross baby dolls. We took them home, tore them apart, threw on some fake blood, duct tape, and thumbtacks. Then we hung the dolls and doll limbs and doll heads from the ceiling.

Of all of the frightening decorations--even the fog machine in the grate that would hiss every few minutes and look amazing--those creepy babies were the most memorable. I can't look at Avsar's gorgeous pictures of old toys without having vivid memories of the baby doll whose mouth was duct taped, who later became our Christmas tree topper. That same baby doll did come to life and murder one of our roommates, which may further explain why I find baby dolls a bit on the scary side.

Oh, and if you can find out where I can find those pretty pretty turquoise shoes you win in life.