Smell my feet

It's a good thing Halloween is over because the jack-o-lantern is getting moldy and smelly, not to mention the fact that his head is caving in and he could use some dentures.

We actually had trick-or-treaters tonight, but we were caught unprepared and had to give the poor kids peppermints. When those were gone, we had to tell kids we didn't have any candy. Then we just stopped answering the door. But then I felt all guilty for not giving out candy, since we're the only people in the complex with decorations up. So we went to Target and brought a bag of Kit Kats home, and then not a single kid knocked on our door for the rest of the night.

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We spent the day trolling Midtown, looking for apartments for rent. I jotted down several phone numbers and toured a Midtown Place unit, which is right across from Overton Park on Poplar. It's an older building, which means it's got window units and radiators instead of central heat and air, and gas instead of an electric stove. It also means it has a small sunroom, hardwood floors, 10-foot ceilings, and real wood doors — the kind you can slam to make a point. I'm so caught between wanting the charm of an older building and the convenience of updated appliances and whatnot. But I doubt I could convince myself to pay $600 a month for a place with a ghetto-fied kitchen and no washer/dryer hookups, regardless of how damn cute the little built-in china nook is. So the search continues.