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Right, so, I had a couple thousand books. I think that probably for a span of seven years or so, I bought two or three books a week from the used bookstore and never threw one away because, you know. Books! Reading! Rereading! As everyone who knows me understands, I loved them. A lot.
In preparation for moving, I cut it down. Like, I threw away and gave away and packed away almost all of them. I brought about 500, 600 with me to this new apartment. These are the books I love the most, although many have questioned my taste on some of them. ;-) These are my Douglas Adams and Chuck Palahniuk and Kurt Vonnegut and Peter S Beagle. These are my my CS Lewis, Susan Cooper, SJ Rozan, Dennis Lehane, Dean Koontz, Steven King, some Ayn Rand and then a random mix of other good books. Also, every book by Nora Roberts because dammit, I like romance novels. And her alter-ego JD Robb too. And others because dude, romance novels! Good entertainment, hey, don't knock 'em.
Anyway, I love these books.
My landlady came in this morning to touch up paint and I was telling her about how I'd brought in the last box of books and finally felt moved in, even though I still have stuff coming. Tonight she says to me, "My husband and I were talking about your books. We'd like you to cut it down to a hundred."
I'm like, "what?"
"One hundred books," she says. "Because this house is old and we have a problem with sagging floors. We don't allow waterbeds either."
Lots of places don't allow waterbeds. Waterbeds are monstrous heavy and leaky and completely stationary and they can be a hassle. But two bookcases? With about 600 books? Causing the kind of damage that a waterbed might cause? I don't think so.
I didn't say anything. I really kind of couldn't. And so she said, "Well, you think about it, I know I kind of sprung that on you."
Well, yeah. Yeah, I would say so.
One hundred books! Trying to cut down from the number that I have right now would be like trying to cut off my arm. This is, I think, an unfair thing to ask of me and I refuse to do it. It said nothing in my rental agreement about what I could or could not own in my apartment, excluding the waterbed, and I can't even. No. No no no no no.
*throws a temper tantrum like a five year old*
..........
OK. OK, out of a sense of compromise, I am going to see if I can go through and refill one box of books that can go live at my mother's house until I can have them again. But in no way, shape or form am I even attempting to cut down that far. And if she asks again, I will tell her that I find the restriction unacceptable. I will move out before I will limit myself to one hundred books.
My mother thinks that the level of upset I'm feeling over this is unreasonable. Other friends are like, what on earth are you so mad about, it's just books. But it isn't just books--it's the idea that now she's going to ask something like this of me. What next, get rid of some of your videocasettes? And hey, while you're at it, that computer desk looks pretty heavy. And so does the hutch with all your dishes, you might want to cut down on those too--
OK, so it's mostly the books.
Am I being unreasonable? I've never rented an apartment on my own before and it's been years since I lived in one at all. I need advice. Someone, anyone with more experience, let me know if this request of hers is as unfair as I feel it is.
Or, you know, just rant with me about people who are obviously insane!
In preparation for moving, I cut it down. Like, I threw away and gave away and packed away almost all of them. I brought about 500, 600 with me to this new apartment. These are the books I love the most, although many have questioned my taste on some of them. ;-) These are my Douglas Adams and Chuck Palahniuk and Kurt Vonnegut and Peter S Beagle. These are my my CS Lewis, Susan Cooper, SJ Rozan, Dennis Lehane, Dean Koontz, Steven King, some Ayn Rand and then a random mix of other good books. Also, every book by Nora Roberts because dammit, I like romance novels. And her alter-ego JD Robb too. And others because dude, romance novels! Good entertainment, hey, don't knock 'em.
Anyway, I love these books.
My landlady came in this morning to touch up paint and I was telling her about how I'd brought in the last box of books and finally felt moved in, even though I still have stuff coming. Tonight she says to me, "My husband and I were talking about your books. We'd like you to cut it down to a hundred."
I'm like, "what?"
"One hundred books," she says. "Because this house is old and we have a problem with sagging floors. We don't allow waterbeds either."
Lots of places don't allow waterbeds. Waterbeds are monstrous heavy and leaky and completely stationary and they can be a hassle. But two bookcases? With about 600 books? Causing the kind of damage that a waterbed might cause? I don't think so.
I didn't say anything. I really kind of couldn't. And so she said, "Well, you think about it, I know I kind of sprung that on you."
Well, yeah. Yeah, I would say so.
One hundred books! Trying to cut down from the number that I have right now would be like trying to cut off my arm. This is, I think, an unfair thing to ask of me and I refuse to do it. It said nothing in my rental agreement about what I could or could not own in my apartment, excluding the waterbed, and I can't even. No. No no no no no.
*throws a temper tantrum like a five year old*
..........
OK. OK, out of a sense of compromise, I am going to see if I can go through and refill one box of books that can go live at my mother's house until I can have them again. But in no way, shape or form am I even attempting to cut down that far. And if she asks again, I will tell her that I find the restriction unacceptable. I will move out before I will limit myself to one hundred books.
My mother thinks that the level of upset I'm feeling over this is unreasonable. Other friends are like, what on earth are you so mad about, it's just books. But it isn't just books--it's the idea that now she's going to ask something like this of me. What next, get rid of some of your videocasettes? And hey, while you're at it, that computer desk looks pretty heavy. And so does the hutch with all your dishes, you might want to cut down on those too--
OK, so it's mostly the books.
Am I being unreasonable? I've never rented an apartment on my own before and it's been years since I lived in one at all. I need advice. Someone, anyone with more experience, let me know if this request of hers is as unfair as I feel it is.
Or, you know, just rant with me about people who are obviously insane!
no subject
At any rate, if I were you, I wouldn't do a damn thing about the books. If she mentioned it again, I'd ask her to put the request and the reason for the request in writing. And then I'd use it to sue her pants off.
If nothing else, that would alert her that you are not a tenant to be fucked with -- and that's something many landlords need to know. If you give in on this, who knows what she'll want you to give in on next week?
(Ok, just because I'm still mad -- even if you *do* decide to comply with her request, insist that she put the request and the reason for the request in writing. Tell her you don't feel comfortable doing it without a clear record of what you're doing and why. Then, if you ever need it in the future, you have it.)
no subject
Merry, excellent. I did just go through and box up a couple dozen of books to go to my mother's--she agreed to act as 'library'--but I was fuming mad the whole time I did it. Your suggestion makes a lot of sense to me.
Also, I will delight in asking her to put it in writing. Typically, I'm like. Well, OK, so I'm the girl who gives in and does everything asked of her, but I don't want to set up a bad situation here. Asking her to put it in writing and then bringing the big (half-empty *G*) box of books out to my car would kind of. Hmm. Let her know that a) I'm willing to work with her but b) not to the point of utter ridiculousness.
Thanks! :)