Posts tagged lease

Clean up and abandonment



This is a story that began one-and-a-half years ago. I chose today’s topic because of what I’m wearing.

You may remember The Rent is Too Damn High party. If you’ve read any of my previous posts, you understand why I identified with name of the party, if not its champion, Jimmy McMillan’s, ideology.

One of my favorite websites,, offered a T-shirt that was made for me. I bought it in the midst of my house hunt, and swore to wear it on the day I left my apartment for good.

I wore the T-shirt on the day I finally turned over the keys on an apartment I had lived in for eight years.

You may note I’m wearing a winter coat in that photo. It was New Year’s Eve 2010. I took that photo inside my new house, already anticipating this particular blog post.

temp and time

It was a cold and snowy winter.

new blinds

I even replaced the blinds in my bedroom with new ones from Walmart. They cost less than $10. The originals were extremely dusty.

I spent quite a bit of time cleaning my apartment. I was so worried they wouldn’t give me my full deposit because something was dirty.

I had felt so taken advantage of by Goldmark that I didn’t want to give them any reason to keep any of my money. I cleaned every square inch, including the walls.

I hired my own carpet cleaner because they were going to take $100 out of my deposit to hire one for me. I vowed to find a carpet cleaner for cheaper than that.

Remember the note I posted in this post?

On the Spot Carpet Cleaning actually cleaned my carpets for less than they had quoted because my carpets were so clean to begin with. I believe I paid $60. Read the rest of this entry »


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Realizing the rules have changed

First, I need to set the scene. I’m wearing a cardigan with multi-colored stripes. So multi-colored that I will only name three: olive green, salmon and sky blue. And I’m wearing a long jean skirt with sandals.

It is raining outside, so I’m carrying an umbrella. It’s the umbrella I got free from Vogue when I signed up for a subscription. It is a pretty royal blue-red-cream plaid pattern. While quite chic, it does not match my outfit.

I feel I look pretty clownish. Not a big deal, but worth noting.

It is September 2nd. I realize I’ve forgotten to pay my rent. Luckily, I have until noon on the 2nd day of the month to get my rent check in. I leave work early for lunch.

In some careful maneuvering, I get out of my car, jean skirt, umbrella, sandals and all, and walk up to the rent drop-off. I see a sign that says, “Your rent is now late. Please add $40 to your check. Thanks!”

I know this isn’t true because it’s only about 11:40 a.m. I figure they put the sign out early, and head inside to state my case.

“The sign says my rent is late, but it’s not because I have until noon on the 2nd day of the month,” I say.

The girl behind the desk says, “What?”

“My rent isn’t late yet.”

“You have to pay it on the first,” she says.

“No, the sign on the wall says I have until noon on the second.”

“What sign?” says girl in the next room, but with a major glassless window-like opening.

“The sign on the wall says we have until noon on the second of the month. It’s the second, and it’s not noon,” I plead. Then I realize. It was probably a year ago since I saw that sign. The rules have changed.

“Per your lease, rent is due on the first of the month. It’s the same for everybody,” next room girl says.

I am just livid. I don’t have my lease with me at that moment. My rent check is already written out. My purse is in my car. It’s raining outside. My umbrella is perched on my shoulder, surely framing my face like a halo.

Here’s what’s going through my head, “If I swear at them right now, if I really go off, can they call the police? Could they get me for harrassment? What if I just don’t pay the $40? What if I refuse to pay? What would happen?”

I take my check, and slam it down on the desk. “I am so…” and muffle the rest, as I turn. (It was going to be ‘flipping peed off,’ for the curious.)

As I open the door, girl in the next room sings out, “Have a nice day!” Smiley face, smiley face.

That’s when my umbrella gets caught in the door. I keep walking forward in the rain, refusing to turn around, as my arm reaches back over my shoulder, my umbrella holding me back. I shake it free, in grand form.

In discussing with friends later, I told them I now realize how Steven Slater-like incidents happen.

They change the rules, and don’t put up a new sign. How is that okay?

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Waiting to leap

Today at 5:00 p.m. would be my deadline. For me to be out of this apartment at the end of my six-month lease, I would have had to give my 60-day notice today.

Now, let’s be serious. A 60-day notice is just ridiculous. They require it because they know it’s nearly impossible. You’ll just be forced to pay for an extra month in many cases. So, if I’m able to give my 60-day notice at the end of September, that would mean I’ll be out of here at the end of November, and will have to pay an extra $75 during that month. It’s robbery.

However, the good news is that I’ve been pre-qualified for a home loan, and I’ve been looking at houses. It’s been quite up-and-down emotions-wise these past couple weeks. I’m about ready to jump on the first house I like. I darn near put an offer on a house yesterday, but I have to admit I’m glad some well-meaning loved ones put some sense in my head. To pay an extra $75 in November will have been worth it if I find a house that’s just right.

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Keeping busy

I’ve been keeping myself busy lately. Purposely trying not to dwell on the fact that I’m still living in an apartment. At the end of April, I signed another six-month lease.

I did this with purpose. If it looks like I’ll be moving into a house close to the end of this six months, great. If not, it forces me to find a house. I refuse to live here much longer than another six months.

So, back to me being busy. I’ve been working out and eating right, with help from a new-to-me blog/Ning Network.

As we all know, it’s harder than it would seem. I lost nine pounds. Then I went on vacation to Daytona Beach, FL, for four days. I walked a lot, ate great fresh seafood. I came home having gained back four pounds.

It had taken me more than a month to lose those four pounds, so I’ve become quite bitter. I’m trying to get back to my good habits, but sheesh… Why work so hard when it can all be undone so quickly? I realize I’m just being a crabby loser right now, but sometimes that’s just how you have to be before you become better again.

Since I’ve been home, I started following Julia Child recipes from “Mastering the Art of French Cooking.” This probably hasn’t helped my exercise and healthful eating situation, but it has helping my well-being situation. It’s great fun to follow these recipes. I tape myself cooking and post about it on Facebook for my friends. My mom in particular loves this.

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New neighbor?

It seems at least one of my neighbors next door has moved out.

His replacement? A toddler.

The little one pounds on the wall… but it’s not nearly as annoying.

There are still remnants next door that tell me at least one part of the former crew is still over there, including a dining room chair that sits on the balcony.

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Calling the manager vs. calling the cops

I hate calling the cops.

One reason — though not the most important reason — is that it’s hard not to feel like a nag and a tattletale. Even though police will always tell you to call them rather than take matters into your own hands, they still sound annoyed when you call with a noise complaint.

The bigger reason is that the cops often don’t catch the perps in the act. Either the police pull up to the front of the building and all the loud underage drinkers scatter, or the police knock on their door and nobody answers.

My next door neighbors are not as bad as the previous ones. Instead of standing on their balcony and yelling at cars in the street, the new neighbors’ noise is a constant drone. For two weeks now, they’ve had people over every single night. Some nights, it’s probably an extra three to five people. Some nights, it’s as many at 20 people. They don’t even play loud music late at night. But I can hear all of them talking at the same time even in my bedroom. Sometimes they’ll go out on their balcony — where I can hear them even better — and continue to talk at the same time. Plus, I think they wrestle.

So how do you call the cops when what you’re hearing is a constant annoying not-really-white-noise noise? The cops will show up and be annoyed. So I called the apartment manager this week and left a message. I told them that my neighbors have people over every single night. Just before I called, one of them either fell to the floor or against the wall so hard that it shook stuff in my apartment. I reminded the apartment managers that the lease says “no parties.”

The night after I called, my neighbors had another party. Either they weren’t warned by the managers, or they just didn’t care.

These kids are in college. I did the same thing back then. But nowadays I work at 8:00 a.m., Monday through Friday. I can’t put up with this crap.

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Answer the question

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