because “you’ll die alone, and your cats will eat your body” is so last-decade misogyny

i just read about this nonsense over at bitch. at first i was like, "oh, maybe it's just the counterpoint to all that fairy tale, waiting for *The One* bs that we indulge in sometimes", but oh no. it's actual garbage. and, apparently, one superficial idea deep. bleh.

Hmm, this sounds like a pretty eco-friendly way to go. Except for the plastic in the unreturned Netflix DVDs, they'll take ages to decompose.

You gotta wonder about the people that write this stuff. Are they just doing it for a paycheck, or is there some really sad story behind them? Probably a bit of both.

Yes ladies, you too can commit yourself to another human being that you merely tolerate for the rest of your life just to avoid the horror of being your own company. That's cool. More netflix (and cats/dogs) for me!

Some days, when the kids are screaming and the hubby's out of commission from having another allergic reaction to something and the house is an irredeemable mess, being alone in a one-room apartment with a Netflix subscription sounds like utter paradise. Even if all of those conditions are not met, I can't see anything wrong with the single scenario--I sincerely enjoyed my single life (with a one-bedroom apartment but pre-Netflix) and would have been fine continuing that way.

Is it weird that I think providing a tasty snack for my pets is a pretty appealing idea for what to do with my body when I die?

Between the generally poor nutrition of our time and sedentary lifestyle we are talking about, the pets are more likely to be left with a feast than a snack.

For those of us who are allergic to pets, I guess we'll just have to decompose all on our own.

Or if you live in the Buffyverse, if you spend your life eating fast food, the cats will turn their nose up at your corpse because you smell like grease.

I'm with you, CB. Better than the poor things starving to death in the time it would take to find my body.

I'm happily married, but there are days when being single sounds a-okay to me. I'm already pretty independent in my marriage and set up pretty good boundaries, so as not to feel smothered. But still...all that unbridled freedom (well, to the point that finances allow, of course).

But if I were single I'd probably occasionally wish I were married. The grass is always greener, and all that.

Oh.My.God.
I'm 21 and I already pretty much just sit in my room and watch Netflix.
There's no hope for me nooooooooooooooooooooo!!!!!

*snOrt*

Odd coincidence: My daughter was just asking me about where I lived before I married Daddy, and I was telling her all about my pretty little studio apartment. It wasn't much, but it was only the second time I lived alone with no roommates - and I loved it.

I thoroughly enjoyed that time in my life. And moreover, I never thought of it as some kind of waystation or pause before I found the 'right guy' or 'a guy to settle for' or whatever. I was working, going to school at night, I had friends and a life, and I pretty much loved being single.

And this was before Netflix, yet somehow I still managed to enjoy my life as is. Go figure.

I'm pretty sure my ID makes me an organ donor if I'm DOA. Or at least my last one did.

As a happily single 22 year-old with a longtime Netflix subscription, I can't WAIT to read this book.

The best cats eatin' keeper story I've heard was an old dude in the Netherlands who cashed out. He had cats, and he'd leave a window open so they could come and go as the pleased. After he passed, the cats continued to come and go, and I guess when the kibble ran out, they started in on their benefactor. Knowing cats, they probably brought friends along.