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The Single Woman’s Apartment

Gawker has the list.

Sadly, my apartment does not match up — I don’t have stacks of magazines or Nair or self-help books or stuffed animals or cat hair. In fact, the only things on the list that can be found in my apartment are scented candles and “anything pink” — but that’s only because I have a set of pink sheets which used to be white, until I accidentally washed them with my red sheets. The commenters are a little more accurate when it comes to objets d’ Single Girl:

-Giant box of tampons in plain view? Check.
-Ceiling lights that don’t work merely because the bulb burned out? Check.
-The ever-present laptop on the coffee table? Check.
-Your vibrator on your bed because, face it, nobody’s coming over? Check.
-Lots of wine? Check.
-More hair products in the bathroom than food in the refrigerator? Check.
-Anything you’ve worn goes on the floor until it goes in the washing machine? Check.
-Empty bottles of beer and wine everywhere? Check.
-Dozens of handbags and pairs of shoes? Check.
-Make-up all over the kitchen table, along with at least five empty water glasses? Check.
-Stilettos strewn across the living room floor and a bra slung over a chair? Check.

What’s in your apartment?


52 thoughts on The Single Woman’s Apartment

  1. yeah, well- I’m glad that Vanessa just upped me. I’m sure that my boyfriend (I live with him) is not too impressed that I can totally match this list.

  2. I also think that the original article is hyper-heteronormative and assumes a level of femininity that I’ve never catered too.
    Like the idea that you’d need to hide shoppingmags because
    A: You clearly read them and
    B: MALES CANNOT KNOW!
    Ditto on the bizarre concept that no man can ever, ever see your bra unless it’s on you or just coming off, and that period products must be hidden in a safe away from all human contact. Or that only single women like/have cats. Or pink things. Or ‘lite’ foods.

    As to heteronormative: Since the assumption is that this stuff is around because it’s girl stuff that guys shouldn’t be subject to, wouldn’t much of it still be around in a women-only relationship?

  3. Set of pink sheets which used to be white, until I accidentally washed them with my red sheets. Check.
    Slovenly heaps of little-used makeups in the bathroom. Check.
    Ceiling lights that don’t work merely because the bulb burned out? Check.
    The ever-present laptop on the coffee table? Check.
    Anything you’ve worn goes on the floor until it goes in the washing machine? Check.
    Empty bottles of beer and wine everywhere? Check.
    Dozens of pairs of shoes? Check.

    And yea, there is plenty of clean folded laundry but not in a basket because there is the laundry I’ve meant to drag to the washing machine…

  4. Your vibrator on your bed because, face it, nobody’s coming over?

    How about, vibrator on the bed because it’s my damn place and I don’t have to be ashamed of or or apologize for my sexuality?

  5. Regardless of whether anyone’s coming over, that is.

    (If any potential lover complains of its existence, they cease to be a potential lover in record time.)

  6. Real Persian carpets? Check.
    Moroccan dining room table. Check.
    Chinese dining room chairs? Check.
    Craftsman bookshelves, stuffed to bursting with books? Check.
    Absolutely no damned interest in the kind of person who thinks in cliches? BIG CHECKMARK.

  7. If my vibrator was ever out on the bed, it’s because someone is here or is coming over. When I’m by myself, I’m pretty fastidious about washing and reshelving all sex toys.

  8. Now that I live with someone, I don’t have my giant plant collection or my constant box of wine in the fridge. I also don’t live on crackers and tomatoes like I used to. Why that changed, I don’t know.

  9. “If any potential lover complains of its existence, they cease to be a potential lover in record time.”

    Does this ever happen? Why on earth would anyone complain about that? It’s just power tools to make the job easier.

  10. I don’t match any of the comments or the list — and I’ve been single for a while. I have piles of books — mostly technology or rhetoric — but that’s as close as I come to most of the lists.

  11. Yeah, that Gawker list was pretty obnoxious, as if all single women are just pathetically obsessed with losing weight but are too stupid/weak-willed to do anything about it other than compulsively buying everying marketed as “lite” or “diet.”

  12. I’m pretty sure the Gawker list was supposed to be a joke. It had Cathy!

    Sadly, I have half the stuff on Jill’s list and I live with a boy. (Though he has almost as many shoes as I do.)

  13. “Anything lite or diet around. Cases of Diet Coke. Weight Watchers ‘Just 2 Points’ bars”

    That one confused me the most. I was under the impression that a lot of women, whether they are single, taken, or married, will try eating low-carb bars and diet drinks. Since when is Weight Watchers just for single people?

  14. Yet again, I totally and utterly fail a Woman’s Cliche List. Wow. I am so surprised.

    Anyway, I haven’t lived alone yet, but I have a pretty good idea of what it’ll look like:

    – Stacks of manga, comic books, sketch pads, magazines (even the pretensious ones, like Time!), and anime DVDs scattered across the living room. NO women’s magazines. Ever.
    – Bathroom having only electric toothbrush, toothpaste, shampoo, soap, nasal spray.
    – Bathroom drawer #1 has my hairbrush and lackies (hairties). Bathroom drawer #2 has all my medication/creams/etc. Bathroom drawer #3 has a giant toilettery bag full of make-up that I only wear when I go somewhere special.
    – Fridge having the essentials of coke, tim tams, milk, and eggs, plus basic vegetables and fruit (because I suck at cooking).
    – Heaps of clothes on floor that migrate around the room. Most shoes thrown in the bottom of my wardrobe (and I have six pairs, tops). Handbags hanging from the post of my bed, except for my work one, which is always on the coffee table.
    – Kitchen full of dirty dishes, empty water bottles, and still-open box of weetbix.
    – Walls covered with anime/movie posters, or prints of Renaissance/Aboriginal/graffiti art.
    – PS2 humming above my TV, PSP on nearby coffee table.
    – Pantry having a giant box of every medication known to humanity, like panadol/sudafed/sinutabs/strepsils/cough syrup/nurofen/coldrol flu&cold/more nasal spray/heat pack/etc/etc.

    Sooo … basically the exact opposite of the Cliche Woman’s Apartment.

  15. Ginmar, I envy you your Persian carpets.

    Nothing pink here, and no five glasses of water on the table. I do, though, have scads of books piled everywhere, both in and out of bookshelves. All the lights work. And for some reason there’s a sixteen-French straight catheter on my kitchen counter. It’s clean. I think.

  16. Because married women “let themselves go!” Duh!

    No, I didn’t match up on the list. But I’m … a very un-feminine and un-tidy person. I wear makeup, and I have some weird things in my bin that most women don’t, but the only makeup I own is stuff I wear every day. Shock.

    I hate candles.

    I hate magazines.

    I like shoes, but I keep them all over. Not on racks or wherever.

    Most of my stuff is kept “wherever,” come to think of it. I hate organization.

    The closest I get to diet food is boxes of cereal.

    And my pantyliners are kept on my desk. SHOCK!!!

    Now, how about … gobs of frozen food? Check.

    Unmade bed? Check.

    Unwashed sinks/shower/toilet? Check.

    Movies lying everywhere not in their cases? Check.

    How many more before my membership in the female species is revoked?

  17. To me it almost reads like it’s supposed to be the “can’t get a man” single woman’s list. Vibrater because no one is coming over? Lots diet stuff? Stuffed animals on the bed, that just reminds me of Drew Barymoore from Never Been Kissed. And what’s with all the drinking supplies? And there’s Cathy, who used to annoy the piss out of me with how desperately she needed a husband. I know it’s meant to be the “unlaid” list, but there’s a difference between not getting any and “OMG no man will want me!” I’m getting a vibe of the latter.

  18. It may just be that my father is diabetic, but the ‘diet’ stuff confused me pretty badly, as well.

  19. Lamps that work because I rewired them.
    Stilettos–not the shoe, the weapon.
    Wooden table I built that’ll be the only thing left standing when the Big One hits.
    The only “lite” thing is a Lite-Brite. [All right, I haven’t got it yet but I found an online one somewhere]
    No makeup, no hair products, no wine, 2 pair of footwear counting slippers.
    No handbags but several backpacks of various sizes.
    Books, books, books, all over the place. None of which concern fashion, diet, man-catching or similar areas. No mags because I read ’em at the library. Pile of free newspapers to recycle.
    The mirrors are covered with maps.
    Not just dust bunnies but a complete dust ecology whose top predators are almost to the point of evolving a culture.
    Another evolving biosphere in the refrigerator.
    I once got half a dozen pair of pink socks by washing them with something red.
    An equalizer that I pulled from the garbage that I don’t know if I can fix it yet.
    Ancient sewing machine someone gave me that I’ve never got the hang of.
    There’s always a pile of stuff to haul off to Goodwill.
    Tools lying around in odd places.
    Art objects are all made by me.
    Did I mention the trebuchets?

  20. I think the only one I can check off is “ornamental pillows.” All four of them in two separate rooms on three separate pieces of furniture.
    What about “a stack of uncategorized records” and “a stack of all those books I’m working my way through, including Devil in the White City and a Harry Potter? Houseplants? Pictures of multitudinous nieces and nephews? Do I live in the most boring house ever?

  21. When I was single, I had scented candles, but I only put them out 1.) one at a time, and 2.) on the back of the toilet. Single ladies have smelly poos sometimes, too.

    I guess technically I had “unedited bookshelves”, too, except that my bookshelves were plastic crates and the stuff that wasn’t getting edited out was all my science and sci-fi stuff.

  22. Clue that I am the only human in the house:

    – several days of unwashed dishes piled in/next to sink
    – every horizontal surface covered with papers, books, houseplants, unopened/unfiled mail, and misc. . . . stuff
    – clothes draped on every chair and left in small heaps here and there
    – no multi-person seating (small apartment)

    I realize any of these can hold true in multi-human households, but I’m much more conscientious about picking up after myself if there’s someone else who might be annoyed with the clutter/filth/tripping hazards. But my birds don’t complain, so.

    I don’t think I hit a single one of those “single woman” items, though! There’s probably something around that is pink, but there’s something around in every color. Probably buried in the table clutter.

  23. Spotted and Herbaceous, you have a trebuchet? I’m so jealous. I’ve been meaning to build one, but I have such a long to-do list. I’m a slob (I admit it) and I married a slob (he admits it) but the only thing we really have standing around all over the place is books. Stacks of books on the couch, the table, the floor, on other stacks of books, and we have bookcases in front of other bookcases. Pink things? Uh, I guess there might be, here, let me look under this stack . . . uh-oh . . .

  24. Spotted and Herbaceous, trebuchets and stillettos? You wouldn’t happen to spend your weekends wearing clothing that went out of style a few centuries ago, would ya? 😉

    My apartment is decidedly “bookshelf eclectic” – the bookshelves are filled two and three deep, and if there’s flat space anywhere, there’s probably a book on it. Or paper with half-finished fiction scrawled across it. Or calligraphy supplies. I don’t read “women’s” magazines except in doctors’ offices, and then only if they don’t have something like Newsweek or Time.

    I own a mere six pairs of shoes. I’d like to own more, but finding cute and comfy shoes for size 10 feet isn’t easy. The fridge is fully stocked (well, ok, I need to go grocery shopping this weekend; I’m out of eggs and onions) and there’s nothing “lite” to be seen, because I prefer freshly-cooked flavorful food in reasonable quantities to prepackaged crap in large ones.

    The little-used makeup is in the drawer where it belongs, because I have better things to clutter up the bathroom counter with — books, for one. And scented candles. (What’s so single about scented candles? My parents have ’em in the bedroom, bathroom, and living room mantlepiece, and they’re celebrating 30 years in October.) No cats – my kitty died the year I graduated college, and I haven’t settled anywhere long enough to think about getting another yet.

    I hate shopping – clothes shopping, anyway, because my shape does not match fashion at all — and my mugs are emblazoned with things like Gryffindor crests, Star Trek images, and my alma mater’s seal. I’m sure there’s some pink around here somewhere, but I tend to cool colors. Ornamental pillows, check, with the caveat that they are also comfy pillows.

    What’s an edited bookshelf, why would you want one, and where would you put all the other books?

    Nair smells bad, my fridge has my grocery list and take-out menus stuck on it, and I own two whole handbags. My posters aren’t framed, but that’s mostly because they’re odd sizes and they’re more portable if they can be rolled up.

    Yes, the clothing is strewn all over the bedroom floor, and yes the feminine supplies are in plain sight – but that’s a learned thing and not a single thing, I think, as when I was growing up the supplies were always sitting right beside the toilet, next to the spare roll of toilet paper. Laptop’s on the desk, and the empty bottles are in the recycling bin, but there are glasses everywhere they won’t be knocked over by books, and plates on top of most of the book piles. Is my second X chromosome revoked yet?

  25. 2 cats=lotsa cat hair. Check.

    >>My apartment is decidedly “bookshelf eclectic” – the bookshelves are filled two and three deep, and if there’s flat space anywhere, there’s probably a book on it. Or paper with half-finished fiction scrawled across it.

  26. Magazines: Not especially. I have a bunch of periodicals for research/reading purposes, some 2600s, pulp magazines (from 1950-present), and a collection of 1960s Middle East Journals.

    Shoes/Food: Six pairs of shoes. More food than I know what to do with. I currently have four colours of bell peppers in there alone (green, red, white, and brown).

    Scented Candles: Ick. No thanks, I had a migraine yesterday.

    Makeup: See Candles, Scented.

    Stuffed Animals: Only the cat after he’s been fed. (Incidentally, my cat and my boyfriend adore each other.)

    Cat Hair: Unavoidable. Cat smell: My cat doesn’t smell. If he gets smelleh, I bathe him, which he doesn’t mind.

    Mugs/Pink: Ick. I do have a gorgeous set of stainless-steel KitchenAid pots and pans, though, an All-Clad frying pan, and a bunch of high-design kitchen gadgetry (bright red enamel-steel colander, yeah!).

    Ornamental Pillows: Yeah, but they’re not just for show; I do use them.

    Unedited Bookshelves: Well, bookshelves, yes, but my bookshelves are the most rigourous collection of readables you’re going to find outside of a library.

    Nair: See Candles, Scented.

    “Lite” Cottage Cheese/Diet food: Ick, no. I’m allergic to dairy and I don’t believe in “diet” food, and aspartame, well, see Candles, Scented.

    “Inspirational” things on fridge: Uh, does a magnet that says “Martha doesn’t live here,” purchased in part because we share a last name, count? Otherwise, I have a bunch of odd fridge magnets and one that says “Zahal” on it that I got when I ordered a t-shirt from an Israeli website. *shrug* Inspirational? I dunno. If pizza and militaria inspires you, perhaps…

    Framed posters: Not a one. I do have a bunch of art prints I ought to put up, though, and a 900 year old horseshoe. I do have some maps on the wall in my office, and an unframed military timeline poster, does that count?

    Handbag tree: WTF is a “handbag tree”? I don’t carry a purse; I carry a billfold.

    Stuff they didn’t mention: Antiques! Objets d’art! More computers than I know what to do with (four at this point, and counting)! Filing cabinets, assorted computer parts, SCA & sewing supplies, camping equipment, wooden wine crates…

    You’d almost think, reading all this commentary, that gender essentialism and stereotyping was bullshit or something…

  27. Stilettos? I have a couple of Swiss Army knives, and of course my Henckels, but I don’t have ANY stilettos.

  28. – scented candles, because I have houserabbits, and I don’t like the smell of air freshener.
    – empty wine bottles (I collect pretty bottles)
    – stuffed toy on bed (mine, his name is plato and he is a life-sized platypus, and he’s used as a pillow) and on the floor (the dog’s)
    – shoes everywhere. have you tried to find a shoe rack that takes eighteen-hole doc martens lately?
    – tampons etc in plain sight, because my bathroom cabinet is the size of a gnat’s wardrobe, and besides, it’s full of medicines
    – books everywhere, edited because I ran out of space and some of them were shite
    – fully-stocked fridge
    – model stegosaurus on top of the tv
    – sewing machine
    – burned-out bulbs still in the lamp. because I can’t reach my ceiling standing on a chair, so I wait until someone taller than five and a half feet comes along.
    – laptop, not on a coffe table, but on a chair, because there isn’t room on my desk. the one I put together myself
    – toolkit
    – pictures of my family, pets, and boyfriend.

    oh, and my bras are drying on the airer in the bathroom. with my knickers. if he can’t deal with my knickers off me, he doesn’t need to see them on me.

  29. My married woman’s take on the list:

    Piles of magazines everywhere: Check. Piles of magazines like Harper’s, Skeptical Enquirer, Friends Bulletin (Quaker mag for me), our alumni magazines, etc. No severely thumbed through fashion type magazines; I thumb through those in the supermarket checkout lane.

    Overflowing shoe rack and nothing in the fridge: No. But then I didn’t have that many shoes when I was single, either; I actually have more as a married woman, because my mother-in-law sometimes gives me shoes.

    Scented candles: Check.

    Slovenly heaps of little-used makeups in the bathroom: Nope.

    Stuffed animals in the bed: Nope.

    Cat hair on the furniture: Absolutely. My husband’s idea to get the cats.

    Cabinets full of mugs … Well, not their kind of mug.

    Anything pink: I got my colors done not long before I married, and pink turned up as one of the things I’m supposed to look good in. As a result, my mother-in-law has been giving me pink clothes for nearly two decades, now.

    Ornamental pillows: Nope.

    Unedited bookshelves: What the heck? I was supposed to give my husband the right to edit my bookshelves when I married him?

    Nair: Because, evidently, married women never, ever are expected to remove body hair? Actually, Joel doesn’t care if my legs are hairy, but I’m surprised to hear this is universal in husbands.

    Diet stuff: Absolutely. Joel has diabetes, hence, we have lots of diet versions of things.

    Inspirational or thinspirational things on the fridge: No, Shakespearean words on the fridge.

    Framed posters: This is, actually, the one thing that I had as a single woman and don’t as a married woman. It has to do with our eventually having acquired art to replace the posters. (For a similar reason, I no longer have the cinder block and board bookshelves that I had as a single woman.)

    Handbag tree: Married women throw out all their handbags? Actually, my mother-in-law is the one who gives me all my handbags.

  30. Ummm. I have lots of shoes and makeup. But I use them. Otherwise I don’t fit the ‘profile’ either. And on a totally off-topic note, is anyone still planning on meeting up after Yearlykos? I can’t afford to go to the convention but I’d still be down with a meet-up if anyone was still planning on it. Sorry to post about it here, but the original comment thread was closed.

  31. Hm.

    1) Folded origami samples, mostly modular and tesselated? Check.

    2) Three whole pairs of shoes and some birks? Check.

    3) A half-crocheted afghan and a shitload of yarn and fabric? Check.

    4) Cat hair? Check.

    5) A huge whiteboard covered in Welsh grammar rules? Check.

    6) Not a single diet anything? Check.

    7) Books, in vast quantity? Check.

    Once again, I demonstrate myself to be of a third, as yet unnamed, gender.

  32. 3, count’em, 3 trebs–designed and machined by me. As for the stilettos, I guess “diver’s knife that turned out to have no damn tang so I had to remake the whole handle” is more accurate. No I don’t belong to any of those creative-anachronism deals.
    …No animate dependents. 1 mutant stuffed bunny from childhood. The only pink thing is the inside of a steak. Except that at sunrise in midsummer, pink just happens.

  33. -Edited bookshelves. The several thousand remaining books are the keepers. I go through ’em once a year or so, and will need more bookshelves soon. Right now, there’s random piles of books everywhere, including the to-be-returned-to-the-library-pile.

    -cat hair and smell…check. I’m a lousy housekeeper. And whoever came up w/ the slogan ‘one box, one cat, one month’ never met my cat.

    -fairly empty fridge at the moment.

    -scented candles…see above about the cat.

    -the stuffed animals currently live in the closet, along w/ maybe half a dozen pairs of shoes I bought in the quest for comfy dress shoes that won’t shred my feet. Still looking.

    -Clothes and papers everywhere…check.

    -Very little pink.

    -Alas, no handmade trebuchets or remade stilettos/diver’s knives. I still have plywood left over from previous art classes, though.

    -one framed poster, one unframed poster, some of my art, and some favorite Farside cartoons cut out of daily planners from 2004.

    -no stacks of thumbed-through fashion magazines/’serious’ magazines. Instead, there’s the comic stacks in the closet, and some thumbed-through Bud K and tattoo magazines, along w/ Victoria’s Secret (they do make some comfy underwear).

    What category do giant mutant goldfish fall under? They really do need a bigger tank….And most likely, a stronger shelf. Anyone know of shelving/other furniture that could hold up under a twenty gallon tank?

    My place is definitely the home of a single human. You really couldn’t fit another person in here.

  34. I grew up in a house where my sister and I had direct orders (well, indirect since they were told by my father to my mother and then to us) to keep our “feminine products” in our bedroom, lest the 4 brothers be made aware of the existence of such brazen things. When I got to college and lived among women from less ridiculous upbringings and these items were OUT IN THE OPEN I was in awe. The fact that the men who lived in our co-ed dorm would sometimes SEE THEM and not DISINTEGRATE was a huge revelation. I’m thankful that I didn’t go straight from my father’s house to a husband’s house without this perspective. I’m sure I dodged a Prairie Muffin bullet there.

    Years later, as a married woman, I had a house fire. The husband was out to sea on a 6-month deployment. The fire inspector interviewed (interrogated?) me, asking when was the last time I cooked. I could not honestly remember. He of course assumed I was lying, since I was a wife so must cook. Forget that it was just me in the house and cooking for one is not cheap, sometimes its cheaper to grab a value meal (not more healthful, but cheaper) or have a bowl of cereal. Plus, I worked full time and went to school at night. So very busy and away from the house and eating on the run. When the firefighters pried open my melted refrigerator, my story was verified when they found only a case of Bud Light and a bowl of apples. Much tongue-clucking then ensued at my shamefully empty refrigerator, I guess because even if my husband had been gone for 5 months I should be able to whip up a Good Housekeeping meal on a moment’s notice. My point being that people have a funny perception of what you SHOULD have in your house based on their assumptions of you and the status of your relationship.

    Oh, and one thing about the article… there is a state of being called “unlaid”?

  35. We have the cases of diet drinks (MinuteMaid light lemonade, actually, but still) because like Lynn, my husband is diabetic. If I drink a soda, I drink the leaded variety. We also have scented candles because Steve bought ’em. He’s the apparently the only male in central Texas with an actual nose. We also have stacks of magazines, mostly mine, because lately I’ve spent a lot of time in medical waiting rooms (for Steve and our sons, sadly. Not myself) and I can’t stand not having something to read.

    What does the massive collection of LEGO pieces say about us?

  36. Ginmar, I’m coming to your house. Mmmm, persian carpets!!

    Let’s see, what’s in my single-woman’s apartment:

    Cornish Rex cat: Check (no shedding people!)
    Brand new Marcel Toulouse close-contact saddle: Big Check!
    Two pairs of dirty paddock boots: Check
    One pair of dirty field boots: Check
    New raised snaffle bridle: check
    Empty wine bottle: Already in the garbage, people. Check
    Double-stuff oreo cookies: Check
    Work files still waiting to be done: Check

  37. So, I’m just recently unmarried and live half time with a 13 year old boy.

    **piles of magazines everywhere? Um, yes. The Nation, F&SF, and National Geographic.

    **there are shoes everywhere. It’s true.

    **clothes everywhere, really. I try to pick up and Puppy (my kid) tries to pick up, but you know, we’re really busy. And I usually take off my bra as soon as I come in the house and leave it wherever unless someone’s supposed to stop by. Then I throw it all on the stairs up to my room, which are where I store things.

    **wine. Yes. There is wine. There’s plenty of wine.

    **more hair product than food? Well, no. But I’m feeding a 13 year old boy who eats ALL OF THE TIME. I have to have food. But there’s always so much in the fridge that’s gone bad. And the evidence from times Puppy’s been away is clear: there would never be food here if Puppy didn’t live here. Except maybe Banquet Fried Chicken and Totinos Pizzas (so much for diet anything, eh?)

    **tampons and such everywhere? Check. Puppy knows I’m a woman and he knows women bleed.

    **vibrator on the bed? Um, well, no. It’s in a box and I’m usually pretty anal (ha!) about washing and putting away. 13 year old boy. It’s not him I’m worried about (we respect each others’ privacy) but his buddies. I do not want unwashed 13 year old hands touching my sex toys! Plus, I’m already that mom by virtue of the separation and my relative youth. I don’t need the buddies telling their prudey moms about my sex toys.

    **unedited bookshelves? um, yes, but we had those when ex still lived here, too. And my rule is to just keep buying more shelves. Although “unedited” is a bit harsh, since they’re organized by genre, then in some cases by era, then alphabetically by author, then by release date. Shut. Up.

    **music everywhere, just like the books. Also DVDs and comics. It’s a great giant mess. Also the D&D books that are currently spread all over the floor.

    **laptop on the table in the living room? Check.

    **handbags are everywhere, just like the shoes. They just stay wherever I drop them until I change them. Puppy’s learned to walk around them.

    **water glasses, coffee cups and wine/martini glasses everywhere? Check. Dirty dishes in kitchen sink? Check. We do try to keep up enough that child control won’t come fetch him away, but really, we’re busy and sloppy. And never home. So what do we care?

    **burned out lightbulbs? Yep. I’m just lazy. I don’t change them until I need to see in that location after dark.

    **musical instruments and cookbooks. Check.

    **pink? There’s some pink. There’s even more black. And some of the pink is Puppy’s. All in all it’s pretty colorful. There are some scented candles but I’m asthmatic, and my ex took most of them and the incense. They all make me wheeze.

  38. the only thing from this list in my apt is the beer bottles. Otherwise:
    6 different video game systems (including Pong and Atari 2600)
    TONS of books (sci-fi, reference, cookbooks, porn, shit tons of comics)
    My sword and knife collection including 2 stilettos
    An inversion table
    A kitchen table
    2 cats
    my laptop
    A movie projector and screen
    Illicit substances?
    OK. Um. ;D

  39. That list is total bullshit.

    My “single” apartment was more like:
    Clean kitchen from eating in every night: Check.
    Living room strewn with library books, DVD’s and bongs: Check
    Bookshelves full of books: Check
    Total absence of cats and girly mags: Check
    Bedroom a little of a mess: I guess, check.
    Bathroom sans piss marks on the toilet from someone’s penis missing its mark: Check
    Erotica books on the bookstand: Check.

    The only thing that has really changed from then to now is that I also have a big hairy boyfriend of awesome sleeping next to me, and we now own a cat. Everything else: The same.

    People need to STFU about how single girls are all pathetic and crap. “Oh they need the Cosmo mags because they can’t get a date!” I got plenty of dates- I just didn’t want to fuck most of them or continue to a second date. Because I had *GASP!* standards of who I would let into my bedroom and my heart. Oh NOES!! I am singlehandedly destroying the whole world, brazen hussy that I am.

  40. When I was single, I had an inspiration saying on the fridge: “If you can bake a cake, you can build a bomb.”

  41. So if I become unsingle, the stacks of magazines and cat hair will disappear? Does this happen by magic or does the new male pick them up? I might sign up for this, but it sounds like he’ll drink all my wine while he’s at it.

  42. There’s a couple that stand out for me. 1) too many shoes, and 2) no food in the fridge.

    If you have this problem: put your shoes in the fridge. Like, duh.

  43. Also, screw bookshelf editing. The real tragedy is the people who have all the leatherbound classic novels in the living room and go all panicked and blank when you ask them what they thought of them, but keep the things they actually read hidden in a box in the closet. If it’s good enough to read, it’s good enough to show off.

    I guess you could pretend to be someone else, with the bookshelf editing and the hiding the magazines and whatnot, in order to manipulate a man into staying with you. But that would make you a scumbag liar. I guess some people like that.

  44. Oh, that’s what bookshelf editing is! Here I was thinking it was people weeding out the stuff they weren’t gonna read again. Really, if someone’s gonna mock my reading, why are they in my home?

  45. 1. Piles of magazines everywhere, comprised of tons of pretentious ones that are clearly untouched and then severely thumbed-through Vogues and Luckys.
    Got a couple New Yorkers and weekly local papers around somewhere.

    2. Overflowing shoe rack and nothing in the fridge.
    Opposite. Lots of stuff in the fridge. Three pairs of shoes to my name.

    3. Scented candles.
    Yeah, a couple collecting dust on the windowsill.

    4. Slovenly heaps of little-used makeups in the bathroom.
    I keep it in a drawer.

    5. Stuffed animals in the bed.
    I own no stuffed animals. Well I got this toy owl from a nephew for Christmas. He’s sitting on top of my TV.

    6. Cat hair on the furniture.
    I don’t own a cat. I’d like one, but I don’t want the litterbox smell.

    7. Cat smell.
    See #6.

    8. Cabinets full of mugs featuring the likeness of lady who looks like those hypertrophically-limbed Daily Candy illustrations, bearing the legend “I Love Shopping” or whatnot.
    I have a Wonder Woman mug for myself and a couple plain ones for company.

    9. Anything pink.
    Um… nope.

    10. Ornamental pillows.
    Yeah, I’ve got a few.

    11. Unedited bookshelves, esp. if they include He’s Just Not That Into You or anything along those lines.
    I’ve purged my book collection a few times over the last year. Still have a lot of novels and short story collections. No “how to find a meatball to knock you up” self-help anywhere.

    12. Nair.
    P.U. and ouch the burning.

    13. Lite cottage cheese in the fridge.
    I haven’t eaten cottage cheese in I think about ten years. It actually sounds kind of good right now. With sliced tomato and salt and pepper? hmm

    14. Anything lite or diet around. Cases of Diet Coke. Weight Watchers ‘Just 2 Points’ bars.
    I have some Equal packets I stole from the office.

    15. Inspirational or thinspirational things on the fridge.
    Oh god. No.

    16. Framed posters.
    No

    17. Handbag tree.
    I keep all three of my purses on a hanger.

    18. A copy of “Bridget Jones’ Diary”, either the book or the movie.
    Rented the movie once. Thought it was overrated. I figured the hype must have been for something so I found a copy of the book. Thought the book was even more overrated than the movie.

    19. A really cool shower curtain.
    Plain white.

    20. A “goody drawer”.
    I have one trusty vibrator that I keep in my underwear drawer. Is that what they’re talking about?

    21. Smelly bath salts, fizzes, or bubble bath gel.
    I have a jar of grapefruit salt scrub from Trader Joe’s on my shower caddy. I don’t use it much because it makes the shower floor slippery.

    22. Some product from a home selling party (Tupperware, Cookie Lee, Party Lite, Naughty Lady).
    People still have those parties?

    23. Soft fuzzy socks, possibly with an image of an animal sewed on.
    No animal socks. A friend gave me a couple pairs of slipper socks for Christmas the other year that I never wear. Most of my socks are black trouser socks or white Hanes athletic.

  46. 1. Piles of magazines everywhere, comprised of tons of pretentious ones that are clearly untouched and then severely thumbed-through Vogues and Luckys.
    Scientic American and TV Week are the only mags in the house.

    2. Overflowing shoe rack and nothing in the fridge.
    Lots of stuff in the fridge. As far as shoes go: one pair of runners, one pair of hiking boots, one pair of cycling shoes, one pair black heels..

    3. Scented candles.
    Ah-choo! No.

    4. Slovenly heaps of little-used makeups in the bathroom.
    No. What little make up I have is on the top shelf of the cabinet, and goes untouched for months, perhaps years.

    5. Stuffed animals in the bed.
    I’ve a dragon sitting on top of my monitor. Wanna make something of it?.

    6. Cat hair on the furniture.
    Allergic to cats..

    7. Cat smell.
    See #6.

    8. Cabinets full of mugs featuring the likeness of lady who looks like those hypertrophically-limbed Daily Candy illustrations, bearing the legend “I Love Shopping” or whatnot.
    No. There’s one shaped like Darth Vader’s head though.

    9. Anything pink.
    Nope.

    10. Ornamental pillows.
    Nope.

    11. Unedited bookshelves, esp. if they include He’s Just Not That Into You or anything along those lines.
    Thousands of sci-fi, fantasy, mysteries, plus some Jane Jacobs, Jared Diamond, and Jack Layton.

    12. Nair.
    Not since I was 15.

    13. Lite cottage cheese in the fridge.
    No, though I have nothing against cottage cheese.

    14. Anything lite or diet around. Cases of Diet Coke. Weight Watchers ‘Just 2 Points’ bars.
    Yuck.

    15. Inspirational or thinspirational things on the fridge.
    Photographs, magnets, and shopping lists.

    16. Framed posters.
    If you mean prints, then yes.

    17. Handbag tree.
    I have two backpacks and a wallet.

    18. A copy of “Bridget Jones’ Diary”, either the book or the movie.
    Nope

    19. A really cool shower curtain.
    Black roses. It’s fairly cool.

    20. A “goody drawer”.
    No idea what this means.

    21. Smelly bath salts, fizzes, or bubble bath gel.
    Nope

    22. Some product from a home selling party (Tupperware, Cookie Lee, Party Lite, Naughty Lady).
    Nope

    23. Soft fuzzy socks, possibly with an image of an animal sewed on.
    One pair of soft fuzzy purple socks that my little sister gave me for Christmas. No animals involved.

  47. Well I think I fell in love with Spotted and Herbaceous Backson there, but:

    A big-bum sofa: all the furniture I need, besides
    A chest of drawers: and perhaps
    A jar of hair gel in the bathroom, keeping my toothbrush company, as well as
    3 broken television sets, to be converted into fishtanks
    Guitars, guitars, guitars: and then some.
    Not to mention the drum machine
    And the keyboards
    And the constantly uplifting pencil and paper
    Beautiful Computer: keeps me sane and jobhunting
    Fridge which contains a paper bag of mushrooms and 8 litres of milk: why not?
    Oh yes, and Housemates, because I don’t live in Manhattan, and can’t afford an apartment of my own.

  48. Oh, I do bookshelf editing, but I don’t think in the way they mean. I purposely put all those books I acquired on feminism right front and center on the bookshelves in the front room, so they are the first books someone sees. If they react negatively, I know they’re not coming over again. I also am a person who surveys the books in other people’s homes and asks about them.

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