Embarassing death situations, from tween to crazy cat lady

I just tweeted that I am reading "The Mindful Way Through Depression," eating Ben and Jerry's, sitting alone on the bed with our cats. This is clearly one step from my full crazy cat lady status. In fact, I immediately thought this would be an embarrassing way to die. With melted ice cream in my lap, a book of depression to the side and three hungry cats gnawing at my toes. This is probably the analog to dying while mastubating as a pre-teen in your parent's house. Of course the typical scenario might involve your mom finding the Fredric's of Hollywood catalogs between your mattresses, or in my case, the International Male catalogs. Oh, the pain. Oh the male sarongs.

Now that I am older and no longer living in my parents' house, the masturbation death scene is not so vivid, but the spinster, crazy cat lady death is taking its place.