im so grown up part dos

i just noticed im following myself. can i say...vain? no but seriously, how did that happen? did i black out in a moment of sheer genius thought and unconscientiously follow myself because i'm that awesome? or am i computer illiterate and don't know wtf i'm doing and just clicked on something? omg i almost misspelled "illiterate" and "misspelled". HAHAHAHA. WTF. thank you spell check wavy red line. someone needs to go back to school.


yeah so not only has my IQ apparently dropped 100 points (refer to 1st paragraph), i've also become domesticated. awww yeahhhhh. that's right. say hello to me, karlos stewart. i can cook, clean, and do laundry. key word: can. does that mean i do it on a regular basis? sometimes. i'm on a "cooking at home" kick so i've been testing out some recipes on my guinea pig aka eric tsai. so far so good. unless he's lying to me. but as he stated before, he doesn't lie because he has a horrible memory like that of a goldfish. and will forget about the lie he told and end up screwing himself in the bunghole. because i have a phenomenal memory and remember EVERYTHING. but it's kinda fun. for instance, we will sit down to watch a movie together and he's seen a ton of movies i haven't seen.

me: ooooohhh ive been wanting to watch this movie.
e: oh yeah? i've seen it before.
me: *disappointed* oh. shit. well, nevermind then, we can watch something else. is it any good?
e: ehhhhhhh....wellll.....i don't remember. let's watch it again!!
and then he will proceed to watch it with as much zeal as he would a movie he's never seen before. see? fun!
he's kind of like that guy from 50 First Dates that only remembers things for 10 seconds. but just not to that extent.

another growed up thing i've started doing is stop going out. don't get me wrong, karlos likes her days off and definitely still has a taste for that poison--alcohol. i remember back in the days i would get completely obliterated, stumble home somehow, and wake up with no recollection of the nights events. my only clues are pictures that dear friends post of me passed out in a lounge somewhere, holding my arms up and posing with me. nowadays i wake up to eric banging on my windshield and yanking me out of the car because i passed out on the way home and refused to wake up. but this only happened once. or twice. curious. my memory fails me.

do i miss those hard pAArtying ways and nights out with friends until the wee hours of the morning? eating spegs and rice at 4 AM and waking up looking like one of those people who got stung on the face by bees and had a horrible allergic reaction? kind of, yeah. the endless nights of karaoke, countless bottles of crown, the smell of cigarettes saturated in my hair and clothes . being miss social butterfly and prancing around town like a korean queen B socialite. but what i like more than all these things is not waking up feeling like death, losing 22 pounds, saving money that needs to go to bills, and eating semi-healthy. what? did i just hear you snore? well fuck you. i'm not peter pan. i knew this was bound to happen sooner or later. i'm turning 30 next year. my ovaries are not getting any younger and my biological alarm has been going off. i think i have like, 30 eggs left. maybe more that have been picked and preserved from all the alcohol. either way, i'm determined to try to be a mommy at some point so i have to cleanse my poisoned uninhabitable womb starting now. the craziest, most party animal girls i knew are now awesome wholesome healthy mommies. so why not me, right? yeah yeah, say your jokes. i can still be gangster with a Bundle O Joy strapped to my front and a mini karlos in it. that's like, 1.5 gangster. *gang sign fingers*