STACITA.

I've been a little absent lately.  Ok, three months AWOL.  Fine.  Sorry.  I'm back.

Lots has happened in the life of Stacita, perhaps that explains the absence and transition from detailing the lives of an alter-drunk-ego, to an almost-30-living-in-the-city-with-a-boy Stacita.  In other words, blogging about making out with Woodsmen on the roof of rental cars seems really long ago (although still awesomely funny.)  And not that I would ever admit that I've changed or outgrown Stacita, because I haven't, but I'm just searching for how to best unleash her.

Aren't we always?  Or do we just digress.  Maybe we should regress!

So here's a quick update:

1.) I'm still a HOT DAG.  For now.

2.) I do not like Britney Spears anymore.  Or Lindsay Lohan.  Or Paris Hilton.  

3.) I do like Hillary Rodham Clinton.

4.) I'm kinda hot for Fucker.  Oops.  

5.) I'm always hot for Pearl Jam.

I guess more things change, the more they stay the same. 

And here's a bit of Stacita too:  One week ago, fellow NJ-badass Bruce Springsteen and the BA E Street Band were in town.  I went.  With a Fucker.  And it was awesome -- great show  EXCEPT for these BAGADOUCHES in front of us who talked. The. Whole. Time.  Assholes.  Finally, when they left, I couldn't contain myself.  They broke the Rockstar Code (WESTLAW 1992.)  

Yeah, I opened my mouth and said, Thanks for talking the whole time, assholes while they left the show.  Last DB turned around and all he could stammerout was "Bitch."  [Author's Note: creative.] 

Fucker puffed up and man-jousting-pushing began.  Being the HOT DAG Badass I am, I jumped in and screamed ...

I'M A COP!!

And the DB believed me.  Moron.  And Fucker just turned to look at me with confusion.

But whatever, Stacita stopped the fight.  And the looks of those silly fighting boys (not excluding le Fucker) were awesome.  

Rock on, lawyer girl.  Rock on.