Ironically posted six months later...

I've learned how to back-date posts.

Which probably means I will just procrastinate and then fill in the gaps at a later date.

I'm a busy journalist, what can I say.

Surprised... AND delighted? I'm in...

I'm addicted to Google Analytics. I can't wait to come home and check it. I check it before Facebook even.

It's just so much delicious statistics! Hooray for math!

*Whine* why doesn't anyone comment other than Thrifty! She ain't my only reader! Maybe what I'll start doing is only blogging about half a sex-shenanigan and then will leave you hanging and unsatisfied until you coment inquiring more details.

*whoa! editor's note* that was meant to say sexy-shenanigan.

I'm really starting to feel like this is a one-way relationship. I'm doing all the work here, entertaining you and spilling my guts.

Also, Thrifty, I pledge to start responding to your comments.

Oh, so ya. It's ma beeday. I am, officially, old. It's time to put on some pants and be a grown-up.

The original stalker...

In October, election night, I signed up for a Google Analytics account. So I could monitor you scoundrels.

Then, completely forgot about it. Until last night. Where I completed the final step in the sign-up process.

So, in short, all of your moves are being tracked, as we speak.


I can seeeeee you!


Also, have double the amount of readers I thought I had... huh...

Mmmm... panic

So I've neglected my poooooor Twitter. (I start too many posts with 'So' I think...)

And there's really no excuse. I update FB a thousand times a day via text. Twitter is just as simple.

But I'm an attention whore. And 90% of tweets go unread. And I can't sign on to FB without a notification.

So I actually went onto Twitter today, followed some of my friends who added me eons ago (sorry) and updated my ridiculously out-of-date profile.

Next stop... the blog... and I just can't bring myself to update my "about me" section. It means erasing The Observer, The Courier and even my retail job (naw, didn't quit, but I'm now part-time).

I'm pathetic.

In moronic news... I sent a verrrrrry stupid text to Irish. Or, at least I thought it was to Irish. I just assumed she was the last person I texted (and usually, she is... I need a bf...)

So, who was the last person I texted?!? TWITTER. F....M....L....!

In an unexpected twist of irony, my effort to utilize Twitter more has made me NEVER want to use twitter EVER again.

I realized my error almost immediately. And then panicked, trying to figure out how to delete the tweet.

On a possibly related note... I think that if you've found my Twitter, then surely you've been here too... And I just wanted you to know... that I googled you. And even though I may have more to hide, you have more to lose. (Why does this sound like a threat? I wanna be your friend, but I don't know what the rules are...)

Silly bullshit post to tide you over until school is finished.

Soooo... the words I use most frequently on this blog... illuminating.

Mmmm... gravy.

All I ever think about is sex.

And elections.

I think I blog about sex far too often. So I'll give the people what they want.

Here's what I've been working on the past few days...

Pitfield doubts she’ll run again after Ward 29 loss | The Toronto Observer

And more shameless self-promotion...

Veronica Blake reports on Jane Pitfield’s loss in Ward 29 | Centennial onDemand

And fuck, I'm too wiped to continue. Here's the cole's notes version.

1. Gravy is SO delicious.
2. Ford is mayor. Get over it.
3. Did you vote?
4. Totally cried on election night.
5. The Observer website is totally popular.
6. Why does readership make me feel uncomfortable?
7. Why aren't there 36 hours in the day?
8. Abstinence
9. Condoms
10. Stalking

I miss you too!

Do ya miss me?

Well you can find me here... or here...

Lessons learned? Never let your drunk friend act as your spokeswoman with the dude you're dating.

Also, I really don't have time for dating.

But I DO have time for a girl-crush on her.

(I'm also interviewing her for an abstinence article. Ironic? Or conflict of interest)

Damn, I wish I had a cohesive theme to this blog.

(Or, could write a cohesive post, for that matter.)

Life, is a shit show.



Nobody wants to marry the funny-girl.

Promises: Now with more sincerity..

This is the beginning of a whole new me. I have decided that to follow up the Summer of YES!! I shall deem this next stage of my life...

The Semester of Organization & Productivity AND... RESEARCH!

Yaaaahhhhh!

So first things first, we'll set some goals.

1. IOU some posts. And I'm going to finish them. One by one.
a. 2 in the Montreal series
b. review on Rain
c. review on Bananashpeel
d. Montreal photos
e. summer of photos
f. summer in review
g. goal achievement
h. butt-load of stories
i. an about-me section

Jeeze. Gimme a break here!

FAQ: Why YOU need to get tested!

This summary is not available. Please click here to view the post.

Bah dah dun da-da-da- Daaaaahhhhh!!!

So... ladies and gentlemen... this is... my 100th post!!




Break out the champagne, because against all odds, I've actually followed through on something.

Why the Playboy cover, you ask? I know you've come to expect nothing but wholesomeness from this blog.

But I was google-image-searching "100" and everything was just... so dry... and boring. I needed... something... sexier!

So naturally I searched "100 sexy" and here's what popped up.

Attended a web workshop today. I learned the basics of Blogger and how to set up a blog.

Errr.....

Did learn how I can embed audio files and make a wicked-cool slide show, so (perhaps) you can look forward to that in the future. But don't get your hopes up. I like breaking promises.

Also learned that if it's on YouTube, I can embed it! Hurrah for disregarding copyright laws! Although, apparently I only post "random and obscure music".

Now, here's a good song. No offence to Kool and the Gang.

Continuing with my Jebus theme... (for you, CG, <3  )

Ah... the infamous sex-date...

Oh ya by the way, we're being stalked. Or at the very least, googled.

Well, two can play at that game, my friend.

And perhaps, to you, I pose the question, 'didn't I always know I was being watched?'

Just call me a narcissistic exhibitionist.

Oh, and I totally messed with the HTML coding, so that embedded videos will show before the jump on the home page. No biggie.

With the Internet, and even with the sex-beat, I'm starting to realize, that if you can imaginate it, then it exists, and people are doing it.

It's a rule that can be applied in all aspects of life.

So... Date Three?

G20. Now that I've got you're attention, here's more pratter...

So I discovered that I'm using some old, soon-to-be-outdated version of Blogger. This is much nicer now.

I'm sorry about neglecting you poor blog. I grounded myself from the Interwebs. I had shit to do before BTS. And, funny, I had 4 months to beautify this blog... And I waited until the craziness of the first week of school to do it. But it suuuuure does look purdy!

First week of school, and we've hit the ground running.

New semester, new me...

So what do ya think of the redesign? Pretty damn sexy if I do say so myself. 2 1/2 hours of dicking around and not liking anything, followed by an hour of solid work. Don't get excited, all I did was customize the template and back ground, then tweaked the settings. I wasn't messing around with HTML. Some new features include my Twitter feed, links to other websites that I've worked on or have featured my work, and a welcome message (with the much-needed disclaimer!) Also, there's a search option, and now you can follow and subscribe! So please do! I would like to have a rough idea of who's reading this thing. This is my audition for the Web Editor position at The Courier, Centennial College's student paper. I have grand plans for that site. GRAND. Everyone cross your fingers, toes and eyes for me. Another new feature is the jumps.

Not really reruns if they were never posted... certainly not a best-of...

Just cleaning up around here.

*sweep*sweep*sweep*

What's this?

*blows off dust*

There are some unpublished drafts at the back of this closet.

Let's get them up for ya...

I just need the perfect titties. That's titles, Mr. Connery..

Whaddya know, its September 2nd. I missed a day. (getting ready for school, thus, getting ready to neglect this poor blog. Y'know, miss a post here, miss a post there, then you're back to one post a month.) So should I tell you about my second date? He both opened and closed the car door for me. About halfway through the night I decided I shant ever date the mens under thirty ever again. Neighbours C and M witnessed this. C says to M, "look at that! See how white-folks are?" I respond, "that ain't how white folks are. At least not the 20-somethings I have dated" Or should I tell you about the delightful time I had with neighbour C on the porch for the last... I dunno... three hours? Drinking wine (my greatest weakness!! how did she know?? thus, why I'm delving into the personal life again tonight. Dammit, too many people know the combination to all my secrets :( Ahhh, did I really just emoticon on my blog? Did I just make emoticon a verb? MW make 'zoo' a verb. But that's an entirely different tale altogether.) Jeeze neighbour C and I can shoot the shit all night long. I think I won't tell you about any of those things. Instead, dear reader, we're being watched.

Running short on juice..

Dammit. Left my power cord at my parent's house tonight. Made Mon a resume, and Dad some business cards. Also, I'm officially a grown-up, because I am now the proud owner of business cards of my own. So no post tonight! I think that the airwalk kicks I bought (child size 4 1/2) negate my journey into adulthood.

Gimme a break, I'm tryin to date here..

Blogging is exhausting, can't someone else do it? Jenna's Journey Diary of Why Octamom

Interrupted service..

A break from our regularly scheduled programming. This post today has been brought to you today by the good folks at Ziplock, this over-thinking brain of mine, and the letter K. So the summer of YES!! is drawing to a close. I'm going to do a recap sometime in September before I get back to school. So we're not going to talk about YES!! right now. But although I haven't been screaming it, if you're following my blog, (or if you know me IRL, or if you're simply stalking me (I'm flattered, *blush*)), you know I've been living it. So look for it in September: Procrastinate NOW!! in the summer of YES!! (the coming-of-age tale of a girl just trying to find her way in the big-bad city. A story, of a struggling journalist, lost-in-love and afraid... of living. But when she lets her hair down, and follows her dreams *cue music* anything is possible) And... as a special treat, I shall reveal the summer bingo card, that I have been threatening you with all summer. And that's not all!! The photo-a-day project shall be unveiled! An awards show shall follow. And of course, we gotta go back to the summer goals. And we'll round it all out with a clip-show. But if the summer of YES!! is coming to a close, what shall the semester, the next chapter of my life, hold in store? And more importantly, what will the semester be the semester of? OK, howsabout "The Semester of Organization and Productivity?" No? "The Semester of Decisiveness?" No? No? That's all I got! "The Semester of Love and other bad decisions?" Or, "The Semester of learning and following your dreams!" Ok, I guess I still gotta work on that. I really should work on my decision-making. I over-think everything... often before events even transpire. I'll look at something from every angle, try to determine any and all possible cause-and-effect scenarios, make pro & con lists.. then throw them out, and make a quick, rash decision. Then fret over my decision. And at the last second, change my mind. So, about this dating thing. 1. Giving my brand-spankin'-new moleskine daytimer a workout. 2. How do dudes juggle multiple chicks at once? 3. I feel terrible even talking to more than one guy at a time. 4. My new dating mantra is... meh... free dinner? 5. Feel like I shouldn't be blogging about this. 6. Don't hate the playah, hate the game. 7. Am I a hypocrite, or a revolutionary? Peut-etre, je peux ecrire en francais des mes rendez-vous? Bien sur.

La vie en rose...

So I'm heading off to Montreal at the ass-crack of dawn (8 am) tomorrow. But never fear, posts have been dutifully scheduled. It's dawned on me that this blog may be a little too-hot-for-TV. Well, as HB put it. "It's good. You write how you talk. I feel like I'm having a conversation with you. But heaven help you if a future-employer reads it. She has a point. But I caution you, reader, to take this all with a grain of salt. I'm usually pretty dull and ordinary. I don't blog about my 9 hours spent at work. And I certainly don't blog about sitting in sweatpants, food network on the telly, eating chocolate and wasting time on the interwebs. I'm very responsible and driven. (But when I let loose... whoa boy, watch out!) I also have equipped one of my match.com suitors with allll he needs to be able to stumble upon this blog. I don't care about future employers. It's journalism. I think I'm representing my would-be profession with flare and panache. I don't mind acquaintances reading this. Co-workers. But as for friends and family? Well I can be a little closed-lipped about some of my "feelings". But out in the blogosphere, I'm more liberal with my emotions. I don't want people seeing me as weak. But as for the mens and the dudes? I think this blog gives way too much insight into everything Veronica. So will I edit myself? Will I delete anything? Will I turn over a new leaf? Maybe I'll be a little more discriminating. Or maybe, I'll go smoke a bowl. Au revoir, bitches!

I'm not high-maintenance, right?

Why is my first thought always, "but what will I wear?"

Took my hair out of my ponytail, tousled. Pouted in the mirror. Reapplied bronzer and scrutinized my end-of-the-night eye-make-up.

Looked good, but something was off.

Powdered my nose (and greasy forehead. seriously, I could prob fry an egg on my forehead.)

Lipstick would be too much, right? Ok, tinted lip balm. Damn these three tiny zits on my chin.

Eyebrows are prefect, and freshly plucked. Took care of all the general landscaping areas today. Brush my teeth. Deodorant. Perfume? Naw..

Maybe I should pee? Oh, close the medicine cabinet. Your make-up and jewelry organization makes you appear high-maintenance!

Ok. Perfume.

Remove baggy sweater and wife-beater. The turquoise bra is my favourite, that can stay. Slip my slinky black tank back over my head. I'm glad I didn't put it in the hamper. Slip off my comfy green pyjama bottoms. (so cute, with little white stars.) This calls for booty-shorts.

I had been saving this simple black cotton thong, my favourite. This thong gives me confidence. I appraise the overall look, and finish it up with small blue studs.

And now, I'm ready to blog.