After my last entry I was suddenly presented with a small collection of topics that I realized I’d completely forgotten to talk about. Since (expectedly) absolutely nothing has happened in my own personal life over the last two days, I’ll use this entry to catch up on the material I forgot to insert into Thursday’s blog and even toss in some originality and creativity this time! I write this blog for a number of reasons; one of them is to get better at it.
My last entry stated that I’ve done absolutely nothing lately. Evidentially, this is not entirely correct. In a conversation last night, Jenn reminded me that I went with my sister a few days ago to see a movie. “That’s right!” I replied, “I meant to blog about it!” The truth is that I have a somewhat unique taste in movies. I’m a guy who loves girl movies (and I’m not afraid to say it, although I’m beginning to realize how gay I sound all the sudden). Back in January I first stumbled across a movie trailer on QuickTime’s
Trailer Page for “Must Love Dogs”. I watched it and the trailer alone had me laughing. I made a mental note that I’d see the movie when it came out in the summer.
Well, summer finally arrived and with it a plethora of new movies. Most of them stunk pretty badly. I know, I know, there may have been a few decent films but, over all, nothing incredible has come out recently. Then again, I feel like I’m just making up my words because I haven’t exactly seen too movies lately. (Oh yes, I’m just dying to see “Herby: Fully Loaded”) But with all mockery aside, I actually found myself truly enjoying “Must Love Dogs” (which I have affectionately begun referring to as “the dog movie”). The humor in it (give or take a scene or two) is right on my likings. I was cracking up during the whole movie! I don’t mean cracking up as in loud outbursts though, but the kind of laughing you do internally while only showing a smirk on your face. For those of you who haven’t seen the movie, I’ll let you know what to expect! (no spoilers, so keep reading) It’s about a guy who’s old and single and not dating so his friend makes up a profile for him and puts it on a dating website without telling him first. Hmm, where have I seen something like this before? Oh yes; Scott’s blog! Anyhow,
| I loved how they put little references to internet humor in the movie (which I’m sure will be very “dated” when this movie is viewed in future years). It was very “cute” and I’d recommend it as a good date movie, despite the fact that I know anyone who reads my blog regularly has got to be single. |
Overall, I liked it. I’m slightly embarrassed to admit it, but oh well. My words are read only by people I’ll never meet and a small handful of people that I know in person (who I have a hard time showing my face around). At least I’m not going to go on my tangent about how wonderful the uber-sappy South Korean romantic melodrama “Love’s Concerto” or “The Scent of Love” is. I mean, come on, with the word “’ove”
in the title you know it’s got to be sappy.
I had a dream a few days ago that I woke up from and thought to myself “I should blog about this one”, but I forgot about it the next morning (as I often do). Last night I was in conversation with somebody and somehow something she said triggered the memory of the dream and it all came back to me. “That’s it!” I cried. “Now, to document it…” I haven’t written (poetically/fictionally) in quite some time, so I believe I’ll do so now. I’ll lay the story out and try to capture what happened in the dream the best I can. However before I do I’d like to toss out a quick disclaimer that I’m doing the best I can to remember the story and that some of the details in the dream didn’t flow so I’m having to tie it all together with after-the-fact embellishments but over 
all it’s what I remember. Also, this is not some kind of secret suppressed desire, and realistically this is not me or my personality (which is why I found this dream so unique). I do not want this to happen! Okay? You hear me? Good. Now, on with the story.
I felt as if I were a child having just been punished leaning against the wall behind me and staring down at my shoes to try to block out the world around me. The night was going terribly. I was with a group of people [not sure where, guessing a restaurant or something] and they were really bothering me. I couldn’t take it any longer, but as cowardly as I am I lacked the guts to express my frustration. I just wanted to get away from it, just for a few minutes. “I’ll be back in a few minutes” I said to them, and then I came here. The restroom seemed empty; it was quiet enough that I could hear the sound of my breathing echoing back from the mosaic tile walls. [I don’t know who I was with, but for whatever reason I didn’t want to be around them and was trying to avoid them by hiding in the bathroom] I made no attempt to hide here, but rather simply rested leaning on the wall by the door not expecting any of the group to walk through it any time soon. I leaned my head back and rested the back of my head on the wall and began to chant “just let it go”. I heard the door open and somebody walk in (although his footsteps sounded scuffled). I somehow knew it wasn’t one of the group. A few seconds later I heard a girl say “can you help me here?”
I nearly ran out in shock for the last thing I expected to see was a girl standing in the men’s rest room (come to think of it, I don’t think I’ve ever seen such a thing before in the US). She was hunching over trying to hold onto a large red bucket filled with water as she looked at me. “Can you help me dump this out?” she asked again. I moved toward her and grabbed one end of the bucket. “Let’s dump it in the back” she said as she nodded her chin in the direction of the far stall. We walked (with footsteps in unison) to it, and then I opened the door with one hand and lifted the bucket inside. The idea was to flush the toilet and pour it continuously so the toilet wouldn’t stop flushing. She flushed, I poured, and we succeeded in emptying the bucket. [I never figured out what was in the bucket, or why she brought it to the men’s restroom, or why we went to the far stall – but then again it was just a dream] She sighed “thanks” in exhaustion and wiped her brow with the long-sleeve of her left arm. It was then that I first got a good look at her. She was wearing black pants and a white button-down long sleeved oxford shirt [which makes me think we’re at some kind of a nice restaurant of some sort]. She had brown eyes that looked surprisingly clear [in contrast to mine which are always bloodshot with stress or sleep deprivation]. Her long dark brown hair was held up behind her head, but after leaning over a second ago a small portion of it had come undone and it hung over her face. She was tucking it behind her ears with her hands as I watched her. I don’t know how tall she was, but as I looked at her our eyes were on the same level.
“Do I want to know?” I inquired. She chucked and, obviously dodging the question said “yuk, I feel so dirty” as she looked at her palms. She looked back at me. “Thanks for your help, but I really want to wash my hands.” I, somewhat curious at this point, smiled a little and said “all right, I guess I should as well.” We left the red bucket where it was (propping the door open) and walked over to the sink area. There were four or five sinks with a large mirror behind them. The lighting from above was much better on this side of the restroom, and the opposite wall was a dark maroon color which made her reflection in the mirror stand out prominently. She turned the water on carefully [I’m guessing to avoid having water splash on her clothes] and squirted soap into her left palm and began to wash her hands.
| I watched her do this for three or four seconds in simple curiosity. Who was this person? What was her story? She glanced up at the mirror to look at my reflection and I, instinctively, dashed me eyes back to my hands. I heard her laugh a little, then I smiled and began to chuckle as well realizing how stupid I was. |
[Way to go Scott! Just like the 1’st grade] Slightly embarrassed, I looked back at her in the mirror and said “Sorry, I’m not used to being in here with a lady.” [I wonder if the word lady is special, because I usually would have called her a woman. Was it the fact she was dressed nicely? Or was I trying to compliment somehow?] She smiled and replied “Me either”, only to laugh a second later when she realized what she said. She tried to correct herself “I mean-”, but I interjected “It’s okay, I know what you meant”.
By this point we’d both done something embarrassing, so I felt a little more comfortable speaking with her. My smile dissipated into a nonchalant smirk as I asked “So, are you here with friends?” Her smile quickly faded as she replied “That’s what they’d call themselves.” She firmly turned off the water and grabbed a paper towel and began to dry them. She continued “What about you? Are you here with friends?” I quickly replied “Yeah…”, but detecting a hint of irritation I decided to ask her “Why did you say that earlier? You mean you don’t like your friends?” She paused for a moment, then looked at me and said “No, that’s not it; it’s just that sometimes when they get together they act so mean and don’t even realize it.” Not really knowing what to say to comfort her [much like how I often feel in real life] I tried my best by giving her a generic answer. “Well, I hope your night lightens up for you. It’ll all be over soon, you should just try to enjoy yourself while you can and not to worry about the stuff you don’t like.” 
She smiled and her eyes brightened up a little bit and she said “Thanks”, but then she turned hear head and looked at the wall where I was standing a moment ago, then back to me. “What about you? Don’t try to tell me you weren’t hiding in here.”
I chuckled and raised my right hand to the back of my neck in a nervous gesture not really knowing how to answer her question. “I guess you could say that.” It was here that I realized that, since we’d started our conversation, other people had come in the restroom and looked at us quite strangely, but it didn’t seem to affect either of us. “What’s your name?” she asked. “Scott, and yourself?” “Katie.” [Katie... what a random name! I don’t know why it came up in my dream. Perhaps because it starts with K? (as do Keiko and Kanya)]
Okay, I’ve had enough of this. If I keep going at this rate it’ll take me forever to finish the story. Long story short: We talked for a while there, but then she said she had to go. She wrote her phone number on a paper towel saying “This is my cell, call it later okay?” and gave it to me. A few hours later (still away from home) I decided to call it, and when I did I was surprised to hear a man answer it “Thank you for choosing Pizza Hut, are you ordering for pickup or delivery?” I hung up and was shocked, “she set me up with that number to get away from me?” The more I thought about it though, the funnier I thought it was. I got a good laugh with it and went on with my day. Later that week I drove up to the bank to turn in some deposits. When the screen came on showing the teller, I was surprised to see it was Katie! Now, to write (descriptively) for the final portion:
“Looks like we keep running into each other huh?” I wittingly commented. She squinted at her screen for a moment until she realized who I was, then her eyes got real big and she covered her mouth with her hands in embarrassment as her eyebrows moved toward each other and raised a little, but then I could tell she was laughing. “So”, I asked so she wouldn’t feel so awkward, “how’d your night go?” She put her hands back down and tilted her head a little and said “it was a lot better. I can’t believe I went in the guys bathroom!” She continued, “What about you? Did you ever stop hiding in the restroom?” I looked into the camera and smirked a little bit. “Yeah, I did. I went out and it wasn’t too great, but I felt a lot better when I got back home. I had a pizza waiting for me!”
With that she laughed and started to say “I’m sorry” but I cut her off and said “nah, don’t worry about it; it’s cool.” Meanwhile, cars were lining up behind me. I said “perhaps we’ll talk with each other some time soon?” she replied “we’ll see about that.” I stuck a slip of paper with my screen name on it in the tube after it returned and pushed the SEND button. She got the tube, opened it up and looked at the paper. “Is this AIM or MSN?” she asked. Realizing that she (at the very least) knew something about computers, I contently replied AIM. She, almost in warning, said “I don’t like going to movies, so if you want to get together sometime you’d have to think of something different to do.” I smiled and replied “Oh, trust me, I’m not a big fan of the movie scene myself.” [Interestingly enough, I vividly remember thinking about my quote in my July 25’th blog entry which talked about how I think movie dates are a bad idea for someone you don’t already know well. I said “I’d better get going, there’s quite a line behind me!” and she concluded with “All right, like you said, we’ll talk later.” Then I drove away. The end!
Okay, I’d better get back to my day. I’m not used to blogging in the middle of the day; this feels really weird! Anyhow, I’m outta here. I’ll try to spend a little time today working more on this website so it looks a tad more user-friendly and professional. Beside, once I move away to Tennessee and start classes at my new university I won’t have much time to work on it then! I need to spend time now working on it so I can get it lookin’ nice for the ladies when I move away ^_-
Hello and welcome to the three hundred and nineteenth entry in 
the one and only ScottIsHot.com weblog. In case you haven’t already figured it out, I’m in a good mood today! It probably has something to do with the fact that, surprise surprise, I’m out of classes! Granted I have less than a month of temporary freedom, but it’s more than I’ve had in [scratches head]… 4 years? It seems like in high school and during my first two years of college I’ve been taking solid classes every semester and summer semester. The time gap I’m getting between when my classes got out at my last college until they resume at the university I’m transferring to is very convenient and dangerously relaxing; I’m afraid I’ll start to like this laid back attitude too much! I actually have time to devote to projects again, which leads me directly into my next topic.
You’ve been working on venom what? Venomcrack. It’s been quite amusing to watch various peoples’ reactions when I mention I’ve been working on coding a cracking program. Some people are like “wow”, some are like “what?”, and others are like “I refuse to click that link.”
| Regardless of how people take it, I honestly believe that Venomcrack could quite possibly become the coolest project I ever work on. Sure, I think I’ll create greater projects and do more significant works in my future, but as far as the coolness factor goes a large computer mainframe cracking program with a name reminiscent of fangs and a project page covered in blood is about as cool as it gets! |
Am I somewhat ashamed and embarrassed that my professional air has been shattered by programming projects consisting of cracking tools, script kiddy playtoys, and creative viruses? Perhaps, but since I never got good at a sport, hobby, or activity, at least I now have
something to point to in my childhood and be able to say “Yeah, I did that.”
The future can bring what it may, but I’m convinced that since I’m shifting away from computers any unprofessional sounding projects I’ve taken-up will become all but meaningless. Apart from what other people think, and aside from what other people say, I really love coding. It’s a passion of mine, and while it may seem silly to others it’s one of the few things I really enjoy doing. Coding is relaxing, yet mentally stimulating. It’s something you do in private, yet its results can be enjoyed by the public. It’s something that costs nothing to begin, but can be sold for money once it’s finished. Writing code is like solving math problems with poetry; It’s both logical and creative. Code, is art.
Now that that’s out of the way I can say that the Venomcrack project is pretty much completed. Aside from the few extra modifications I’ll make to it over the next few days (released as service packs) I’m not making a point to spend any significant amount of time working on the project. It’ll be completely finished in a few days, and something I’ll never be touching again so long as I live (at least, that’s the plan). Okay, too much adieu about cracking. Let’s move on!
Well, it looks like DeviantArt is about to undergo a massive boycott. To make a really long, partially mysterious, and legally un-publishable situation short, Jark (the co-founder of DeviantArt) has been legally bullied out of his administrative status by people who are trying to obtain DeviantArt for themselves to generate more revenue. Originally started as a website where artists could openly share their art 
with the world, it became massively large in an incredibly short period of time. A small group of people began to rise in power as the original creator couldn’t handle the unbelievable load of work. Jark handed his power to a few people that would come around to screw him up in the end. Now, with details still unclosed, Jark’s email address has been blocked by the administrators and is no longer in control of DeviantArt. Why? So the crew could turn around and use DeviantArt as a tool for the exploitation of artists and their art as a means to make money. It’s sad. I support Jark, as do countless other followers. Many people are encouraging people to refuse from posting any art unless it’s yellow propaganda against the people who brought Jark down. Until we know the full story, little can be said about what will happen to DeviantArt and the guy who started it all.
ps: DeviantArt is where I’ve been getting most of the pictures I’ve posted in my blogs for the last two years
Oh jeez Scott, what’s this about you dating blind people? Strangely enough, the same topic came up in conversations with two completely different people in the last week. I don’t want to say too much too quickly, so I’ll start off with a little research. That’s right; more website archaeology! I looked for the earliest mention in my blog of me talking about dating a blind girl. Sure enough, in a blog entry from September 14’th 2003 (about two years ago) I found the earliest known reference of my casual and curious interest in blind women my age:
|
I decided to mention this to a small handful of people mainly to get their opinions or thoughts (or if nothing else, just to see their reaction). I don’t know why I shared it with a room full of guys, but it was late, and I was stupid. They probably thought nothing of it and will never think about it again, but it seemed like a big deal to me. What was it? Well, it sounds [strange] but, “I want to date a blind woman”. Date, in it’s wording, is poorly expressed; more like I’d want to be really close friends with a blind woman. I mean, hear me out here. Imagine being blind, unable to see. Could you fathom what your outlook on life would be? Could you imagine how different everything would seem?! I find that so fascinating! It would be so awesome to talk with her =o) I think something like that would also cause someone to become a lot more mature (mentally) in a shorter period of time. “You could not even imagine the thoughts you uncover when you have no where to probe but your own mind”. I think someone like that would be so fun to talk to and get to know. |
Wow Scott, two years ago? What has changed? Surprisingly enough, not too much. I still completely agree with the part I quoted up above. I know it’s a self-delusion and I accept the fact that realistically blind people are pretty much just the same as those who have 
perfect vision, yet it’s a delusion that I have a hard time letting go of because it seems so beautiful. I love thinking that perhaps, somewhere, right now, there’s someone who’s not been so dehumanized by growing up in cliques and filling her mind with mindless television that perhaps, just maybe, she’d be genuine. Do I really think that spending a large portion of your life makes you genuine? No, [sigh] I don’t. I just like pretending that because it gives me hope. Perhaps I keep holding on to the idea that a girl my age who is blind would somehow be different than all the rest, because
| I’m completely disgusted with the stereotypical American girl who cycles through boyfriends, who rots her mind watching MTV, VH1, and other crap television, who obsesses over her wardrobe, who has little to talk about apart from teenie gossip and who’s going out with who, and who bleeds empty pop culture through the very pores of her shallow and essentially lifeless existence. |
I want to find someone I can
spend time being with and talking to and feeling like there’s a human on the other side of her words, and not just formality. Granted, there are exceptions and I happen to be fortunate enough to have befriended a few girls who seemed real over the years. I just… I don’t know. Sometimes I think I come up with these crazy ideas of ridiculous desires because it gives me something to think about and some kind of temporary aspiration for something that I think will be good for me. I think it’s comforting, but I know it can’t be good for me. I really need to let this one go, shouldn’t I? Someone recommended that I see about volunteering at the Conklin Center for the Blind here in Orlando. I found the idea sickening. It was then that I realized how horrible my words were. Would I
ever consider going so far as purposely seeking out a room full of blind women purely for the sake of trying to meet one I could become close with? All these years I thought meeting a blind girl would be amazing because she wouldn’t be shallow; now it turns out that I’m the one who’s shallow.
ps: I mean to offense to any blind people reading this website. (lol, I’m so cruel)
pps: Lots of people say that the reason I have this silly bias toward blind women is because I think they’d accept me better because deep down inside I think I’m ugly. This is clearly not true. You don’t see a ScottIsUgly.com do you?
Yes, I’ll be ever so slowly making changes to this beautiful little baby of mine. In case you’re confused, I’m referencing my bog. 
Yeah, I like the way it looks as it is, but every once and a while a little change is nice. I have a new color scheme I’m contemplating morphing over to, so over the next few days you might see things mysteriously begin to change fonts, sizes, or colors. I’m doing it slowly because I know that my most hardcore dedicated blog readers would be unable to function in their everyday lives if, suddenly, ScottIsHot.com visually changed a large amount in an instant. Don’t worry, I’ll let you guys adjust slowly ^_-
With a mere seventeen hundred words this evening I’m afraid I must wrap up this pointless little entry in my blog. Well, pointless is a little harsh; directionless is a better description. I’ll have to leave it upon myself (in the form of an anguished burden) to re-blog my thoughts shortly, and if I think to myself “I really don’t feel like blogging” I’ll simply have to respond with “Sure you do! You can test out your new color scheme!” You know those little mind tricks you play on toddlers to get them to do what you want them to? I think my brain works the same way. Well, at that closing note of insanity I bid you good night. Good night!
