People

As you most likely know, I am a girl.
What does this mean?  If you follow the stereotype, it means I don't shut up and just talk.  And talk.  And talk.
Sadly, it's a bit true.  I love to vent, ramble, whatever.  But I don't think I'm to blame.  Part of it is because I have a lot of different interests and when I'm really, really interested in something, I have to talk about it.  There was a time where, on the way to the airport to pick up my grandmother, I yakked my mom's ear off about trumpet mouthpieces.  I manged to spend so much time informing her of something that will probably never be of any use to her (and probably doesn't interest her in the slightest).  The other part of it is because of people.  Sometimes good people.  But often bad.  Today, various people just made me feel especially icky.  I do not like that icky feeling.  People are rarely the cause, but today they were.  It's not the most pleasant feeling.
Anyway.  I am very cynical.  Again, I am not to blame for this; my parents are.  It makes me sort of admire people that are overly-optimistic and bubbly and charismatic because I'm not that kind of person.  Sometimes I like interacting with strangers for my own personal amusement (today I applauded someone who was singing something random, saying, "Yay!  Woot!" at school), but I really don't like talking to them.  I'm a total introvert.  There are even times where I prefer spending time in my own little world rather than talking to friends.  (Sorry, guys.  I still love you.)
I've gotten better.  For example:

That was me when I was 10.  Back then, I was shy.  Super shy.  As in, it was a miracle if you could get a word out of me.

This is a photo of me from last summer.  Five years passed and I turned into a person who's willing to speak her mind when necessary (yes, even in front of strangers).  I also became a geek and a metalhead.  My Colorado peers probably had something to do with this.
I still hate talking to new people, though.  This also includes other things: I despise oral presentations, group projects, and anything else that involves me working with people (I often participate in discussions, PMs, and other things on forums, but that's something entirely different - at least, in my opinion).
The people that usually get me worked up are politicians, celebrities, and various people at school.  Always a different reason.  I usually don't whine too much about people to my friends.  My poor mother and father are usually the ones that sit through rants, improvised speeches, etc.  I'm surprised they haven't used any duct tape or a gag on me yet.  I'm sure it would be helpful for when my mouth gets going faster than my brain.  (I'm slow, guys, and when I'm around family, I have a big mouth.  I talk a lot to them.)  I sometimes rant to my brother, but he doesn't rant like I do.  I also don't think he has the patience to listen to me go on and on about a certain subject.  (I don't blame him one iota.)  I, of course, can't rant to my sister, as she is only five and does not know about most of this kind of stuff and shouldn't have to.
But there are good people, too.  I remember that one or two weeks ago, another trumpeter and I were practicing in the hallway by the auditorium.  Some random girl came up to us, asked us to play, and praised us.  The fact that she took the time to do that amazes me.  And it really helped what had been a crappy day. 
Today, I was also reading a post on Chicks on the Right.  I left a comment, leaving my mini-rant for all the world to see.  At the end of the comment, I stated that I will never, ever have kids (only makes sense if you read the post and watch the video).  Some random woman commented, saying that I am a "smart young lady" (which means a lot to me considering the fact that I don't think of myself as the sharpest tool in the drawer); she also said that I shouldn't rule out kids because "children are a reflection of love" and "we need to have more little conservatives!"
For the record, I do not have a ton of patience for kids and the very idea of trying to raise them scares the living daylight out of me.  But her comment still meant a lot to me and it brightened my mood considerably.
People in general make me sigh, cringe, groan, and they often make me want to weep.  However, there are sometimes good people out there, people that are willing to put others above themselves and take time out of their day to help someone.  Those are the people that make me smile.

Arguing

I am very pro-life.  That said, I often follow pro-life blogs and sites including Live Action, founded by Lila Rose.  These people are dedicated to bringing the truth about abortion (and abortion clinics like Planned Parenthood) to the light.  I really like them.  Too many people are afraid to speak up about why they feel pro-life, but these people have taken a stand and boldly write to thousands (perhaps millions) about the ugly truth about abortion.
I was reading an article earlier today written by a woman named Kristie Walker.  It talked about how she was once pro-choice.  Then, once I finished, I went to where I never should have gone: the comments section.
Ladies and gentlemen, let me tell you this: trolls don't live in mountains or beneath bridges.  They live on the Internet.
I was being stupid.  No matter what's posted, there will always be trolls.  I probably forgot about this.  So of course there were trolls down there making personal attacks on the writer.  Which made my blood boil.  I.  Cannot.  Stand it.  When people do this.
I am always open to debating on abortion.  No one really has argued with me on the subject (so if you'd like to, send me a message!).  However, if anyone ever tried that with me, I'd simply assume they are foolish cowards with nothing left to argue.  Because they are.  They have nothing left to say that would actually make sense, so they simply attack their opponent instead.  It's complete cowardice.  And it is, in my opinion, a waste of time.
I remember signing a petition to help get Cosmo magazine in a plastic non-transparent bag and sold only to legal adults.  Seriously, their covers are inappropriate for kids.  The woman who started this petition and campaign, Nicole, encouraged us on Facebook to post and comment on Kate White's page (she's the editor) encouraging her to go ahead and put the magazines in a plastic bag.  I seriously doubt that she has the time and patience to go through her page and look at all our comments, but hey, who knows?  So I posted a few times, saying that I wouldn't want my sister to see that kind of stuff while walking around in Wal-Mart and that it wasn't helping young girls.  There have been girls as young as 11 who have been hurt by the lies produced by this magazine.  Not once did I make an attack on her or her daughter or anything.  Unfortunately, I believe some of the others did, and this one woman called us all trolls that were probably all 14 years old and blah blah blah.
It sort of hurt because that wasn't my intention.  But some others bashed her.  I'm sure that they either were passionate about the subject or were simply clueless.  And some of them probably were 14 years old.  (Isn't this sad?  I'm 15!)  Nicole's blog is for preteen and teen girls, so it's pretty likely.  But I find it disappointing.  I have to wonder if they were posting out of love, for the protection of young girls, or out of hate and disgust so that they could do some Kate-bashing.  
     

Things This World Would Probably Be Better Off Without

-country music.  Need I say more?
-math.  Don't argue with me on this one.  I actually started liking it recently, but only a bit.  I still think we'd all be better off without it.
-those stupid 404 error messages
-hypocrisy
-ignorance and apathy
-the OWS movement
-Stephenie Meyer's fanfiction the Twilight Saga
-frosting
-artichoke hearts
-glitter as a part of hair, outfits, on skin, etc. (tacky, tacky, tacky)
-leopard print stuff
-abortion
-Yo Gabba Gabba
-the Hallmark Holiday (pointless and too many people whine about it)

Memorable Dreams

I've been researching how to control your dreams (called lucid dreaming, where you're actually aware that you're dreaming and you basically decide what happens in the dreams).  It seems so interesting.  I haven't found out about it until today and I would love to be able to do it.
Everyone, of course, has some favorite dreams and some worst dreams.  I can't remember all of the nightmares I've had.  I can remember a nightmare where I was trapped in a giant spider web.  I struggled and tried desperately to escape, but I couldn't.  Then came along a huge black widow.  It ate me.  Oh, it was scary.  I used to be scared of black widows, but not that much.  The thing that scared me the most was water.  To be specific, putting my head underwater.  But I can't remember any water-related nightmares.
Another one was back in '05 or '06, when my mom was pregnant with my sister.  My siblings and I were all going down a water slide and I was holding Grace.  She was having fun, but Josh and I were panicking because along the sides of the water slides were frogs that were spitting at us.  The saliva was, as we knew, poisonous, and we were trying to protect Grace.  I don't know if I woke up before it ended or what, but it wasn't a pleasant dream.
The last one I can remember was that I was in Hyrule.  It was amazing.  The king was having a BBQ and everyone in the kingdom was invited.  But some people invaded and, in the end, I witnessed the king's decapitation.  The final image of his face, eyes wide with terror, haunted me the next day.
A lot of my dreams from last year were about reunions.  In January my great-grandfather died and some friendships ended, so they made appearances.  They were random places.  One ex-friend wanted me to meet him at a museum, and when I got there, he hugged me and started crying, saying how much he missed me.  It was pretty emotional.  I can also remember another one taking place in the middle of nowhere, though there were some railroad tracks that I started walking to the side of at the end of the dream.  I can't remember how many "reunion dreams" I've had, but I've certainly had quite a few.
One of my favorite dreams is one that I had in 5th grade, the time that I wanted to be an actress/singer.  I somehow got one of the lead roles for Spy Kids 4.  It was amazing.  I felt elated.  In the dream, though, they only filmed two scenes.  One was where I had to battle a girl younger than me but dressed in the same clothing (we were both wearing a lavender swearter, a purple skirt, and white tights).  She won.  The other scene was where we (some other spies and me) all had to cross a bridge.  Under the bridge there were giant octopi in some sort of dark green liquid.
I also have my fair share of romance dreams.  I remember a time where, in 8th grade, my crush took me to a swanky restaurant.  I was really happy, but then I woke up.  Pretty disappointing.  My personal favorite, though, was this one that I had when I was about 10.  We were in Oregon or something like that, and my mom needed to go to the grocery store.  There was a pier behind the grocery store, so she left me there with my babysitter, who just happened to be Jesse McCartney.  I squealed.  While my mom was in the grocery store, we talked and, in about five minutes, fell in love.  We were about to kiss at the end, but a shark suddenly leapt out of the water and came very close to us.
I remember another dream where the trumpet section from my freshman year all went to the Carnival of Rust (from the music video by Poets of the Fall).  All the other trumpeters seemed to be having fun, but I seemed to be the only person who knew the significance of the carnival, of why it was so quiet and desolate.  It was a sad dream for me.
I often don't remember dreams (I heard that you only remember 10% of them), but I remember the dreams I had last night.  One of them was where I and some other friends started attending some prep school.  They gave all of the sophomores candles, but I had no idea that what I had been holding was a candle (I couldn't even find a wick), so I, being the smart girl I am, ate it.  I figured out later that they were candles and was amused that I actually ate it.  I told my friends about this during passing period or something.  Aubrey had laughed.  "What did it taste like?" she asked.  "It tasted like jicama," I answered.  I can't remember much beyond that.  The other dream I had was where I was Katniss Everdeen from The Hunger Games, but I didn't live in District 12.  I just lived here in Loveland.  In fact, my dream was sort of about me sleeping in my own bedroom.  (Best dream ever, huh?  I'm the girl who was on fire and the only thing I actually dream about is being asleep.)
I also like hearing my friends' dreams.  Everyone does.  And they are even better when we're in them.  My friend in 5th grade had a dream where we all wanted to play basketball (what we did a lot during recess), but we didn't have a ball.  They decided to use my head.  It magically popped off and functioned like a normal ball.  At the end, my head just came back on and everything was normal.  Made me laugh.  Though I was a bit horrified that it was my head that was the ball.