Free Miles to Go by Miley Cyrus Page B

good party is someone getting their face smashed in a cake—not getting smashed. I don’t drink and I would never smoke. I always say that for me, smoking would be like smashing my guitar and expecting it to play. I’d never do that to my voice, not to mention the rest of my body. My mom wants us to be careful not just about smoking, but about second-hand smoke too. What Mom doesn’t? Both of my granddads died of lung cancer (even though Pappy’s cancer came from asbestos, not from smoking), so I get why Mom is extra worried.
    Too bad we get invited to lots of cool parties, because it’s kind of wasted on us. After the Oscars last year, we were supposed to go to Elton John’s party. We were invited to Madonna’s party. There was some other dinner party that was a big deal. We had every ticket in town. It was dazzling and flattering. But after the awards show was over, my mom and I looked at each other. I said, “I’ll go if you want to go.” And she said to me, “I’ll go if you want to go.” There we were on Hollywood’s biggest night, all dressed up, with every hot invitation we could imagine. So what did we do?
    We stopped by our favorite local diner, Mo’s, got barbecue chicken pizza, and went home to change into our pajamas. We were chowing down in the kitchen, talking about how much we like barbecue chicken pizza, when we paused for a moment and I said, “Should we have gone?” Then we shook our heads: Nah . When it comes down to it, we’d rather be home in our jammies.
     

    It’s easy to be the same family we’ve always been when we’re hanging out at home. But it’s a little harder when we’re out and about. Then the fame thing gets in the way. We like to go to church on Sunday and then to lunch together afterward. People will sometimes come up to us while we’re eating. That’s when my mom will say, “It’s Sunday. We’re eating. She’s only sixteen years old, and she’s not allowed to do that right now.” I get embarrassed. Why can’t I just do one signature? It takes five seconds. It’s no big deal. But my mom says it’s family time, and signing autographs can wait. She wants to make sure there are times when I’m just Miley, hanging out with my family.
    Another thing that happens is that sometimes we’ll go to Universal (the amusement park), and fans will gather, wanting to take a picture or to get an autograph. I don’t mind doing it, but my family doesn’t want to stand around for an hour waiting for me. They want to ride the rides. And suddenly I’m the sister who’s slowing us down, and they’re as annoyed as you’d be if your brother had a tantrum in the parking lot of a movie theater. Those moments, they remind me I’m still just Miley and I’d better get a move on.

Miles per Hour
     
    W hen Hannah Montana proved a hit, life sped up for me and my whole family. It used to be that if I only had an hour to shop at the mall in Nashville or wherever, I felt rushed. How could I be expected to score the perfect jeans under such strict time constraints? Now I saw how much I could accomplish in just one hour. I could give an interview. I could write a song. I could learn calligraphy. I could get to level Hard in Guitar Hero. (I’m stuck at Hard. I’m not even that great at Hard, and I play Guitar Hero for at least twenty minutes everyday.) A free hour was now a huge amount of time to myself. It was a luxury. You start to respect time a lot more when people constantly want to take it from you and you’ve got to decide what to do with it.
    On the other hand, I really hate how aware of the passage of time I am now. I try not to feel like I’m on a clock. I like taking my time. If I’m getting dressed for the day, I want to make sure I’m comfortable. And I’m striving for a pretty high level of comfort. I might have to try on several different pairs of sweats before I settle on just the right ones. My mom’s mellow too, but ever since our life became full of all