I held so many people in my suitcase heart.

We had another history exam last night, and it was ridiculously easy. That is, until I was talking to Amelia afterward and we realized how tricky Pendleton was about it. Every question was designed specifically to trip us up - a true/false question, for example, would be true except for one sneakily-crafted word that made the whole thing false. Most of them I caught, but there were a few that Amelia and I talked about afterward that one of us hadn't noticed the trick in and had therefore gotten it wrong. He was so proud of himself for it, too - he kept pacing the aisles during the quiz and saying, "I'm not gonna tell you which one, but be careful about one of those true or false questions.... look at the date, people... oh I'm mean." And then he would chuckle mischievously. Well, even with a few stupid mistakes, I'm pretty confident that I got an A. Darn that endearing man and his sneaky tricks, though.

We went to Starbucks afterward and sat and talked for a few hours... went back to Amelia's house and made nachos, y'know, the usual stuff. I got home at about 11:30 and when I walked through the door, Dad and Mom started chewing me out. "Not acceptable," is what Dad says, while Mom is a little more intent on guilting me: "I was about to call the police!" I say 'chewing out' but it wasn't really... I guess I should have let them know I'd be home later. It's just that I've been out late every night of the semester, it seems like - in fact, I'm gone all the time. Usually it's fine but then sometimes they randomly decide to get upset about it, and it catches me off-guard. I understand that I'm the baby and all that... but I'm on my own pretty much all the time. Twenty or thirty minutes past a curfew (which was never a vocalized rule, anyway) shouldn't be a big deal.

Okay. Teen-rant done.

I've been kind of sick this week, and then Friday at rehearsal I completely lost my voice. As in, completely gone. Saturday I had no voice whatsoever and Sunday wasn't much better, unless I found the right pitch and volume to talk at. It was amusing... but rather frustrating, alternating between squeaking and rasping things at people. I spent Sunday with the Mitchells, and we went to see some friends of ours in Thoroughly Modern Millie. (Which was really fun, by the way - but I don't believe I'll ever accept anyone other than Julie Andrews as the part.) I used to live for having people over to my house, but over the past year or two I've gotten very used to feeling at home in the houses of certain friends. The Gutierrez's, especially - since they're so close to school, I pretty much live there during the semester - but also the Mitchells. I suppose when someone teaches me how to use their coffee-maker and where to find everything that coffee-making entails, that is when I know I belong. I feel at home in these places mostly because the people there are close friends, but I think it's also because they're relatively big families who always have things going on in the house. It's always quiet here, and it's rare that there are ever three of us here at a time. Mostly just late at night, but that's when Mom watches the news and Dad falls asleep on the couch. I don't like the news, and anyway, there's nowhere comfortable to sit once Dad's sleeping there. So I wind up writing things late into the night, or else listening to music in my room. I wish it wasn't that way, but it's gone on for so long that I don't know what else we'd do at nights, if not this.

Speaking of night. I've been having trouble sleeping lately - just a lot of things on my mind, I guess - but for the last two nights, the moon has been just outside my window so that I can see it when I'm lying down. Staring at the moon and the clouds that pass by it is a nice way to fall asleep, once you do.

Seeing the sun rise over the mountains when you have to wake up at 6:30 isn't so bad, either.