Miles to go miley cyrus pdf free download

Which wasnt bad, in my mind. I loved the animals, and I loved hanging out with my cool big brother, Trace I call him Trazz , my amazing big sister, Brandi, my little brother, Braison I call him Brazz , and my baby sister, Noah when she came along.

But my mom wanted me to have some friends besides horses, chickens, and my brothers and sisters. Not in that order. Okay, maybe in that order. Just kidding, guys! Since Mom had loved cheerleading as a kid, she wanted me to give it a try.

The first day I was supposed to go to practice, I was not happy. I begged: Please dont make me go! Whats wrong with having horses and chickens and little brothers as my only friends?

Maybe my mom was right about the whole farm-makes-you-shy thing. They wont let me down, they wont laugh at mesure, they smell a little sorry, Brazz but thats okay. Im not shallow. It may not be obvious from my life today, but being around new people makes me anxious. Just the idea of walking into a room of strangers keeps me up at night. Anyway, I knew that my dad was on my side about the whole not going to cheerleading thing. He traveled so much that he just wanted us kids around whenever he was home.

But my mom stuck to her guns, and I went. And because moms are right way too much of the time, I loved it instantly.

Don't tell my mom I said that! Cheerleading took a lot of time. A lot. I was at the gym every day. We worked out. We tumbled. We practiced two-and-a-half-minute routines over and over and over again. I became best friends with Lesley and the other girls on the team, and my mom became friends with their moms. We traveled together to competitions, stayed in motels, swam, goofed around, did our hair and makeup with our moms, and had intense, incredibly hard-core competitions.

I was really into it. One time I got really sick right before a competition in Gatlinburg, Tennessee. I could not stop throwing up. You know, one of those stomach things where even if you take a sip of water, you retch?

Yeah, it was bad. But how long could it last? I was sure Id be better in time for the competition. So I made my mom take me, and I spent the whole four-and-a-half-hour drive lying down in the backseat with a garbage can next to me, sleeping, throwing up, and sleeping some more. We got to the hotel in Gatlinburg and I was no better, but I still wanted to compete.

My coach said there was no way I could do it. She tried to stop me, but I insisted. I knew I could do it if I pushed myself. Thirty minutes before we were supposed to go on, I pulled myself out of bed, showered, and we drove to the meet. I went out, did the routine, walked off the stage, and threw up into a trash can.

But I did it. And that was what mattered to me. When we would get in the car after every competition, even if we lost, my mom would say, Heres your trophy! Growing up, my room was full of trophies.

All from my mom, the biggest and best fan a girl could have. I you Mom! I may not have deserved every single one of those trophies, but the Gatlinburg trophythat one I know I earned.

Or at least to catch me when I was flying through the air, which was a little more likely than reaching the ends of the earth, anyway. But at school I had no such safety net. And things were getting worse. I still have no idea how the Anti-Miley Club got a janitors key to the school bathroom, but one day I was on my way to science class, and they shoved me in and locked it.

I was trapped. I banged on the door until my fists hurt. Nobody came. I tried to open the window, but it was stuck. Note to self: in case of fire do not attempt to exit via bathroom window. It dawned on me that everyone was already in class.

Nobody would come to use the bathroom for at least forty minutes. I sat down on the floor and waited. I spent what felt like an hour in there, waiting for someone to rescue me, wondering how my life had gotten so messed up. Where was a cell phone when I needed one? I looked at the line of stalls, the row of mirrors, the unyielding windows, and thought about my two fish, swimming around and around in their bowl.

How had I gotten here? Had I asked for it? Did I deserve it? Would it ever end? I knew the capitals of all fifty states. I could do a back handspring on the sidewalk. But I had no clue as to why this was happening. I was friendless, lonely, and miserable. The only bright spot was that if I had to use the bathroom, at least I was in the right place! When Disney Calls It was as if someone wanted to make it up to me for what was going on at school.

Not long after the bathroom incident, I got another surprise callthis time it was Disney saying they wanted me to come to L. It was the middle of the school year! I could miss schooli. But then I remembered. I also had major cheerleading commitments. Missing just a single practice was a big deal. The choreography relies on everyone showing up.

After all, you cant have a pyramid without the top girl. Don't try this at home! Actually, its even worse to try making a pyramid without one of the bottom girls! Somehow my mom got me excused from practice. I flew to L. My mom and I looked at each other. We had thought I was a finalist.

I guess we thought wrong. We joked that they had enough Hannahs there to name one after every state, not just Montana. I know, I knowbut we had a lot of time to kill in that waiting room. The waiting room for the Hannah Montana auditions was like the waiting room in a busy doctors office. There were old magazines, odd smells, tons of tensionand we were all about to be examined. Some of the moms who were waiting with their daughters had way too much perfume on, giving me an instaheadache.

The only saving grace was that at least we wouldnt have to get any vaccinations. Although, I was pretty certain that not getting the part would hurt at least as much and the pain would last longer. As we waited, and waited, and waited some more, I could see that some of the girls and their moms were sizing us up. My mom, thank goodness, has never been that mom. She ignored the looks, but I couldnt. It was tense in that room. You couldnt help thinking about who was prettiest or best prepared or most talented.

As I sat there, I snuck peeks at the other girls. I didnt recognize any of themnot that I expected to. I had done some auditioning, but I hadnt exactly been going all over town.

Most of the girls were older than I was and much taller. Many of them were beautiful. Some had shiny black hair. Others had long blond hair. Some had glowing white teeth. I looked at how they were dressed, how they did their makeup, and how they wore their hair. On looks alone, I was pretty sure most of those girls could land the role hands down. And I could only imagine what kind of experience they had had.

I felt way out of my league. Auditions were by far the most scary, nerve- racking moments I ever had. Each one was like taking a test. I liked to perform, so I was always excited, but I also always really wanted the job, so the anxiety was huge.

But on that particular day, the cheerleader in me woke up. My cheerleading coach, Chastity, was really tough. Theyd cut me slack because my dad was somebody. Not Chastity. If I messed up, she made me run laps just like everyone else. If anything, she was tougher on me. I was afraid to flyto be the person at the top of the stunt who soars through the airbut she had me work one-on-one with the stunt trainer. I wasnt the best tumbler, but she made me practice until my back handspring was just right.

I bounced off my head until I felt like Id been spinning in circles for hours. Chastity didnt care how long it took me. She was proud, so long as I didnt quit. She always said, Cant is not a word. Chastity taught me that when I wanted something, I had to work hard for it. I wanted this part badly. Who was to say that these polished L. When they finally called my name, I was ready. In the audition room, I faced a panel of ten people. I stood there, dressed in my short little skirt and T-shirtAbercrombied out.

You want them to remember you, so I made sure to be outgoing. Um, it wasnt exactly a stretch. For once in my life, it was good that I talked too much. I just had to make sure to be myself instead of letting my nerves take over. The casting people asked me to read from a script, then to sing. I sang a little bit from Mamma Mia! As at most auditions, they gave me comments, like Can you try it a little brighter? Its funny, I was so nervous and had no idea then who those people on the panel were.

They were just intimidating strangers. Now theyre the people I work closely with every day. When I came out of the room I had no idea how Id done. And I couldnt relax yet even though it was over. Sort of. The most stressful part of the whole auditioning ordeal is that you cant go home until they tell you youre done.

You have to hang out in the waiting room, watching other girls get called back in, wondering if youre going to be called in to read something different or to sing again. And you never know why youre being called back in. Or not being called back in but still made to stay. Do they like you? Do they love you? Does one person hate you? Are they worried about your hair? Your height? They never give you the tiniest hint of hope. I did my best, but we ended up going home to Nashville with no good news.

And then, a couple weeks later, I got another call. Youre a finalist! Okay, this was the real thing. Maybe I had my ticket out of sixth grade after all. Again I begged out of cheerleading. Two strikes. One more and Chastity would kick me off the team. Sound familiar? I was starting to feel like one of those balls thats attached to a paddle by a rubber band. Each time I got smacked away, they pulled me back just so they could smack me again. Well, it was a little gentler than that.

But I was eleven. It was a roller coaster. Is that a more friendly metaphor? In the faces of those thirty girls I saw the grim reality. I had barely made any progress.

I was definitely going back to sixth grade. We had a huge cheerleading competition coming up, so I threw myself into training and tried to forget about bullies and auditions. My life only sucked from eight a. Then I went to the gym and pushed it all out of my head. And then, when I had just about really and truly given up hope, we got another call from Margot the talent agent. Disney wanted to see me again.

What were they doing, cutting one girl at a time American Idolstyle? This time there was no shrieking and disrupting of the animals peaceful farm life.

Instead of feeling excited, I just felt tired of it all. I told my mom I didnt want to go back. I figured it was going to be the same thing all over again.

I was completely focused on cheerleading. My team wanted me. My team needed me. My team didnt make me fly cross-country over and over again only to send me home with nothing. My mom was over it too. She said it stressed her out. But then Margot told us that Judy Taylor, the head of casting, had said, You cant pass on this. Theyre really serious about Miley. Theyve seen so many girls, and they keep coming back to her.

Missing this competition would mean dropping off the team. I had to choose between cheerleading and auditioning. To this day its the hardest decision Ive ever had to make. My mom said it was up to me, but she wanted me to have perspective, to make an informed decision.

She said, Honey, are you sure? I think youre amazing, but the chances of getting this role are still slim to none. You have no experience. We already know they think youre too small and too young. You have the rest of your life to do this.

If you go, you may end up sacrificing cheerleading for nothing. My dads advice was simpler: You have to go. This part is meant for you. He really has a lot of faith in that intuition of his. They told me to take my time and think about it really seriously. So I thought long and hard. Cheerleading wasnt just my passion. It was my salvation that year. It was the only way I was surviving sixth grade. If I quit and then didnt get the part, which we all knew was the most likely sequence of events, Id be left with nothing.

But I didnt plan to be a cheerleader for the rest of my life. This was my chance. And I was scared out of my mind. I have always believed that the greatest opportunities in life come with fear and risk. I realized that taking the risk was like soaring in a cheerleading stunt and having faith that someone would catch me. Maybe cheerleading had been training me for this moment.

I knew it was too much to hope for, but Hannah Montana was my dream role, and it was closer than ever. I wasnt about to give up now. It was back to L.

The dreams that you hold for your future are what you dream about at night. Theyre always at the back of your mind. Theyre what your heart desires. They keep you going.

Accept reality and have a backup plan, but always follow your dreams no matter what. She was gorgeous, with long, blond hair. Things did not look good for me.

The other one was sixteen years old. I was like a foot shorter than both of them. When I got called into the audition room, I read scenes for the executives over and over again. I sang songs for them. I talked to them so they could get to know me. I read more scenes. I sang more songs. I read songs. I sang scenes. I would have hung wallpaper while wearing a tutu if I thought it would prove I was meant to play Hannah. It was a long day, and finally it was over. My mom, my maternal grandmother Mammie , and I were staying at the Universal Studios theme park so wed have something fun to do if the trip turned out to be a bust.

Auditions done, we went to dinner at a restaurant there called Daily Grill. We sat down, got our drinks, and I promptly spilled Mammies entire Dr Pepper all over my white skirt. Life imitates sitcoms imitating life. As I was yanking paper napkins out of the dispenser as fast as I could, Margot called.

She and my mother talked a little bit, then my mom hung up and turned to me. They want us to go back to the studio right now, she told me. They want to test you with another girl they have for Lilly. Margot said we should drop everything. I looked at my Dr Peppersoaked skirt and said, I thought I already did. I couldnt go like that! But they were sending a car for us! We sprinted back to the hotel so I could change before the car came.

My heart racing and palms sweating I know. Real Professional. She and I whispered excitedly. We were the ones! Werent we? It seemed so promising. At the end I thought they were going to tell me I had the part. Instead, they just said thank you and sent me back to Nashville. At first I made my mom call the agent every day to see if there was any news, but there was never any news.

Weeks went by. Finally, we just stopped calling. The Cafeteria I never told anyone at school that I was auditioning in L. When I came back from L.

Can bullying be normal? These were big, tough girls. I was scrawny and short. They were fully capable of doing me bodily harm. As if they werent already scary enough, then they sent me a note threatening me if I showed up in the cafeteria at lunch the next day. Im not going to give any bullies out there ideas by saying exactly what they threatened. Lets just say it wasnt nice. And I know it sounds kind of silly and clichd to be scared of a little note.

You just have to trust me. These girls werent messing around. Id been trying to handle the bullying all by myself this whole time. I didnt want to show my fear, not to those girls or to my friends or to my parents. I never cried in public, at least.

I didnt tell my parents. I tried everything I could think of. Sometimes I tried to defend myself. Sometimes I apologized. Sometimes I just walked away. I always felt alone. But the night I got the cafeteria threat it seemed like Operation Make Miley Miserable was escalating to a new level. More like Operation Take Miley Down. I was so scared that I told a friend from cheerleading about it on the phone.

Should I pretend to have the flu? Should I skip lunch? Should I arm myself with a ketchup bottle and prepare for battle? As soon as I hung up the phone, my dad came into the room. He sat down on the foot of my bed and told me he had overheard my conversation. I rolled my eyes. The mean girls were rubbing off on me, I guess. Dad wanted to know what was going on. I showed him the note, and told him I was pretty much scared out of my mind. Still I begged him not to do anything.

I knew if he told my mom, shed call the principal. Shes that kind of mom. If she called the principal, that was it. Theyd destroy me. Dad listened, and said he understood. But then he added, You know I gotta tell Mom. I followed Dad straight to Mom and said, Mom, I will never speak to you again if you say anything. But I could see from their faces that as soon as I went to bed, they were going to have a Conversation. I went to lunch the next day, unsure of where the Conversation had ended.

What else could I do? If I hid from the girls today, theyd just get me tomorrow. It was like an afterschool special about the runty girl who gets beat up. But instead of having a happy ending with an uplifting message about overcoming adversity, this plot would end with my living out the rest of my days a twelve- year-old hermit, friendless and alone. As soon as I sat down at my empty table in the loser boondocks of the lunchroom, three girls strutted up and stood towering over me.

My stomach churned. I clutched my grilled cheese sandwich like it was the hand of my best friend. It pretty much was my best friend those days. I was done for.

They started cussing me and telling me to get up. You know, like Get up and fight! I sat there, frozen. I didnt know what to do. I looked over and saw one of the girls mother sitting at a nearby table. A mother! And she was laughing. Had I entered an alternate dimension?!? Finally, I couldnt take it anymore. I wasnt a chicken. What could they do to me?

I was surrounded by people. I stood up, still a foot shorter than they were Why am I a foot shorter than everyone? What did I ever do to you? Before they could say or do anything, the principal walked in and interrupted, saying, Girls! That one word from the principal and all the kids in the lunchroom went Ooohh.

As in: Youre all in big trouble. Miles to go Item Preview. EMBED for wordpress. Want more? Advanced embedding details, examples, and help! Three years ago, Miley Cyrus was a virtual unknown.

Her life in rural Tennessee was filled with family, friends, school, cheerleading, and the daily tasks of living on a farm. Then along came a little show called "Hannah Montana. There are no reviews yet. Along the way, we are introduced to the characters helping Paul with his quest. And not forgetting the 'words of wisdom' and derision from Paul's anti-running friend, Richard. Bob Johnson is the grandson of hearty immigrants who all migrated to the United States from Finland over years ago.

They were all too familiar with the harsh elements of winter and the yoke of Soviet oppression. This background prepared Bob for a life of hard work, shortages, and self-dependence in the wilds of Canada and the dangers of commercial fishing off the coast of Florida.

Bob's greatest obstacles and triumphs were the same; he challenged, daily, the world of nature, trying to get it to produce abundantly. These engagements were not always productive, joyful, or even peaceful but they were honest and basic, teaching a person the values of sweat, labor and personal responsibility: traits, which are lacking in our modern society.

Bob did not choose an easy route to success but, rather, chose endeavors that require such character-building attributes as knowledge, imagination, adjudication, precision and persistence.

The hardships encountered, the memories recorded in this book are expressions of joy, love, and fulfillment. Bob is very entertaining; some of the stories he tells will inspire the reader to shed tears of laughter. With a lead from Wainwright the Fell-Wanderer, and a few beers, it was decided to walk from Derby to Malton via Sheffield - through the places where they now live.

This was a journey in a number of stages where individual strengths and weaknesses enlivened an adventure and when curiosity was still allowed to surface unselfconsciously. A relaxing and companionable walk spread over nearly three years taking in cultural attractions and a beer festival twice. A time when they continued to learn and to conjecture about nature, the weather and why things are built that way.

They couldn't decide whether this book was going to be a travelogue, a guide book, tourist information or an advert for the Yorkshire Wolds and North Derbyshire, but it doesn't really matter.

It's about the importance of friendship, trust and sharing; perhaps inspiring other old friends to try something similar - it's really worthwhile. Score: 5. The Gettysburg Campaign is in its opening hours. Wittenberg and J. It is the first book ever written on this important and endlessly fascinating subject.

Stuart left Virginia under acting on General Robert E.