I have the worst headache in the world. I've had it all day, and now it's so bad I can't even sleep. My mom keeps asking me if I'm worried about something - she thinks it's an anxiety headache - but the only thing I can think of is that Kim's party is tomorrow night and I'm only mildly worried that Lori Pfefferminz might try to start something. Although she totally behaved herself at Prom, so maybe that's not it after all.

My dad called tonight and it made me realize how much I miss him. He's been on the road for almost a month now. The good news is that he will be home in less than four days and then he's not going anywhere else for a while.

Talk about a full house, though. Man. I keep joking that all I want for my birthday is a Port-a-Potty, because you can almost never get in the bathroom when you want to.

Speaking of, in exactly 40 days I will be FIFTEEN YEARS OLD. Which means I'm only a year away from my driver's license, and less than two months away from taking driver's ed. Most of my friends are already fifteen and will be driving before the end of the year. I guess it shouldn't seem like such a big deal, because Tobin's been driving the entire time we've gone out, but I keep having these visions of me and Tabitha in a cherry-read convertible, the top down and the wind blowing our hair every which way, the radio blasting something fun, like No Doubt.

Oh! And that's the other bit of good news: Tab's parents are leaving for their cruise on the 28th, and Mom has finally agreed to let me stay with her for the six days, seven nights that they're gone.

Did you hear that? SIX WHOLE DAYS OF FREEDOM.

You know, journaling must really be therapeutic, because in the time that I've been writing this message, I've already started to feel my headache go away ...