If Weeeeeeeeeeeee Were a Movie

Recently I've been thinking more than usual about life, love, the universe, and bacon.  Because I've suddenly got time for that sort of thing.  Lots and lots of time.  Alone time.

Luckily, I'm good at entertaining myself.

I'm also pretty comfortable with who I am.  I like myself.  That isn't to say I don't have insecurities, because, golly, I do.  But I think I have what is at least a somewhat healthy self-image.  BUT I've been trying to figure out who I would be and/or how I would act if I were put into certain situations.  And in this instance, by situations I mean movie genre.

Here's a little mood music to get you through the rest of the post:

Hey, don't judge.  I know you all know every single word to this song.

If I was in a ROMANTIC COMEDY, I'd be the weird, quirky friend of the strong, likable female lead that ends up with the awkward best friend of the main romantic interest.  There would be a scene where we both either discover our mutual love for Adventure Time or run into each other at a Huey Lewis concert wearing identical T-shirts.  That short scene would be the extent of the basis of our relationship, because everyone would rather watch ridiculously good looking people fall in love.

This is me, in character and holding a bone.

If you looked closely at the back cover of the DVD case, you'd see a tiny picture of me.

If I was in a DRAMA, I'd be a background extra.

But I would ROCK IT. 

If I was in HORROR film, I'd be the person that still dies, but dies last because I'm far too trusting of the all-too-obvious psychopathic serial killer.  I would have met him at the cozy diner of the backwoods-y town of Why-Is-Anyone-Living-Here-Ville and accepted his invitation to check out the china cabinet collection in the backyard of his secluded, abandoned RV park.

Yep, he's definitely a killer.

That's my "I'm about to die" face.

If I was in an ACTION flick, I'd be that ridiculously annoying girl that can't do anything but was forced into the action when she accidentally got on the wrong bus in Chinatown.  Literally everyone would hate my character, and the director would think back and wonder why I was ever in the film at all, because it definitely wasn't for sexual appeal.  There would be a scene where I happen into the enemy's hideout and am captured while trying to find a place to pee in the woods.

There's also a part where they give me a gun and then regret it.

If I was in a MUSICAL, I.....

I would not be in a musical.

Well, maybe.

Annnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnyway, I think I need some new hobbies or something.  Maybe I'll start panning for gold or playing the harmonica.  Both are viable options.  In the mean time, I think I'll stick to playing my GameBoy Advance that I FINALLY decided to bring to college.

Milk Names

Have you ever noticed the names printed on gallons of milk?  I think they’re the names of the employees who check the milk.  Probably.  The quality milk quality checkers.  (I couldn’t decide if ‘quality’ should go before or after ‘milk’ so I put it in both places.)  Don’t worry, I took a photo just in case you have no idea what I’m talking about:

Have you ever wondered about these people’s lives?  Maybe I’m crazy, but I think a lot about these people on a regular basis.  The only problem with this is that I will never ever find out who these people really are.  Instead I invent stories for them.

Eric, for example, is 52 years old and has a wife and two children, both of whom attend college in the state of Colorado.  His wife stayed at home but recently started a jewelry business which she promotes on her blog.  Eric has high cholesterol and enjoys taking care of his raspberry bushes with his Shih Tzu named Tony.  Eric is actually the CEO of Western Family, and happened to inspect this gallon of milk while doing his time on the TV show “Undercover Boss.”  After doing the show, he fired an incompetent delivery guy and gave nobody a raise.  His dog Tony recently got a cataract in his left eye.

David is 16 years old and wants to be an accountant.  He lives with his grandmother, Evelyn, who got him a job inspecting milk because she’s good friends with the manager’s wife, Martha.  He works every day after school except on Tuesdays, when he has oboe lessons.  David skipped the first grade but doesn't tell anyone because he’s a bit short.  His father is a truck driver he only sees on holidays and his mother was killed in a boating accident when David was 4.

Diana is a 20 year old blonde who is originally from Kentucky, but moved to Nevada when her boyfriend, Ron, joined a band and dumped her.  People are always telling her she looks like Hilary Duff, but she just doesn’t see it.  She got a small apartment in a college town and inspects milk to pay the rent.  In her spare time Diana watches Ellen, eats oatmeal, and looks at pictures of Ron on Facebook.

Anyway….It’s been a good day.  If you asked me what I did, I might say that I went to work, did my laundry, and cleaned my room, but I did so much more, too.  I found a dead spider in my suitcase.  I danced to Ke$ha all by myself.  I watched a video of Nick Jonas playing baseball and he fell on his face.  I remembered being clever when I named my aloe vera plant Ali V.  I ate a handful of Skittles and saved the red ones for last.  I thought of some Amy Proverbs (watch for them on Twitter @amylouhilton).  I drank out of my Captain America cup while listening to a song called Captain America, and I didn’t do it on purpose.  I stepped on a pinecone.  I took a selfie of me in my shorteralls:

AND I read an amazing story written by my good friend Wes (http://inscape.byu.edu/2013/06/13/so-close-to-heaven/).  You should read it as well.

Grandpa

My grandfather, Clesse Hilton, was an amazing man.  He passed away last Thursday and I'll miss him but I'm glad he finally feels better.  He's a man of integrity and character and the perfect example of a perfect example.  Also, he's funny and hardworking and faithful and he looked like a movie star:

 

Father's Day was the last time I got to talk to my grandpa, and he told I was beautiful and gave me a kiss on the cheek.  It meant a lot to me then and it means even more now.

When the earth is covered with a blanket of pure white and much of nature is dormant, when the pace of human activity slows and a warm hearth and a good book make being inside very enjoyable, when the short days are too long and the long nights are too short, then I think Winter is the most beautiful season of the year.

When white turns to brown and brown turns to green, when seeds again promise new beauty, new food and continuity of life, when all of nature revives and shakes off the lethargy of winter, then I think Spring is the most beautiful time of year.

When windows stay open around the clock, when a cool breeze is longed for, when the road to everywhere beckons, when perspiration is socially acceptable, when rain refreshes and lightning illuminates and thunder booms, then I think Summer is the most enjoyable time of year.

When green turns brown and yellow and red and gold, when barns and bins and bottles are full and when seeds are saved, when the first fingers of frost touch mine, when six-year-olds excitedly run to school, eager to learn, when preparation ends and performance begins, when all is in readiness, then I think Fall is the most enjoyable time of the year.

Winter, Spring, Summer, Fall ---

 Written by Clesse Hilton circa 1989 (on the back of the Sept. 1988 page of the Kaysville 13^th ward calendar). 

I love you, Grandpa!

http://www.legacy.com/obituaries/deseretnews/obituary.aspx?n=clesse-snow-hilton&pid=165465015#fbLoggedOut