A Year in Review

Well folks, believe me when I say there is nobody who hates to admit failure more than I do.  It just doesn't sit right with me.  With that being said, I admit my failures as a "blogger".  It is my responsibility to provide both of my readers with the entertainment that they so crave and cannot get anywhere else.  And for the past year, I haven't done that.  I've just been busy, okay!? Anyway, for this, I offer my sincerest apologies, and a promise that I will do better.  Or not, you know, whatever I feel like.

One of the more exciting moments of my
year.  The amazing discovery that
Waffle Crisp still exists.  I'm easily
excited.  Mostly by cereal.

Now that that's out of the way, let me just say It's been a freaking year since I started this thing.  That just blows my mind.  I feel like a coma patient that just woke up wondering, "What even happened to that year?" Okay, maybe not to that extent, but still, you get the point (and a year in a coma? That's a really long time).  I don't know what I've accomplished in the past year, or even if I have accomplished anything.  But, I have a blog now, so I'm dang sure gonna find out.  Seriously, I'm going to be grasping at straws here, so if you want to read about one of the more mediocre years of someone's life, continue to read.  If not, go read someone else's blog. But please don't.


Without further ado, my life from March 2012, in no particular order.

• My beard has gone through so much in the past year.  From becoming Tony Stark to starting school at BYU, the beard has reflected change about as much as anything.  It's remarkable how much facial hair restrictions play into my life.  Whatever that says about me as a person, I'm sure it's not a good thing.  For those of you wondering, I'm fostering a goatee right now.  My work doesn't allow full beards, and BYU doesn't allow any beards at all, so I picked a spot in between and rolled with it.

• Quite possibly the only thing more transitory than my beard in the past year has been my employment situation.  The information for my taxes came recently (Is there a more boring first half to a sentence?) and I got W-4's (W-2's? R2-D2's?) from five different companies.  I've fabricated furniture, packaged posters, sold software support, peddled Costco samples, and served sports-grill patrons.  About the only thing I haven't done is any job that I actually wanted to do.  Anything for a quick buck, right?  A boy's got to eat, you know.

Photographic evidence for you that I met Justin Pierre.
Also, apparent photographic evidence for the police that I
do drugs.  I mean, look at my eyes.

• I met the lead singer to my favorite band, Justin Pierre.  I use the word "met" loosely.  He played music for me.  And hundreds of other people.  Also, he autographed my phone, which I then used to take a picture of us together.  And I asked him to get a Slurpee with me.  He turned me down, which was when things got awkward. So, I guess I met him as much as I've met half of the girls I've asked out.

• As far as actually productive things go, I started college at BYU, which is pretty cool I guess.  I'm still no closer to finding out what I want to be when I grow up, but I have discovered many things I don't want to be when I grow up (computer programmer, economist, professional wrestler (jury's still out on that one)). It's a start, anyway.

• As far as obvious things go, I turned twenty-two.  Twenty-two is a very weird age to turn.  It is significant in that it bears no significance.  For the past 6 years, each birthday has meant something. At twenty-one, you can drink alcohol, and you're really an adult; at twenty, you're no longer a teenager; at nineteen, it's time to go on a mission; at eighteen, you're legally an adult, kind of, sort of; at seventeen, you can see R-rated movies, legally, anyway.  Not that I ever saw them illegally. And, of course, at sixteen, you can drive and date (the two are probably related. My high school history teacher calls cars "beds on wheels").  So, when twenty-two rolls along, you get that "Now what?" feeling, and the answer is, "Nothing, you selfish A-hole.  You get to keep living the same life that you have been for the past year. Congratulations." Yeah, twenty-two is weird.  And kind of a jerk.

• Lastly, but not leastly, I met my girlfriend.  She's pretty cool, I guess. Her name is Cassidy.  You should meet her.  We made salt dough ornaments once.  So, I guess you could say things are pretty serious.

There you have it folks, the last year of Jordan Brice Ezekiel Sharples' life.  As far as my life goes, it was a pretty great year.  I'm sure others have had better, but they don't write about them, so you're stuck with mine.  Hope you enjoyed.

Rock on,
Sharples