It's that time of year again: time to measure my Specific, Measurable Results for the last 12 months. I declared these results on January 1, 2005.
Unlike last year, when this exercise was terrifyingly new, because I was defining the core of what I wanted out of life, 2005's list was more about refining what I wanted, and having fun creating new goals. It took some time to find 10 results that I wanted; in 2004 I had to edit or combine the list to get it to 10.
Declaring results 12 months in advance is an exercise that puts me into action. It causes me to look at the game I'm playing. Am I on the court, playing full out, or am I in the stands, watching my life? Am I playing the game necessary to achieve my declared result? I'm living a life I love when I'm playing the game full out. If I miss a result, the world doesn't end, it simply means I missed a result. But I played, and have no regrets. However, I have work to do in 2006.
10 Goals for 12 Months
1. $(X) in CSA revenues.
Result: 82% of projected gross revenues. Next year's result will be 1.5X, so I need to take even more radical action to achieve that.
2. I save $X with all credit card debt paid.
Result: Not achieved. I was close, but had to buy security deposit, an apartment full of furniture and dishes, and moving fees in September. I have already created a financial plan for 2006 to accomplish this goal in the next twelve months.
3. I visit Shambhala Center for Buddhist Meditation 15 times in the pursuit of spiritual development.
Result: I went to the center two times. I expanded my spiritual development in other ways, with two courses, some therapy, and a fantastic yoga teacher.
4. I share all household expenses with former co-fiend by end of 2005, and can afford to.
Result: not achieved when we separated.
5. 14 biceps, 150 lbs.
Result: check that one off my list.
6. 1 published project.
Result: not achieved. Project will be ready for photography in 2006, will be published then.
7. My own writing space: VV column or for-profit weblog.
Result: Achieved. tropolism.com
8. Support my own space, or expand into studio guild.
Result: Not achieved, it will be a result for 2006.
9. A place for everything I own.
Result: Achieved when I separated from my last relationship; 75% of my belongings have a home in my new apartment. Simply put, I need to buy and install book shelves.
10. Complete with the separation with my former co-fiend, ready to date again. Result: Accomplished. I am complete with the relationship ending. It was a gift that he asked me to move out: I can count 5 extraordinary men as suitors, some of whom I am dating. When I'm ready to have a boyfriend again, love will be there for me. That's a beautiful life.
I can't tell you how many of my days feel like this.
Via The WOW Report, which also loves Tropolism.
You drink green tea...I can't fear you.
The Red Eye Saloon, Custar, OH, December 27, 2005, 10:47 AM.
There is no greater love than to accept someone's friend request on a social-networking site.
The most brilliant correspondance ever:
Something satisfying about suggesting a hook-up on Xmas day...like, fuck it, Hallmark/Walmart already raped and pillaged the day, so why not? Choose a stealth day to be holy...
Kimble looks at cashmere sweater, Kimble eats cashmere sweater:
It was a gift. And it ended.
That's how I described my last relationship to a new friend last night. He was curious, and asked several questions so that he could use a classic triangulation of logic to determine what he wanted to know. I gladly gave him the answers, because I wanted him to know what he wanted to know. Because my new friend's company was a gift, a gift I know a dozen people would gladly receive, as I had gladly received it, at the best new Japanese restaurant in New York (which shall remain a secret until New York Magazine gives its identity away).
of course, there's a shooting range in the basement. but they don't open it when there's a party going on upstairs.
Contractor Holiday parties can be a lot of fun. Who knew the Italian social club had a shooting range? On MacDougal Street.
I love it when you're inside me.
I feel warm. Particularly this time of year. There is a jet engine in my head. Pumping and circulating around my skull, it runs around my heart for a while, into the arms and chest and midsection and legs and feet and nether regions. You settle there, about twice a day, grabbing my attention, until I go to the bathroom and grab myself and let one go. Twice a day.
There's something else. I feel invincible. Not just that I'm hungry all the time (and can therefore eat a lot, helping out my muscles). I have an incredible sense of well-being. At the computer, on the sidewalk, under the sheets, at a jobsite meeting. As if I can take on the world, because I have power and patience. Everyone a potential ally, no one an obstacle.
Other people notice, too, but they can't see inside, so they look outside for clues. As if the surface of my skin can tell them. I suppose it does. They tell me wonderful things about me. Some of them even ask me to share in some special time, which generally involves removing clothing. This is always a time of great pleasure for me, but I know I can take partial credit and pass the rest on to you. You could care less, which is what I love about you #2.
This feeling shows up in many places. In fact, it shows up everywhere. Like a little gerbil, running on his wheel, always pushing my little racing head and heart to grow, grow, and grow.
Make that 13.8". My bad. (ps thanks Mike for a great arms workout plan! Another gift, this time from a talented muscian, and the warmest, and hunkiest, man in Los Angeles)
How could I forget? The hottest 21yo in North Carolina gave me a visit, delicious company, and his trust when I said "It'll be fun" for the amateur go-go boy contest.
War is over
If you Want it
I just got that this song is about more than military conflict. War is over now. What have you done? Switch it up. End the fight.
People who have given me wonderful things since September:
-A new, great friend, who is a trainer and mixed martial arts specialist and submission wrestler, gave me a workout routine and nutrition advice and ongoing coaching that has changed my body, how I approach workouts, and the complete structure of how and what I eat. Think about what five meals a day that you cook looks like.
-A client and friend, who goes out of his way to compete with me on the puppy front, lent me a very expensive automobile to pick up my puppy. Without ever seeing me drive. Or hesitating.
-My former boyfriend gave me health insurance for three months after I moved out, without seeking reimbursement.
-A photographer, who has become a friend, gave me the finest post-relationship encouragement of any of my friends.
-An newly close friend, someone I used to think had masculinity issues, and who I now think is one of the most motivated and loving people I know, gave me two great trips away from town and an endless supply of love and support. And submission wrestling tips. And financial advice.
-A new friend gave me exclusive pictures that I could post to Tropolism. And a hell of a lot of laughs.
-My coach gave me incredible compliment-advice: you're a brilliant coach, and I want you to stop acting like you're not.
-My mother gave me incredible advice: you're attached to him being a close friend. He doesn't get close in the way you want to any of his friends, so you might consider accepting him for the person he actually is.
-My colleague and office mate gave me powerful feedback: You're greatest strength is that you trust everyone. Your greatest weakness is that you put up with too much crap from the people you trust.
-A hot Argentine hottie mchot hot gave me 28 minutes of his time to break in my new mattress.
Gift: something you receive from another without thought of reward, return, or even acknowledgement.
The story of biceps.
As I mentioned a couple of days ago, I've been working out like mad, particularly on my biceps and shoulders. It's all about what you consume. And a little bit of good advice from good, nurturing, intense-combat-trainer friends.
So they're small. 13.4 on a good pump. That is, of course, a full inch from where they were in August, so I'm not sniffing. Plus, they look good. But I'm committed to a different goal, much like last year's goal, and I won't have achieved that specific measurable result.
Yet, today, just now, a friend, someone I know from fire island as well as the internet, who has a bigmuscle profile I still occasionally jack off to (it used to be a higher frequency, before I met him), because he has the chunkiest, impossibly big biceps I've ever seen, told me:
Wow, your biceps have gotten huge. Good work!
And I felt like a million dollars. Nurturing, I say.
ps all work in this domain is copyright chad the minx.