These Are the Days

{Disclaimer: I started to write this post over a week ago, and am just getting around to finishing it.}

So here's the thing. This morning one of my Facebook friends posted an article about being a mom and living in the moment, etc. 

And, I get it. It's hard to be a mom. I can only imagine. I watch my sister and sister-in-law do it on a regular basis. I watch my friends do it both in person and from afar. I can not imagine that it is easy having another person rely on you for everything they need. Hell, I don't even have a pet for that reason. 

But not living in the moment is not reserved for moms who are too overwhelmed to appreciate the beauty of life. It is something that every single person struggles with. 

I am single and child-free, and most days I am overthinking things so much that I don't even know what fucking moment I'm in.

I recently visited a friend who struggled with depression for the last few years. She's had some shitty things happen in her life, and to help her deal with it, she got on medication. And it helped. But she read something in the last few weeks that made her think that maybe she could change her perspective. She read something like, in order to find peace, you must first practice faith, hope, and thanksgiving.

Sounds easy, right? 

Think about the last time something bad happened in your life. Whether it was the death of a loved one, not getting the job you wanted, or anything else that upset the balance of your life. What was your reaction? Did you sit down and thank God for what he did give you? Did you ask him why he would do that? Or did you start to question your faith?

I don't typically get religious on here, and I don't mean to now, but I think this a point that needs to be made.

When we practice faith, hope, and thanksgiving; we are ultimately happier. If every morning you woke up and made a list of things that you were thankful for. And did the same thing before you went to bed, don't you think you would be generally happier? I mean, your day would begin and end in the most positive way possible.

Try it for a week.

When we live in the moment, when we try to truly experience everything that is happening to and around us, when we are thankful for the simple things, I think we are more at peace.

I started dating someone recently. It is still new and mostly exciting, and I think I've learned as much about myself since meeting him, as I've learned about him.

It's such a fun process. Getting to know someone new. And, for me, getting to know myself through that person.

Bringing it back to the original start of this blog:

When I read that article that my friend posted about being a mom, I got upset. I get so tired of people acting like because I'm not married and don't have kids, my life is somehow less. Or even easier. 

And then I realized, I'm not doing myself any favors by getting upset. The thing is, I love my life. Don't get me wrong, I have my challenges, but in general, my life is pretty great. 

I'm visiting some friends in Denver this week and one of them said to me the other day, "You have such an awesome life! You just live it."

And I do. For all of my Type A/scheduling crazy, when an opportunity arises, I try to take it. And in the end, I try to have no regrets. 

It's Legal Now

I've been meaning to tell this story for some time now.

Towards the end of last year, I learned about a mentorship program through a local nonprofit and I just knew that I needed to sign up for it.

In order to do that, I needed to get fingerprinted at the police department. The day that I went in, I happened to be wearing the ring that LaVa gave me for Christmas.

It isn't a diamond ring and I wasn't wearing it on my left hand. These details will be important in about five seconds.

The city where I work uses police volunteers to do the fingerprinting. So I was dealing with an older gentleman - probably in his late 70s.

As he was dipping my fingers in ink and pressing them onto the paper, he was making conversation. On the fourth finger he asks me, "who made you that ring?"

Me: It was a Christmas gift from one of my girlfriends.

Him: Oh. What did you get her?

Me: Umm. I can't actually remember.

Him: I guess it wasn't very meaningful. Are you guys serious?

All of the sudden I realize that he thinks I said that my girlfriend gave me the ring. There's no way I can get out of this now. And certainly no way to tell him that I got LaVa a sleep shirt that says, "The Snuggle is Real."

By this point we are on to the second hand and I'm hoping that we can get out of this conversation before it gets any deeper.

Wishful thinking.

We sit down to finish the paperwork and he keeps asking questions. Do we love each other? Are we going to get married? You know that's legal now?

I tell him that, no, we aren't getting married. He asks why. Then says, "you're not sure yet, are you?"

Exactly! I'm not sure I am an actual lesbian, Sir! I told you that one of my girl.space.friends. got me this ring. Not my actual girlfriend.

Of course, I didn't say that. I just smiled. Then he asks, "is your family ok with it?"

We were so close to being done. I just said that they were. Though when I left there and called Match to relay the story to her, I decided that I should have started crying and said, "no. I haven't been able to tell them."

Damn, We're Mean

So, here's the thing, I was prepared to tell you a most hilarious thing that happened to me today, but then one of my Facebook "friends" posted a link to a blog with a pretty ridiculous introduction about how she didn't agree with the post. Which got me thinking about the things I'm going to say next. So here I am, laying in bed with my laptop so that as soon as I click "publish" I can shut this thing down and roll over and fall asleep.

To begin with, why would a person post a link to something that they didn't agree with? I mean, if I read something and I don't agree with it, I don't think I post it on Facebook and tell everyone how the author is an idiot. If I don't agree with something, I don't want to be promoting it to other people. 

But the greater problem here is that we women are mean. Downright horrible to each other. In one breath we tell our girlfriends to love themselves and be who they are, and in the next breath we are bashing women we don't know (or even those we do) for doing things differently than us.

Why can't we disagree without criticism?

I'm not saying that I am above all this? I'm as guilty as the next person, but why? Why do women feel like we have to put other women down in order to justify who we are?

It's bad enough that we are hard on ourselves, why do we want to make anyone feel as bad as we make ourselves feel?

I just don't get it.

Let's Get Physical...Therapy

As you know, I CrossFit.

You know this because: 

So, way back in 2005 or something, I was in a golf cart accident with BFL in which we flipped a golf cart over on its side and my right ankle ended up under the bar. 

It was an altogether bad situation in which my foot/ankle looked like this at the end of the night. 

It actually got worse than that, but I quit taking pictures. I had a number of x-rays done, but there were no breaks or features and it eventually healed. (Though you can still kind of see the scar from where the bar burnt me.)

So, since then I've had a few problems with my ankle. Nothing serious, just knew it was there if you know what I mean.

There are certain movements in CrossFit that are worse than others and my pistols are pretty bad because of a lack of flexibility of that ankle.

Additionally, in the last three months or so, I've kind of had a nagging pain in my right hip/lower back area. 

So, I decided to break down and see someone about it.

That someone happened to be the hot coach at the gym. Who also happens to be a doctor of physical therapy.

I didn't think anything was seriously wrong, but I was hoping he could recommend a few stretches and we could work out a program that will get me back in top form. 

So flash forward to last week. I show up at the gym for my session and meet up with the coach. (Did I mention he's hot?!?!)

I know him well enough that I'm not uncomfortable talking to him, but I also don't mind it when he takes his shirt off.

He's also like 8 years younger than me, but that is neither here nor there.

We get the session started with a short assessment. I explain to him the issues, he has me do a couple of exercises. He asks me to walk away from him and then walk back towards him.

I do that. When I get back to him he says, "How are you with running?" I ask, "Like as far as pain?" He says, "Yes. I know you're a very good runner." I melt into a puddle on the floor. (I just love it when people compliment my semi-athletic abilities.)

(In other news one of the guys at the gym told me this morning that I'm very impressive with power and agility movements. I open-mouth kissed him. Just kidding. But I did blush.)

So, then we go back to his "office" where he asks me to lay on the table, face up. I follow his instructions, and as is customary for me when I lay down, I close my eyes. He messes with my ankles, stretches out my legs, moves around a little, no big deal.

Then, without any warning whatsoever, he moves up to basically push on the edges of my pelvis.

Now I want you to stop right here and take a minute to familiarize yourself with where exactly that is on your own body. 

Now I want you to think about the last time someone touched you there without warning.

Now I want you to imagine he looks like this:

So, I made it through that. He had me get off of the table and do a couple more exercises. Then he told me to get back on the table, laying on my stomach, with my toes hanging off the edge of the table.

Fine. I can manage this.

He starts again stretching out my ankles. Then he is feeling my calf muscles. Things are going great.

Then he moves up to my spine and kind of massages up to the middle of my back and then pops my back. Nice.

Then...he touched the butt.

Seriously, all I could think about was that line on Nemo when he touches the boat and the little baby octopus says, "He touched the butt, he touched the butt."

At this point, I don't even know what is happening. He kind of rolls the top of my pants down and I assume he is going to massage my lower back/hip area. 

Then he asks, "Are you on any medication? Blood thinners or clotting meds?"

Uh, no.

"How's your blood pressure?"

Normally? Or right now after you touched my butt?

Then we moved into a dry-needling session, which was mostly awesome, and then there was a soft tissue massage on my calf muscles.

I told one of the girls that goes to 5 am with me that I almost felt like I needed to pay extra.

Losing Myself

I texted Big T this morning, I'm afraid I'm becoming cynical and untrusting.

I've had a rough week.

2014 is not starting the way I hoped it would and I feel like my soul is slowly dying.

I don't want to be angry and cynical. I like the loving and caring Airplane. The one who laughs all the time. Who believes that people are inherently good. 

The truth is, I don't think I really thought about what starting a business was going to do to my life. 

I have so little time to do anything.

I have taken on more responsibility at work because I need mental stimulation and job security, but it probably wasn't the best time to do that, as I am trying to start a business.

A business that is pretty close to the tipping point of either stopping growth or taking the next step.

I need to write a business plan. But I can't even find 10 minutes to write a blog. 

It turns out that 2014 is probably going to be the year that I finally learn how to say no to the things that are not priorities.

I'm afraid that those are the things I've been wasting a lot of time on.

Someone told me that they thought it was a sign of growth. I feel like that is a nice way to say that I'm getting old and grumpy.

Tonight I was sitting at my desk taking care of some computer work and I started organizing some of the piles of crap that have been scattered around since getting the new desk and I found a book that I started writing quotes in at least eight years ago and I came across a quote that spoke to me.

"Most great men and women are not perfectly rounded in their personalities, but are instead people whose one driving enthusiasm is so great it makes their faults seem insignificant."

~Charles A Cerami

I want my driving enthusiasm to be great! I want to change the world. I want to be a person that people look at and say, "Because of you, I believed." "Because of you, I went out on a limb." "Because of you, I chose my destiny."

I feel like I'm running out of time.

Randomly Catching Up

Where oh where have I been?

I think Papa is close to disowning me for all of the days he has come to this page only to find the same sad post as the day before.

For all I know, he (and all of you) has quit even coming to this page in the hopes of a new blog post. 

It's just that I started this business and it is taking up a lot of time and growing at a rate that I wasn't expecting. And since I cancelled my cable and thought that I would have all of this time to sit at my computer and write, I have actually started reading all of the books that piled up last year while I was killing brain cells watching mindless television. (That doesn't mean I don't still enjoy some television, just not the volume that I was taking in before.) (And to be honest, it's not like I'm reading some spectacular literature, I like to go back and forth between cheesy romance novels and things with substance.)

And I was still feeling a little blah from overindulging during the holidays. My cravings for sugar were at an all-time high and I was just barely getting it back together. So I decided to do a juice cleanse. And you know what I discovered? 

Juice cleanses are not so awesome for people who aren't really into juice.

Seriously, I've never been a juice drinker. (Thanks, Match!) I mean, as we may have discussed in the past, I don't even really like fruit all that much. So why would I like juice? 

Either way, I'm hopefully back on track now and the sugar cravings will cease.

We'll see.

The Smalls children are with Match and Papa for the weekend while their parents are gallivanting on some island and today Tiny was running around the house (inside and outside) with no shoes or socks on. 

So Match asked him, "What is your aversion to shoes and socks, Tiny?"

He responded, "I like bears, so I like to be barefoot outside."

I swear we live in one of those AT&T commercials.

Attitude Adjustment

Last week I had a bad attitude.

I cannot pinpoint when it started, but about halfway through the week I was ready to give up. Just call it a year and get drunk until Jan. 1.

2013 just wasn't the year I wanted it to be. Nothing horrendous happened, but a lot of small, really kind of crappy things did. And I decided that I had had enough of it.

I opened a bottle of wine, drank one glass, went to bed, and dragged myself to CrossFit the next day.

My attitude didn't change. In the back of my mind there was always that thought of defeat. Like 2013 had beat me. The race was over.

Then today it hit me - while things may not have worked out the way I would have liked, I have a lot to be grateful for.

I've had another year to spend with three grandparents who love me dearly.

My immediate family is healthy and happy.

There are five nieces and nephews that I get to see on a regular basis who fill my heart with joy.

I have spent another year CrossFitting and improving myself.

My job affords me the freedom that allows me to start my own small business.

I have a wonderful network of friends throughout North America (and now Europe.)

And so much more…

New Rules

I interviewed for a new job on Monday.

It couldn't have gone better.

Seriously - I ROCKED it!

But I didn't get the job.

Not a lot of people knew that I was applying and interviewing for this job, but there were a handful of them.

Some of those, I told right away. Others asked how the interview went today and I had to break the news.

Nearly every person said the same thing. Some variation of, "Wow - their loss."

And let me tell you - that's nice to hear.

Rodney Carrington has a comedy bit about funerals, it goes something like:

"Funerals are awkward…They always try to make you feel better by saying, 'He's gone to a better place.' Well what if he was an asshole? What do you say then? Shouldn't have buried him in the sweater…"

So I got to thinking, were people just saying the job interview version of "He's gone to a better place?" 

I hope not.

Running My Life So It Doesn't Run Me

I'm a control freak.

I will never deny that.

It is one of the reasons that I am risk-adverse. I like controlling the end. It is comfortable.

For me, there is nothing more comforting than a detailed schedule.

(Okay, maybe some things are more comforting…)

I love to know how much time I have to do what I have to do and where I have to be when that is over. 

I run my life.

Earlier this year, I actually thought about calendaring my life down to the half hour.

That's crazy, people.

But I thought about it.

I like structure.

I run my life.

But even when I act like I'm in complete control, it is a ruse.

The truth is, if I were in complete control, I would say 'no' to the things that I don't have time for.

I would find time to do the things that are on my "someday" list.

I would cancel my cable and blog and read and keep an immaculate house.

I would run more. And eat better.

I would spend less. And budget perfectly.

I'm far from perfect, but I am trying.

Dear Diary

As you may know, I watch the TV show Biggest Loser. One of the parts of the show that I love is when the trainers work with the contestants to get to the issues that have gotten them to this point.

A couple of weeks ago, Dolvett had one of his contestants write letters to her family and friends forgiving them for the pain that they have caused in her life. 

###

Dear Society,

For 32 years, I have let you tell me what beauty is.

I have watched your perception of beauty tear people apart.

I have hated myself.

Cried myself to sleep.

Wanted to be anyone but me.

Today I change that.

Today I know that beauty is more than what a person looks like.

Beauty is found in strength - both physical and mental.

Beauty is found in joy.

Beautiful is one word with a million definitions.

Beauty is confidence.

Confidence to know that who I am is enough.

That who you are is perfect.

That what we can be is positive.

I forgive you for luring me into the trap that made me think I wasn't good enough.

I forgive myself for falling for your manipulations.

Starting today I will stand up for beauty, in all forms.

I will remind everyone around me that each of us is so much more than we see in the mirror.

That the most beautiful accessory a person can wear is their smile.

I am better than judging a person by their looks.

You are better than that.

We are better than that.

Let's change the conversation.

Let's focus on the positive.

Let's make people realize their worth does not lie in their ability to fit into a smaller pair of jeans, but in their ability to make the world a better place.

Society, I believe in you.

Will you believe in me?

Sincerely,

A Very Strong and Beautiful Me

I Had a Breakthrough. A Breakdown? No, a Breakthrough.

**I started this post a couple of weeks ago and didn't get very far. It was a hard post to write, but in light of recent happenings, it is at the front of my mind again. So here it is - old and new meshed together in one.**

Sometimes I think I live my life in movie quotes.

Seriously, if you say something that even remotely resembles a quote from a movie that I have watched, I can't help but start speaking in movie lines.

Often times, my work bestie seems to be the only one who understands what I'm talking about, but I can't stop.

It occurred to me recently that people may be taking advantage of my friendship. That while I may seem to have a tough exterior, I am actually pretty sensitive and I do have feelings.

I probably talk about my feelings more than most people, but the truth is, it's usually the positive feelings that I talk about. When I hurt, I tend to keep it inside.

Healthy? Probably not.

Reality? Absolutely.

So, I had a breakthrough - slowly eliminate the people from my life who do not appreciate me. 

Those people who only want to be my friend when it is convenient for them.

Those people who seem to take more than they give. 

Ultimately, think about me first.

Make sure that the relationships that I have are serving me too. 

Sounds easy.

It's not.

Once again, I'm not as tough as I appear. I don't like to hurt people. I don't like to be mad at people. I don't like to lose friends.

But at what point is enough enough? When do you decide that the joy you get from a person isn't worth the hurt you get from them?

November Nattering

Way back in college - which was at least ten years ago because I keep getting emails from my alma mater telling me that this year is my 10-year reunion (which can't be right since I'm still only like 26 years old) - Bridezilla and I decided that November was our month.

I honestly can't remember why now, but we must have had a bad October, and decided that November would be better so we deemed it OUR  month.

(For the record, I think I just remembered why - I'll have to consult with her on that…)

So, when I woke up at 2:27am on Nov. 1, because I was sleeping on the couch at a friend's house and I'm a stomach-sleeper and couches aren't really conducive to stomach-sleeping, the first thing I thought was, "It's officially November. This is my month!"

And I wanted to text Bridezilla, but I thought that would be ridiculous at that time of the morning, so when she texted me closer to a reasonable hour to say, "It's officially our month!" I just got super happy.

 I know that on Facebook, people post one thing they are thankful for every day, but I'm not going to do that here.

In honor of MY month - I am going to post every day. Some days it may be something I'm thankful for. Some days it may just be something I want to say. Some days…it may be a funny story.

But since writing is one of my passions, I am going to write during MY month. 

Enjoy it.

Or don't.

It doesn't really matter all that much to me.

It's Not My Fault

Two of the coaches at our gym have this little game they play. There are large cut-outs of each of them that are near the whiteboard and they will put word bubbles up randomly with "conversations" that they think are funny.

The other day, one of the coaches was saying, "It's not my fault if you don't hate yourself enough to change."

I laughed a little to myself. 

###

Recently I read the following quote from Emma Stone. When asked about beauty she responded: 

Confidence is the only key. I know a lot of people who aren't traditionally 'beautiful' - not symmetrical or perfect-bodied or perfect-skinned. But none of that matters because all that shines through is their confidence, humor and comfort with themselves. I can't think of any better representation of beauty than someone who is unafraid to be herself.

If I didn't love Emma Stone before I read that, I would certainly love her after. (But really, who could not love her after Easy A? That shit was brilliant!)

In the past two months I have had a number of conversations with people in which they tell me that I am intimidating to others (both men and women.)

Apparently it is my confidence that other people find intimidating. To which I respond, I'm not arrogant. It's not like I'm walking into a room and telling people that I'm better than they are. I walk into a room with an "I'm awesome" attitude. I'm not saying that you aren't awesome, please feel free to exhibit your awesomeness and I will celebrate it with you.

I am unwilling to change from that perspective.

Certainly if I was walking around all sad and lamenting all of the things I disliked about myself, no one would want to be my friend. So why is it bad to be the other way?

Plus, now Emma Stone thinks I'm beautiful. That freaking rocks!

Everything You Didn't Know You Needed

Last week I was meeting a friend for dinner and I was a little early so I thought I would stop by IKEA. 

Recently on Instagram, I saw someone post a picture of their jewelry displayed and they said that they had purchased the hooks and bars at IKEA. 

I was not prepared for what was to come. 

When I walked in, it seemed that my only option was to go upstairs to the "showroom." I wasn't really sure what that meant, but I figured it was where I would find what I wanted. 

It was not. And furthermore, I just kept walking in what felt like circles. Thank the TTBJ that there were arrows on the floor because I'm honestly not sure where I would have ended up. And what if there was a fire? I didn't ever see a fire exit.

Finally I asked someone who worked there about the jewelry displays, and he looked at me like I was crazy. Then he said, "Oh, I think you're talking about our belt rack. That is downstairs in our home organization department." 

Uhh - where is that? 

Just go downstairs and it is department number 7.

Wizzah-wuh? Department number 7? How many departments are down there?

The answer is a lot. A lot of departments full of all of the things that I didn't even realize I needed. But all of the sudden they were there in front of me. At such a reasonable price. I started putting random things in the giant yellow bag.

Picture frames. Bath mats. Curtain hanging kits.

Finally I made it to department number 7 - but what I was looking for was not there. I was devastated. 

I put the yellow bag full of randomness down and went to find the exit.

Not as easy as it sounds. 

I texted my friend, "I'm stuck in IKEA and I don't know how to get out. If I don't make it to dinner go on without me."

Here To Pump. You Up.

Disclaimer: I sat down to write this post last week and then quit. I have had lots of thoughts since Sept. 3 about posting, but by the time I get to the computer, it's like writer's block has creeped in and I stare at a blank page. I am honestly trying to work out an evening routine that includes sitting at my computer to write for at least a half hour a night. Bear with me as I transition.

I went to get a pedicure a couple of weeks ago, it had been months since my last full pedicure and I was very excited about the relaxation that was about to commence. I brought the book that I was reading, I had a bottle of water, life was going to be great! It probably wasn't the worst pedicure I've ever had, but it certainly wasn't great. I felt like the woman was in a rush to complete it and she was not real gentle. She was moving into the reduced tip category in a hurry.

Then it came time to put lotion on my legs, one of my favorite parts of the pedicure. As she started to rub the lotion in, she made an ugly face and said, "Muscles..." I nearly kicked her and said, "How do you like them now?"

Needless to say, she didn't get a tip.

Writing and CrossFit

The other day I was reading some Q&A from one of my favorite bloggers and authors. Someone asked her what the best way to become a writer is. She answered, "write for yourself." Among other things.

But most importantly she said, "write for yourself." Don't worry about what other people want to read. Don't worry about whether or not they will be entertained by your writing. Write what you feel.

One of the girls I work with was telling me that I should write a book. I was complaining that I didn't know how to start or where to go with it.

She said that she always hears that writers just sit down and write what is in their head and worry about organizing and refining later.

Perhaps I'll try that.

###

I was going to go a different direction with the second part of this blog, but I just got a text message from a girl that I CrossFit with and it changed my line of thinking.

I believe that I have told you before about people who tell me things that they "never tell anyone." 

Another phenomenon is that people want to hang out with me. It's not necessarily a bad thing, but sometimes I don't understand it.

When I moved up to the CrossFit class, there wasn't a 5am class that existed. Three of us who were moving up couldn't do a later class so they started the 5am class. From that point on, people have come and gone, but we have a pretty steady group of regulars that I have grown to know and love so early in the morning.

There are two ladies in particular that I see on a fairly regular basis. A couple of months ago there was a new girl in our class and one of my friends asked what her name was. I said that I didn't know, I have to see you commit to 5am before I can put any early morning effort into meeting you.

She said that she remembered starting 5am and being scared of me. 

Tonight - she texted me, "Don't tell anyone, but I think I may be pregnant."

Wait, what?!?!

I'm the person you tell that you think you are pregnant? How did that happen?

Two weeks ago, the other lady was getting ready to go on vacation to San Diego with her husband, who also comes to 5am class. Earlier in the week she was telling me that she was sad because normally their children go with them to SD, but this year it was just her and her husband. So on the last day of CrossFit before she left, we were walking to our cars together and she said, "Hey - if you have free time next week, come to San Diego and see us. We have space in the house we rented."

I don't even know how to respond to that.

I'm Not a Policeman, I'm a Princess!

I do believe I am living in the Twilight Zone.

Ok - maybe that is a little dramatic.

It's just that strange business is going on in my life.

I know I've said it before, but it is so very true that when it rains, it freaking pours.

I believe I mentioned that I was at a conference last week and there were a few potential suitors.

So yesterday, I get a text from Trainer, "I'd like to take you out for sushi and drinks."

Umm - what?

That sounds like date talk to me.

I agreed because I'm always complaining to Big T that all I want is someone to buy me dinner every now and again, so I would be a hypocrite if I turned down the offer.

His response, "Where would you like to go, my princess?"

Excuse me?!?!

Who you calling princess?

I was telling one of the girls at work about it and she said, "Someone should tell the others to watch out, a new guy is coming up from the rear....

...Wait, that didn't sound right."

Coming Down

I just made myself a "milkshake" with a frozen banana, a scoop of raw cacao powder, coconut milk, and a tiny bit of ice.

That shit was good.

In other news, I think I'm having withdrawals from the fun that I had at the end of last week/weekend.

The following series of pictures was taken on Friday night. We were heading back to our rooms for the night/early morning when Janiac suggested a cartwheel contest.

Once I start doing cartwheels, I start thinking about CrossFit, so of course handstands are next.

I honestly can not look at that last picture without laughing out loud. 

Right after it was taken, security came around the corner like a ninja and sent us to our rooms.

I thought we were following directions nicely and not creating a scene, just waiting for the elevator, when the security guard called for back-up.

And they arrived within 3o seconds. 

Luckily no one got arrested or shot with a bow and arrow.