When I'm sad, I just quit being sad and be awesome instead

So, it's nice that things are turning around... I am still trying to find a job that I think will be a good fit for me, and in the mean time I've done some soul searching and healing. I've TRIED to be productive, and have started a new blog about things that I KNOW, not just the ramblings of a wild woman that you see here ;) I've also tried to be productive in the creativity department, but as all of us bipolar types know, that side of us ebbs and flows. I've actually gotten a little braver, and I think with time and positive energy, maybe I can do something with that crafty side of myself. I've actually posted something on etsy! OK, so it was only one thing, but hey! It's a start. :D

We got a new puppy, Darcy, shortly after I miscarried, and she is pretty much the most precious thing ever. She has the same issues potty training that we had with Dharma, but I think that it's just my lack of potty training skills. Give me a week with a two year old, and it's a done deal, but a puppy? I'm apparently the worst puppy potty trainer in the world. It's worth it, though, because sometimes all I have to do is look at them frolicking in the floor, and I start fat laughing. They are excellent mood lifters, and were much better than anti depressants or chocolate. Reading over my last post, I think that I was in a very egocentric grieving stage. I am now more balanced and empathetic. I never knew what it felt like when people lost an unborn child. I mean, I've had friends go through things like this, and I could lend my shoulder... but now I can cry with them.  It's still hard when I hear news of my friends so excited about their pregnancy and sharing all the news about it when they are as far along as I was when we lost our baby. It's also frustrating to hear people that are pregnant complain about aches and pains and morning sickness when I miss everything about being pregnant. I miss wanting to puke every time I moved. I miss being so exhausted that I couldn't keep my eyes open, I miss my husband calling me every morning as he got off work to ask what I was craving so that he could bring me something to eat.

Although, there are new things for me to have anxiety about... like that the world is ending in December, and when it comes, I'll have to die knowing I never got to live in a finished house. haha. but I'm feeling much better. I'm hoping that maybe there will be less things hitting the fan in the upcoming year, and maybe I can just enjoy the breeze for once. This time off has been a godsend in light of all that's happened the past few months, and I am thankful for unemployment, friends who made an effort to support me and communicate with me, and to know that I'm slowly on my way to becoming a better person.... with hopefully less mood swings. :D

A Tribute to Ted L. Nancy: Food Network Email June 10 2011

First, I just want to say how much I love Food Network. I have many favorite shows, and I LOVE Chopped, Restaraunt Impossible, and Five Ingredient Fix. Right now I am watching Chic & Easy, and I have to say that I am disgusted that she got her meat out, touched it, touched her blender, her towel, her plastic wrap, and her knife without washing her hands. It's just gross. It really takes away the enjoyment of the show when I am thinking about the meat slime that is all over her hands. It seems to me as I watch food network, that health and safety practices in the kitchen are of highest importance, and I am surprised that this was not caught in editing. As someone who loves your network, I just thought you would like to know that the integrity of the food, recipe, and the delightful hostess are compromised when all the audience can think about is meat slime all over the kitchen. Thank you for your time, and please continue your excellent programming.

Sincerely, S. Salmon

One fish, two fish, red fish.... blue fish

So, it's 1:30 in the morning, and I find myself here. I haven't written in so long, but right now, this seems to be the only thing that makes sense for some strange reason. Maybe I just need to say something without saying anything... and have no one say anything in return, but still know how I feel. or maybe the clicking of the keys is just comforting... feeling like I'm accomplishing SOMETHING. Even though it's not a novel or some other piece of greatness... It will just feel cleansing to get it out.

I remember when my husband sat me down and told me he was ready to be a dad. I had inner feelings of panic because there was just so much uncertainty. I had to travel with work, I am messy, we have pets with lots of hair, I hate doing dishes, I have weird ovaries that don't always work, I am 31... my mom died at 48... what if I don't have a lot of time left. I just really didn't know if it would happen or if I could do it. All these thoughts spin through my heart and my head. I'm sure that is normal. I'm sure everyone freaks out at the thought of becoming a parent... so whatever. I don't really care to hear about everyone else right now.

When I saw that tiny heartbeat on the screen during my first sonogram, I didn't care about those thing as much anymore. The thought of growing a baby inside of me that might be sweet and shy with red-brown hair like my husband (Or loud and obnoxious like me ;) ) was the most important thing. That my husband would finally get to become a father... and this girl that never thought she would even be able to conceive was going to be a mom.... it was peaceful. Well, peaceful in a "your life is never ever EVER going to be the same! what the heck are you going to do?" kind of way. And then it was just kind of.... ripped away in a matter of seconds. This tiny thing that didn't even know me, but had to trust me was gone. And I know people go through this every day... but like I said, I don't really care about other people right now. I care that I am sitting at my computer at 2:14 unable to drink anything (and I am so stinking thirsty) because I have to have my baby removed tomorrow.

My hubs is asleep in the next room. He's tired and emotionally exhausted... and I feel bad for him because he isn't dealing with just the loss of his first child and the hopes and dreams that came along with it, but he has to worry about me and what I have to go through tomorrow...and what I am going through now. He was so worried about me the day we found out that he wouldn't let me drive home from the doctor. I was so angry because I just wanted to drive so I didn't have to think about anything else... but he drove because he was afraid I would be too upset... but he ran a red light on the way home because HE was so upset himself... bless his heart. I love him so much.

I am so scared to go through this procedure... and my heart is so broken for this tiny, tiny little thing that I never even got to meet... that never even heard my voice. But it was so loved by it's mommy and daddy... And maybe there are some people out there that don't believe a baby is a baby till it pops out of a vagina, and that is fine. Believe what you want. Because I'm here to tell you that regardless of what you believe, that little thing in the womb is a heartbreaker. I only knew about it for about a month, but Mark and I loved it for a lifetime. Little Jelly Bean will be missed.

A tribute to Ted L. Nancy: McDonald's

to whom it may concern

due to the new marketing for Chicken McNugget Sauces, I am worried that you are discontinuing HOT MUSTARD sauce. As a loyal McDonald's customer, I would like to strongly advise against the removal of hot mustard from your menu. There is already enough controversy at several local McDonald's when ordering sauces. I have been told that even if I pay for the sauces that I want, I can't have extra. This means, of course, that I don't have extra hot mustard to carry me through this crisis. I sincerly hope that you change your mind and leave hot mustard on the menu because without it, I can find no reason to eat chicken McNuggets. Sincerly, S. Salmon

A Superhuman is someone who refuses to be average.

It's up and down right now with all that is going on in our lives. I feel as if I am floundering around with no direction.Maybe when I chose the name of my mini enterprise, it was a foreshadowing of emotions to come. For all those out of the loop, I have recently joined the ranks of the unemployed. The worst part of my life right now is that Mark is watching Jay and Silent Bob Strike Back, and while I am normally all about some man humor (having a hormone imbalence) this is pretty much the worst movie ever. It's not funny. at. all. so. far. and i find it utterly distracting and definitely no Mall Rats.

This is the first time in my life that I am actually searching for a job... or something that I want to do for the rest of my life. I have always had great luck and no shortage when it came to jobs before, and this has really made me have to stop and think about what it is I want to do. I will admit the time off has been refreshing, but there is always a quick change in the wind that leads from refreshing to freaked out. It's times like these that make me miss thinking that fairies lived in tiny flowers and my biggest fear was that there was someone under my bed at night writing down everytime I took a breath. Now it's turning off my cable... which is scarier than it sounds. Not as scary as how stupid this movie is, but pretty scary. I know that trimming the fat down to necessities is a lot more than some, and I know that there are worse situations in the world. I know there are people hurting and scared more so than I will ever be. It's just that I always thought that I'd be doing something that helped me make a difference in those people's lives. I know that I still can help people, but it's much easier with financial backing and the fact that it's my job. I'll be honest... It's really hard for me to collect my thoughts and write about something meaningful with this trash droning on and on in the background, so i'll end here.

I'm just trying to push past average, find my superpowers, and move on.

though we are worlds apart, like us, there's more to them than meets the eye

I  beginning to wonder if you ever truly know yourself. 


One of my goals in life is to not become a hoarder. I often watch the hoarding specials on TLC to remind myself. The irony is that I am sitting on the couch watching TV instead of up cleaning my hoarding piles. I have this thing about collecting. I'm not sure if you have ever seen the movie "Everything's Illuminated," but the main character is a collector of things. The difference is he is an OCD collector of things, so he collected in an organized way. I, however, filled my first apartment with stuff and only had to purchase a couch, chair, and kitchen items. The majority of those things were originally housed in my bedroom at my grandparent's house. Needless to say, it was NOT organized and quite difficult to clean my room. I still have stuff there, and my grandmother is constantly trying to send it home with me... i try not to take it because we are running out of room around this house.

Now that we have started couponing, it's a whole different ballgame of hoarding. I'm having to reorganize the kitchen cabinets to make room for food and snacks because we are saving up for dooms day. With unemployment skyrocketing in the salmon house, it's always good to be prepared with snacks, air freshener, and soft scrub. Call me if you need crackers.

Brave is Short for Bravery

Every night there is a not so silent war that wages over a small, pink neck pillow. Mark and I covet this pillow, but technically it's his. His mom got it for him for Christmas, and I try to make the argument that it's PINK and there are LITTLE STARS AND MOONS ALL OVER IT, and it's GIRLY, and it is to no avail. I am not quite sure why his mom got it for him for Christmas since it is so girly, and she is not owning up to a packaging mistake. I just know that it is probably the best present in the history of the world. It's like a slice of heaven in the midst of flat, lifeless pillows, a bed that feels like it was designed by satan, and a dog that hogs the bed. The dog is Dharma, my sweet, small, Boston Terrier-- not my husband. Although, I feel like calling him a dog when I see that pillow just hanging out from under his head, not really being used... as it is now.

There are a lot of changes going on right now, and I am not sure which way the wind is blowing-- it feels more like a vortex than just a general shift. It's a high stress situation around here that we have to take a day at a time, minute by minute sometimes, and have to verbally remind ourselves that we should be sticking together not screaming at each other... That the only fights we should be having are over a pillow.

I am scared, have no control, and am not sure how much more we are going to lose... but one thing I know for sure is that I would sleep a lot better at night if he would let me borrow that neck pillow.

I have never used the word pillow in my writing so much in my life... unless you count a little ditty i made up with my friend Tyler Hankins about a blue neck pillow belonging to my friend Karen Neal. (What is it with all these neck pillows breaking gender roles?) Anyway, this is a fun song/poem, and first time being published:

She's got a blue pillow
That she likes to lay on
She likes to sit on
She likes to carry-on

She gets on the airplane
And feels kind of sluggish
She reaches in her carry-on luggage
For her little blue pillow


Still a work in progress, and you probably had to be there to get why it's so funny... but just sharing it with the few blog followers I have makes me feel a little braver, and trust me. I need a bravery boost right now.