YOU'RE Out Of Order

When was the last time you saw a stranger on the train who wore something that you thought was nowhere close to stylish or just completely ridiculous? 

Do you think this way often, as shittily as I do? Maybe we're just jerks, but I've been trying to tune down my judgmental thoughts recently because I realized that I had been handing out free [and often incorrect] snap judgments like an underpaid member of a nightclub's street team dishes out poorly designed flyers. 

Have you spent time in Allston? I know, it's packs of Hipster college kids are sometimes unnerving, but I try to look past them to a place where I spent a large part of my 20's and remember that when I hung out at places like The Draft and Model, I was just trying to fit in, too. I noticed lately that I've been judging so many of these kids for doing the same things, and acting in the same ways that I once did.

After ditching the plugs and lip ring that I thought would tarnish grown-up Alicia's face value, I think I did okay, but I miss them.

Then I start to think about how many of my friends still have them. 
AND ARE HEAPS MORE SUCCESSFUL THAN MANY WELL DRESSED OLDER PEOPLE.

The girls that wear crazy, floral print leggings with holes in them that give a sneak peak of lovely young skin that you adore hating? I spent a long while finding reasons to dislike their awesomely stylish outfits. I realized that I've only been jealous of them. I know plenty of fun and talented adults in my social circles that make me totally envious of their progressive and creative fashion sense. Have you met my fucking friend Capricia??

I know incredible Research Scientists who proudly display their tattooed sleeves, and an  amazingly accomplished Designer/Engineer who wears the tightest shorts you've ever seen, AARON PANONE.

My Boyfriend is at the desk next to me right now, on the horn with WBUR and discussing creating a promotional film for them. And the tee shirt he wore yesterday had the word, "things!" written on it with permanent marker.

My point is that you can never judge a book by it's cover. As a sick kid, you'd think I'd try a little harder not to lose sense of that. People have treated me differently for a long time based on how I look. I'm small. Have you any idea the number of strangers that have actually walked up to me and offered up criticism and open speculation about my weight? I'd tell them to piss off.

Now I just have to remember to say that to myself when I start to judge others.

Because without Steve's fancy-pants cameras,
 this is what I have to work with.

You've Come A Long Way, Baby

Stale Cabbage is my baby. 

This is our 200th post.

It may have taken a while to get here [almost two years!], but I couldn't be happier with the progress. Through this blog I've been able to talk about everything that I've discovered within myself, learned about the amazing city that I live in and am inspired by everyday, and all that I've endured through Crohn's therapy. 

Thanks for listening to all of my crap. 

With great friends and family, strong faith, and a little luck...

 I battled through a sickness that almost killed me.

And I talked about it with anyone who would listen.

[Sorry & Thanks.]

Because of that sickness, I developed a better relationship with food.

I started a group for other people in Boston and surrounding areas with 

Crohn's Disease and Ulcerative Colitis who can't eat pizza on the reg. The rest of you really piss me off.

I stopped to listen, absorbing everything that I could from amazing and influential people.

And I learned that networking isn't such a scary thing. 

Put yourself out there, you'll be super happy you did.

I discovered what a great friend I truly have in my Mama.

[truly.]

I lost my apartment, jobs, and most of my friends when I got sick.

I also found that I could turn that around, and felt warmth in rebuilding what was taken.

I launched what I hope to someday call an amazing career.

[first type.]

I'm still learning to drive cars with manual transmissions.

[Hey, we're not all perfect]

I met the love of my life.

I think he even saved it once or twice.

And I continue to learn patience and understanding as I watch him on the road.

[Some new pals don't hurt during these times, either...]

 It takes an immeasurable amount of dedication to keep sane and happy after nearly coming back from the dead. I don't generally pride myself in stick-to-it-iveness, but after knowing the courage it takes to pull yourself together the way I've had to, I'm proud of my ideas, powerful emotion, and strength of character. Illness isn't something that many people understand, and I wouldn't blame most of you if you didn't think as highly as I do about the things that I've done. But I will say this: Most people are walking around with something you'll never relate to, that you're heart will never, ever touch.

Practice understanding, mindfulness, and relentless respect for those around you. The relationships that we create in this life are golden. Caring for others, even in moments when all you want to do is throw a microwave in their direction, is absolutely imperative. 

I can go on and say that without everyone I know, I wouldn't have been able to find remission and stability in my life. But... I'd be lying. The people that I love have helped me [a great, great deal], but if I didn't learn to love myself, I would still be lightyears behind. Heaps of that discovery came as I wrote this blog. Post by post, I continued to learn more about myself. I also got a free, first-look at how I fair at practicing what I preach. For other sick people, I cannot say these next few lines enough- Spend time learning yourself. Take advantage of your down time by learning everything you can about what ails you. Talk to family and friends to make sure that they're on the know about what's going on with you, and never, EVER be afraid to ask questions within your medical community. You ARE one of your doctors. 

After realizing that what you know can save your life, you'll never want to stop learning. That curiosity will continue for the rest of your life- if you're lucky. Don't push your body away.

It's your best friend.

I love mine.

I hope you love yours, too.

I Yam Who I Yam

I watched an episode of The New Girl last night that made me think about how others might see me. In this series, Zooey Dechanel's character, Jess, is a teacher. She is silly and innocent and doesn't seem to have a clue about 'normal' social interaction. She sings through her conversations, and dances like absolutely no one is watching [while they're standing right next to her]. I like that. If this show teaches us nothing else, it gives us reason to believe that it's alright to behave as you'd like. You're you. Why try to be like anyone else? As long as you aren't talking to the grocery cashier about whether or not she likes wearing thongs, or peeing on the feet of the dude waiting in the elevator with you, I think you're doing just fine.

In this particular episode, Jess meets a girl named Julia, who's a little on the colder side. Julia doesn't like Jess because of her childlike demeanor. Jess tries to show her warmth by sharing cupcakes, but to no avail. At the end of her rope, Jess confronts Julia, ending her rant with, 'And my checks have baby farm animals on them, bitch'.

Last night, on my way to the Boston House of Blues [to see Feist!], I saw a baby bird that had fallen from his nest and died. I wanted to take a moment and mourn for it. It didn't strike me as an odd thing to do, it didn't make me feel embarrassed or weird to have cared the way I did. It wasn't even until Steven asked, 'Do little birds come and help dress you in the morning?' [Another Jess & Julia reference], that I thought my behavior might have seemed strange to others.

The more I thought about it, the more I realized that I don't frigging care what other people think. I DO feel bad about hurt or dead animals. I AM super sensitive when it comes to a lot of things, and cry when I think that something is so absolutely beautiful that it moves me. That's the way I'm built. It's a huge part of what makes me ME. 

Do you have sensitivities that you think other people just don't understand? I started reading this book:

It had been sitting on my bookshelf for years, and I've only now just gotten to it. Steroids make your mind mushy, and you become more and more sensitive to everyday situations when you're taking them. Reading literature like this, that reminds you that you're not the only person who has issues with sensitivity, really helps to strengthen the faith that you have in yourself and in your thoughts. 

I'll always want to cry a little when I see that something has died. Especially baby birds. I just will. I'll probably always cry at Hallmark commercials too. I can't feel bad about that, because it's my norm. Someone with a less sensitive personality may have it easier in life, but I'll take my sensitivity over that any day. I like feeling all of my feelings.

peep.