Blogging about Vlogging

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=fKV0XjKBffg

As I've said before, I can always count on one of two things whenever I take vacation time: a health issue or something breaking down. It's grass season so I'm dealing with allergies. That's one. And, as of last night, my computer software to burn video of my last speech decided not to work. I literally burned one DVD with no problem and have not been able to repeat the process. I am baffled.

I've been working with a Flip, a digital camcorder the size of a smart phone, to record myself giving speeches and decided to dabble a bit more into it last night. I don't plan on making a habit of this, but I thought I'd try out the Blogger version of showing video within my blog. It's a step, a small one, to help me feel a bit more comfortable in my own skin.

I went from cute little girl to awkward teen to the ever-critical woman heading for middle age. I have flaws aplenty, or so I think. I can mentally pinpoint every dark circle, age spot, dimple, excess fat, and discolored hair. Now, I feel I looked better in the past. My past self would have argued I didn't look right back then. I suppose with hormones and evolution comes a fractured vanity that judges far more harshly than before. And in five years, or a week from today, I'll reason I looked better now than in the future. It's such a whacked irrationality.

But I have to get past it. I can't cringe and avoid looking at myself in video form if I'm going to improve my speech-giving ways. How can I stand in front of a group of people and exude confidence in whatever I'm saying if I don't feel it? Or address problems in delivering a speech if I don't see myself give one in playback form?

I viewed my last speech last night. Honestly, it wasn't as bad as I thought. I gave the speech with parts of trepidation -- mental hiccups, waves of inner anxiousness of getting to the next point, and trying to remember everything. Still, I hung in there and made the most of the time. I had good feedback from the club for the most part. Doing a speech makes you feel like you're drowning and watching a recording of it gives you a buoy of sorts.

The video I've uploaded into the blog is a video postcard relaying a story based on the recent event of moving. I wanted to see how I'd do with a shorter amount of time, with nothing prepared, and looking as I would normally do with casual clothes and no makeup. Here's what I discovered in viewing the three minute clip:

I blink too much. Geez, I look as though I have a facial tick. Guess it could be nerves or my allergies, but I didn't have any preconceived fears of filming. In fact, the final version was after a fourth or fifth take. Note to self: steady gaze and settle down.

Voice needs inflection. I've already heard that in the critiques of my previous speeches: use more inflection; do everything bigger on camera. Easier said than done when you live your life as a mild-mannered person who never has the occasion to sound or act like a cartoon character. I've always viewed doing the DAHHLLLINGG! mode as being forced, fake, and shoving myself into another's space in the most obnoxious way. On the fringes, in the background, observing the action, and making my presence through quiet conversation...that's me. I guess the power of vocal variety will come with time and practice.

I'm not fat. Another preoccupation of mine is whether I look pudgy, overweight, and the like. Maybe it was the lighting, but I don't see anything that would make me ashamed of how I looked in the clip. Always room for improvement, but nothing there that would make me reach for the "delete" button.

I'm articulate. I'm not sure why I don't have the Southern/New Orleans accent that was present in certain members of my family. If I have one, it's subtle. It's more audible when I tired or in a rush. It's nothing I consciously work on, but I have a noticeable absence of an accent. At least I'm not into "like" and "ya know" as crutch words. I try to focus on the storytelling and choose my words carefully. Perhaps that translates into how I speak. I'm happy I don't sound like a moron.

I'm currently working on my next speech which I may give this coming week after the Mardi Gras holiday. It's been a nice vacation despite allergies and computer issues. I found a workaround on connecting the video to my blog through YouTube how-to library. After a few hours, I learned my video was "too big" to upload directly to Blogger. Yet, I can link from YouTube to Blogger without issue. Technology is very confusing.

At any rate, enjoy the video. Cannot say they'll be plenty more where that came from, but it's a start.

Take care and travel light.

Peace and Light - Shelby Leonhard

One of my closest friend's stepfather was in the military years ago. He had the chance to talk with the base's medical examiner one day. Her stepfather couldn't understand why anyone would want to go into such a depressing and horrifying line of work. He asked the doctor what motivated him to do what he did on a daily basis.

The coroner related why he worked in his profession in these terms. He held up both his hands as though he wore surgical gloves.

"This is my house," he said. "Everyone has one. The human body is the house for your soul. Whenever I enter someone's house, I am very respectful. I must go in to find out how and why they left. And if I'm lucky, I can learn something that may help others stay in their houses a bit longer."

Shelby Leonhard could no longer stay in her house. She died today with her family around her.

Today we received email from a few sources in and outside the company about the news. My company will have the blood drive on March 3rd, in Shelby's memory, and hopefully help those in need of blood donations.

Not everyone knew Shelby personally, but her presence is felt in many places. Tonight I went to my cardio kickboxing class and happened to get to the exercise room a few minutes early. There was a new student talking with Sherian, our instructor. They were discussing how the gym needed to get better boxing bags.

"I wasn't going to come tonight," the woman told Sherian. "I've been upset all day and had to work it out." Her daughter was one of Shelby's classmates.

In that moment, I realized how small this big town is as far as degrees of separation of knowing people. I also understand her feelings because we've all been there.

We have all been a Shelby: a 14-year old student with aspirations of doing grand things and anxiously anticipating the next level of maturity. Driver's permit. School dances. The next big blockbuster hit over the summer.

We have all known a Shelby: a classmate who people want to be around and knows all the answers. Respectful. Likable. Studious. Fun to be around.

We have all lost a Shelby: through violence or illness or natural circumstances. A close relative. A close friend. A classmate. Old people have lived long and as the age comes closer to our own, the person becomes "so young". Shelby's category: too young.

I find grief to be more about emotional paper cuts than hemorrhages. I can't tell you how many times I've heard from friends on how traumatic they found going through their day and believing, just for an instant, that their loved one was still alive. It was as easy as turning down a familiar street or picking up the phone and absentmindedly dialing their number. The realization of this act is painful. Her loss will be felt for a long time and there will be many moments of this shared by many people.

I will close this entry with the official statement from the Leonhard family sent to us today:

Last night, our beautiful, brave and beloved Shelby went into the arms of God. It was a peaceful ending in a room filled with love.

Our family wishes to sincerely thank each and every one of you for the many prayers and love you have showered on our precious daughter and our family. Please continue to pray for us, especially Barrett and Reese. Please pray that Shelby's loving soul is at peace.

We would ask also that you continue to praise God. He gave us such a precious gift and we feel privileged to have taken this journey with Shelby and with all of you. She belongs to us all, but above all, she belongs now, to God.

With all of our love,

The Leonhards

Heart Day - Shelby Leonhard

Today's Valentine's Day. Candy Day. Celebration of St. Valentine...execution of the saint or the massacre...take your pick.

This year was going to be different than just eating chocolate and making bad jokes. I planned today to donate platelets for Shelby Leonhard (please Google her for more current information).

The call had been put out in cyberspace on the 14-year old's condition: non-hodgkin's lymphoma and in need of whole blood and platelet donations. My company works closely with Shelby's father and a blood drive is being planned. I learned my blood type would be useful for platelet donation. I've never donated platelets. I called the Blood Center and made an appointment to go today after work to do it.

Oddly enough there wasn't much information on the internet about the actual process. I received a tutorial when I arrived at the center this evening:

Apheresis (pronounced a-for-ee-sis) is a different procedure from the regular whole blood donation I was used to doing. If you've donated blood at a drive or at one of the blood mobiles, you know the routine: fill out questions about your personal love life, the times and places you've traveled abroad, and your overall health. Then you have the iron content in your blood tested by a finger lancet test. If you pass, you then get to spend some quality time bleeding into a bag, squeezing a stress ball, and afterwards drink fruit juice and eat cool junk food.

Apheresis, or platelet donation, is a newer medical procedure. With a whole blood donation, gravity does the work through an IV tube into an awaiting bag. This procedure uses a computerized centrifuge where the blood is divided into various parts as it's being drawn: red blood cells, white blood cells, plasma, and platelets. For those playing the "I need to know everything" game -red carries oxygen; white fights infection; plasma brings blood take-out; and platelets clot the works.

The "screening" process is where I got disqualified. First they check a blood donor's veins to see how strong they are to withstand the process. My veins are collapsible and wouldn't be good for it. Had I passed, then I would have had a test on the amount of platelets in a blood sample. Next step would have been being connected to the machine where blood would have been drawn, centrifuged, and saline re-entered to replace the blood taken.

Those who benefit from platelet donations are patients with blood disorders or cancer, newborns, burn victims, and those who have undergone transplant or cardiovascular surgery.

My "Plan B" is to donate blood during my company's blood drive. In a show of solidarity, there have been a few blood drives this past weekend for Shelby: Children's Hospital, Ochsner Hospital, and the Plant Gallery. Even though my blood type is not compatible to give to Shelby directly, any amount of blood donated will go towards her total. In other words, for every unit she uses and gets replaced through donation is one less unit on her medical expenses. And, if it is A negative or a compatible match, it will go directly for her use.

Shelby's current condition is unknown except that she is fighting and needs help from the public to give her direct assistance and replenish the stores. Twitter and the local media have been good getting the word out. Shelby is a loving daughter, a big sister, and a student at Sacred Heart. Her father is a good man and wants her to smile again. If you can help, please do.

And for those who don't live around here, I'm sure there's a person like Shelby in your world who needs help and would benefit from your support. I can't think of a better way to show how much your heart holds than to give and not count the cost.

Happy Valentine's Day and travel light.

New Year, New Posts - Jewels Blog Guest Spot

http://www.jewelsfromtherovingstove.blogspot.com/2011/01/new-orleans-restaurant-spy-fat-hen.html

I've spent the last couple of hours in mental meltdown trying to crack the "find my own blog" code. Have you ever fought with Blogger...and won? I finally got through and was able to post what I hope will be a good read for you.

I was "introduced" to Jewels (aka Julie Anne Rhodes) by my friend and fellow foodie Valerie Vallot. Val was fortunate enough to be selected for a recipe that was featured in Julie Anne's blog (a carrot ginger beer recipe, I believe).

Jewels asked for submissions for restaurant reviews as a guest blogger ("restaurant spy") on her blog. I contacted her last November on the details. New Orleans is a culinary treasure trove and I had her full support in the effort. Where to begin? I decided to go with my latest love which is Fat Hen Grill in Harahan. The URL above will take you to my entry. Writing about food is just as fun as eating the food I write about. Please check out Jewels' blog (and Fat Hen Grill if you're local).

Thank you, Jewels, for your encouragement and support of my writing. You are a beautiful person...inside and out!

Jazz Fest 2010 - Food excursions - May 2nd

My last day of Jazz Fest on the last day of Jazz Fest. As predicted, rain was expected, but that wouldn't deter me. I still had my plastic poncho and packed myself down with plate caddy, plastic bags, tin foil, and my lawn chair. Hard to believe, but I didn't consider putting on sunscreen - why bother?

Now the grillades and grits were wonderful the previous weekend - love that roux gravy. My "traditional" breakfast at Royal Blend is a bacon, egg, and cheese biscuit. Biscuits are homemade and no cheap fast food dollar biscuit could touch it. A single cappuccino with skim milk and OJ complete the food chain. Normally I wouldn't have singled out such humble fare, but it all looked too photographable.

Royal Blend's bacon, egg, and cheese biscuit with cappuccino and orange juice

When I arrived at Marconi and waited under the tent at the shuttle area, it began to pour. I didn't need to wait to get on the Fairgrounds to don protective lamination. I mentally prepared myself for arrival and what I would need to do to avoid slipping in the mud or forgetting to buy something. Remember, what I wouldn't accomplish would have to wait until next year.

There was some wait at the gate and rain fluctuated from hard to light. Once I got in, it seemed like a deserted town.

T-shirt tents were closed temporarily to wait for the rain to subside. Trying to get around in a hard rain would be a problem, so my plan was to get my T-shirt, food, and then go to the Grandstand on the bleachers out of the rain.

One of the entrees I looked forward in getting was fried eggplant with crawfish sauce. I arrived at the food booth, but was asked to return in 20 minutes. Although they were supposed to be ready before the Fairgrounds opened in order to roll on time, they were ordered to shut off the burner that heats the oil to fry the eggplant. Can't have soggy eggplant, so I strolled around and set my cellphone alarm to ring in 20 minutes time. Once my phone alerted me, I ran back to the booth and received the first order of eggplant crawfish on the last day of Jazz Fest.

Fried eggplant with crawfish sauce - serving No. 1

I didn't eat it immediately, though I wanted to. Instead I took out tin foil and wrapped it up tight and placed in a large plastic bag with enclosure. Once my T-shirt was purchased, I went in search of an entree I read about in the newspaper. There was a booth selling pies and I felt the urge to try the sweet potato pie and the sweet potato turnover. I purchased them, wrapped them up, sealed them in the bag and finally purchased rose mint tea and crawfish strudel.

As I neared the Grandstand bleachers, I noticed how they were all wet, even the ones at the top. The overhang wasn't enough to spare them and the wind was strong enough to dampen them despite the overhang. I could have opened my chair, but realized rain would come and I'd get soaked. My favorite tree next to the pond on the Fairgrounds wouldn't offer much protection either. I knew the Lagniappe Stage would have protected seats, so I found a dry one under a tent across from the stage.

I didn't know who was performing and didn't have a program with me. There was a flamenco dancing group with a wonderful Spanish guitar. I took the opportunity to eat as I watched the performance in amazement.

"The" Fried Eggplant with Crawfish Sauce and Sweet Potato Pie

The eggplant was crispy with a light herbal flavor. The sauce was creamy with ample amounts of crawfish throughout. I knew what I was expecting and wasn't disappointed. The sweet potato pie was over the moon: flaky crust with the sweet potato filling that had such a wonderful mouth feel. I compare it to the richness of eating high quality ice cream.

After the flamenco dance group was Nova NOLA, a Brazilian jazz / New Orleans strut fusion music group. I could not have been luckier since the group was wonderful (Google them, seriously) and the rain had gone from a sprinkle to zero flat. In fact, the sun came out at one point. As the performance continued, I ate the last of my vittles.

Crawfish strudel and sweet potato turnover

As you have guessed, the crawfish strudel is one of my all-time favorites and would eat it every week if I could. The turnover had somewhat of a soggy crust, but that was my fault. I purchased it early and sealed it in a bag. Condensation from the steam caused it to be soggy. There was a sweet shortbread-like taste to it and the sweet potato filling was thick and rich like the pie. I'll definitely eat another one next year.

Once Nova NOLA finished their set, I finished my food and walked out of the Grandstand into a sea of people. I wondered if the crowd was different from my "wasteland" picture I took only two hours before. Check it out:

And on my way taking this picture, I "ran into" a second line of Mardi Gras Indians. Only at Jazz Fest. Only in New Orleans. Take care and travel light.

Mardi Gras Indians

Jazz Fest 2010 - Food excursions - April 30th

Julie, my long-time friend from high school, came into town on business and wanted to go to Jazz Fest on the second Friday. Problem was the possibility of rain, but I managed to find two clear rain ponchos. Last time we went to Jazz Fest was two years ago and all we had were small umbrellas when it poured on us. Tip umbrella forward - back gets wet. Tip umbrella back - lap gets wet. Wind blows rain - doesn't matter because you're soaked. We left before Billy Joel took the stage. The clap of thunder was our signal to leave. Julie brought up our mishaps when we talked about doing the fest again. I assured her that we would leave before the rain drenched us.



We arrived from the shuttle and onto the Fairgrounds about 11am. We stationed our collapsible chairs on the front line of the "chairs only" section in front of the Acura stage. We had gone to Royal Blend for breakfast at 8:30am, but once on the Fairgrounds, the smells of seafood cooking just reawakens your appetite. We took shifts in going for food and I made a dash to the Crawfish Monica booth.




Crawfish Monica (on a Plate Caddy) with Strawberry Lemonade

Crawfish Monica is a blend of crawfish cream sauce and fusilli pasta with a dash of spice and special magic that only that dish contains. It's definitely one of my fave dishes on the short "got to get it" list at Jazz Fest.

The "plate caddy" was an invention I came across during TV viewing several years ago. I usually don't pay attention to such devices, but it immediately struck me that it would be perfect for Jazz Fest. It's been a mainstay of my Jazz Fest ensemble ever since. I usually pack a few paper plates underneath and switch out after one or two uses. There are holes to transport plastic utensils and napkins. One major drawback: large plastic cups will not conform to the built-in cup holder. It's worth being able to balance a few items on the plate than try to juggle them in your arms or hands. I always have someone ask me where I got it. It's great for transporting and eating while seated in a chair.

Shrimp and grits; crawfish beignets

The shrimp and grits entree was a new offering at Jazz Fest. Unfortunately, it fell flat in my opinion. I looked forward to trying it and the portion given was ample. The grits were lumpy in the stew and the overall taste didn't have enough spice or cajun ambrosia I expected.

Crawfish beignets are another story. They are on my short list and are a combination of hot and cool. Beignets are small drops of dough containing crawfish which are deep fried. Then a cool remoulade sauce is lathered on top. Remoulade sauce recipes vary, so trying to pick out the ingredients used for this sauce would be a futile exercise. Unless the purveyors who create the entree publish the recipe, you'll never really know.

Most of the day was spent chatting with Julie, dancing to the Dixie Cups and Earth, Wind, and Fire, and trying to duck the raindrops, which we were most successful in doing.

Jazz Fest 2010 - Food excursions - April 25th

My first day of Jazz Fest was Sun, April 25th and preparation is always key, especially going by myself. It was the first time in the ten+ years I've been attending Jazz Fest where I wasn't packed down like a mule. In the early years I came with a beach towel and cash. Now I have a litany of items in my arsenal: collapsible chair in a cloth sheath with a handle, my Old Navy purse sling (with a nifty zippered compartment for my CD player!), a cloth bag to hold my "plate caddy", and cash. But on this day, I knew my order of business was to attend a few food demos (see previous blog) and to eat what my heart wanted most after a year of denial.

Again, preparation is key and the first order of business was early morning breakfast at Royal Blend on Metairie Road. It's my hangout before business during the work week, but it's base camp before City Park opens for shuttle parking. Usually I eat light, but I was in the mood for one of their Sunday specials I never had before:

Grillades and cheese grits with a homemade biscuit from Royal Blend (204 Metairie Road in Metairie)

Their version is very good. Basically beef debris cooked down with tomatoes, peppers, onions, etc., and ladled over grits. It gave me a good start to the day since I'd be in the grandstand for a few hours.

Once I arrived at City Park, the traditional parking mecca had been moved to the Rugby Field across from the new dog park, "City Bark". Once I parked, another part of my Jazz Fest tradition commenced: slathering myself in sunblock. I wait until that moment because I don't want to sit in my car with my legs covered in goo. I don't use SPF 4. I'm far too fair for that. I get the industrial strength SPF 50 and cover every patch of exposed skin. I use baby wipes or the equivalent to wipe off my hands and leave them in the car.

My arrival in the Fairgrounds and through the gate was around 11am. I knew the first food demo would be around 11:15am, so I made a dash to the Strawberry Lemonade stand and then to get my first taste of Jazz Fest since last year:

Crawfish strudel; white chocolate bread pudding; strawberry lemonade

The strudel is flaky phyllo dough with a filling of crawfish meat, onions, peppers and all in a stuffing-like consistency. They give you a spork, but I usually eat it like a hot dog. It is spicy, salty, and wonderful. White chocolate bread pudding has a great blend of soft French bread that has been baked with custard and vanilla and then bathed in a white chocolate sauce. I'm grateful that Jazz Fest is only two weekends out of the year or I'd have serious weight problems. The strawberry lemonade never disappoints, always refreshing, and helps with any energy zap from the heat.

Once the last food demo had concluded, I wasn't hungry. But Jazz Fest is, in my opinion, like dieter's heaven -- throw the rule book out the window for a day or a weekend. You never eat like this normally. This is the food that is only available at the fest and only for a limited time. Get your feed bag on! So I'm eating what I want whether I'm hungry or not, I decided. I went past the Grandstand past the blues and gospel tents to the food area behind the crafts area. It was there I found my final repast for the day:

Peach cobbler and rosemint herbal tea

Just what I was looking for. The cobbler has a hearty crust, fat peaches, and just enough balance of nutmeg, cinnamon, and sugar. The rosemint tea is a popular manufacturer's blend with a hint of mint. I always add lemon juice offered at the booths and use my personal favorite sugar substitute.

Now I haven't mentioned prices and don't plan to because "sticker shock" is not the reason for the season. This is my vacation every year and normally people spend more and eat more than they normally do. I buy beverages that are created, not bottled. I eat whatever I want without fear of counting calories or pennies. Life is too short to get stuck on trivialities and it's important to support the local culinary talent by tasting their wares.

So if you need permission to do what you normally wouldn't do, then I grant it with all my heart.