Monday, 25 August 2014

itunes non-Celebrity Playlist

I stole this thought from Luke at Real Men Are Not. 

These tunes stay in pivot on my mp3 player, whether I'm grinding away, at home or in my auto. The rundown is presumably overwhelming on jazz, R&b and Soul, so if that bores you, here's your cautioning. 

Dustdaughter's non-Celebrity Playlist: 

Say Yes (live) - Floetry: I'll shun making any remarks about Marsha Ambrosius' have to seek after a performance vocation. (Albeit as per this section on Wikipedia, she's marked to Aftermath Entertainment as a performance craftsman.) While the form recorded for Floetry's disc, Floetic, is exceptionally smooth, practically controlled and mesmerizing, the live form is a visit de-power, sangin' session. She truly needs some person to say yes, y'all. 

Don't Rush Me - Jean Grae: Like Jean says in the introduction, this beat delivered by ninth Wonder simply makes you need to "sing for no reason". I know I'm excessively delicate in the matter of/Well, pretty much everything. Me as well, Jean. 

Everyone Here Wants You - Jeff Buckley, Lewis Taylor: I adore the first by Buckley and the spread by Taylor for diverse reasons. The first form figures out how to be exotic yet despairing, in the same way as a clashed beau who tempts you with one hand and pushes you away with the other. Taylor's spread skims off a great part of the despairing to concentrate on immaculate heartfelt quality. You wanna chime in to the revamp. With the first, you're propelled to sit still, listen and think back. 

Musicality of Life - Kindred & The Family Soul: - This tune makes me euphoric. I like to impact it in the auto and chime in - uproarious and wrong - then giggle when I can't exactly hit all the notes. 

Delight Principle - Janet Jackson: Why did Janet quit working with Jimmy Jam and Terry Lewis? No disregard to Jermaine Dupri yet he can't serve you the crude, uncut funk like Jam and Lewis did. Prime illustrations incorporate this track, Rhythm Nation and Control. Indeed the feature is still hot, after 20 years. What a savage execution. 

In the event that Loving You isn't right - Cassandra Wilson: Dozens of craftsmen have secured this melody, from Rod Stewart to Barbara Mandrell. This present form's off of her Glamoured compact disc. It's a ton slinkier and sexier than over adaptations. Possibly on the grounds that its instrumentation is stripped down to upright bass, acoustic guitar and a sprinkling of piano. 

Out of the Sky - Van Hunt: It's hard for me to pick one tune from Van Hunt. I think he's one of the best musicians/musical artists of the new millenium. He's flexible as hellfire - funk, balls-out rock, and soul are all a piece of his collection. This melody is simply a jam, unadulterated and straightforward. 

To My Lover's House - Joi: This tune makes me feel plastered, actually when I'm definitely not. It's a senseless, attractive, coy frolic, composed in the style of a nursery rhyme. Over the stream and through the forested areas/To my partner's home I go... Joi is so great.

Monday, 25 February 2013


Cocktail is a 2012 Indian romantic comedy-drama film directed by Homi Adajania under the banner of Illuminati Films. The film stars Saif Ali Khan, Deepika Padukone and Diana Penty in lead roles, with Dimple Kapadia and Boman Irani appearing in supporting roles. Randeep Hooda appears in extended special appearance.  Cocktail released worldwide on 13 July 2012 and received positive to mixed comments from critics, with major praise directed to Padukone's performance. The film also emerged as a major commercial success in both India and abroad. After its three week run, Boxofficeindia declared the movie a hit in India and abroad.

Monday, 30 July 2012


A cocktail is an alcoholic mixed drink that contains two or more ingredients—at least one of the ingredients must be a spirit.

Cocktails were originally a mixture of spirits, sugar, water, and bitters. It now means almost any mixed drink that contains alcohol. A cocktail today usually contains one or more kinds of spirit and one or more mixers, such as soda or fruit juice. Additional ingredients may be sugar, honey, milk, cream, and various herbs.

Wednesday, 20 July 2005

So Bored

So Bored
Wanna read, go to sleep, eat Funyuns - just do anything other than work right now. What makes it worse is that the day is c r a w l i n g by. I'm willing myself to hold on until quitting time without screaming.

Brought in my own coffeemaker yesterday. Surprised to see it this morning, still sitting on my office bookshelf, all shiny blue and coffeemakery. It makes ten cups, so I can share with a lot of people. I send an email when a fresh pot's ready, but only after I've checked the pot to make sure no coffee grounds have eluded the filter and immigrated to my coffeepot. Whew, no grounds floating in the pot, so we're good. I hope they like Folgers.

More research. Project manager wants me to summarize 2 big-a$$ reports into a simple table. Okay. I'll give it a shot, comb through all this government legalese. PM'll probably tell me it's not exactly what she wants but it's a start.

Sure enough, PM gives it back to me with lots of questions marked in red. Says she wants me to 'dig deeper'. Okay. But it's 3:15 now and I leave at 4 (since I came in at 7am). And if I go back to reading this stuff for the second time today, my head will explode and several sharp screams will burst from my mouth. [Note to self: Check thesaurus for synonyms of the word 'scream'. May need to call on them frequently.]

Netflix sent me The Boondock Saints, The Motorcycle Diaries, and Bar Girls. Watched Boondock Saints after work. Norman Reedus and Sean Patrick Flanery play these twin brothers that feel called by God to rid the world of evildoers - permanently. They run through the Boston mafia and run from a mysterious assassin who in the end is not that mysterious. It was good and reaffirmed my faith in indie films. You just get the coolest stories and most interesting characterization from independent films.

Tuesday, 19 July 2005

Cymbalta Chronicles, Vol. 2

Cymbalta Chronicles, Vol. 2
Effing meds. Woke up at 3:50 am so nauseous I thought any moment I would spew from both ends. Have to get up at 5:00 and get ready to go to work. There's some research I have to do for a meeting this afternoon. I was planning to get in by 7:00 am and cram all that in before 1:30. Well, God and Cymbalta both laughed at those plans. After missing a couple days last week to go to court and fix my car, I can't in good conscience call my supervisor and tell her I'm not coming in because my happy pills are giving me the poopies.

I drag my a$$ to work and mainline coffee just to get the job done. At 12:30, I meet with my therapist who has never heard of Cymbalta either. She takes a look at the information that Dr. T left me, hand-scrawled instructions for taking the medicine and a photocopied chart that's supposed to explain how the medication works on certain neurotransmitters. My therapist thinks that since I told Dr. T that Wellbutrin hadn't worked that he wanted to try something different, perhaps more powerful. Wellbutrin works on dopamine (and norepinephrine to some extent) while Cymbalta works on serotonin and norepinephrine. So now, we have a rationalization but I wish Dr. T had taken the time to tell me this. Getting psychiatric treatment should not resemble a trip to Mickey D's. My therapist suggests that I called the McChiatrist, tell him about the nausea and the loss of sleep and see what he advises. We spend the rest of the hours bitching about court and my jerky soon-to-be-ex brother-in-law.

By 4:00, I've blown that popstand and race to the on-ramp for 495 to Northern Virginia. I get home in record time (almost an hour) and find that the plumbers came and gutted the bathtub/shower in the Master Bedroom after I'd called last weekend to reschedule. Effing eff. Of course, the plumbers don't listen to or acknowledge my sister's requests to reschedule. Instead they call the condo owner, who vetos my sister by telling the plumbers to go ahead, yells at her and tells her, 'this does not bode well for you renewing your lease'. Effing jerk. Like we'd want to renew a damn thing with him. He has no idea what my sister has been through in the last WEEK, much less the last five months since my brother-in-law left(and has stated that he doesn't care). He thinks we should be eternally grateful to pay inflated prices for a condo that he makes little effort to repair. On the first of the month he nags my sister about the rent, when contractually it is not late until 5:00 pm on the fourth. During the yearly condo inspection he tells my sister, 'You know I could sell this place for (insert beaucoup amount of $$$)'. He is, in short, a collossal a$$hole. I hope we can move once the lease is up and that he never gets another tenant after us. Yeah, I know it's unrealistic, sour grapes and all that, but he really is such a pr*ck. When my sister asks if he's thinking about selling, he says no. He loves to mindf*ck his us like this. Does he do this to all his tenants or just the black women in the middle of a painful, complicated divorce and custody battle?

Tried the Cymbalta again after dinner. Didn't get as sick this time, but I still didn't get much sleep. Dr. T said that it might make me drowsy and then I wouldn't need the Ambien he prescribed for me. No such luck. Read the new Harry Potter (so many typos in the first chapter!) until I fell into a stupor.

Monday, 18 July 2005

Cymbalta Chronicles, Vol. 1

Met with Dr. T at noon. He's a fast-talking, tanned, late forty-ish doctor whose appointments are backed up till Kingdom Come with scheduled patients and walk-ins. Why aren't their more doctors at places like this? It just seems incredibly greedy and non-client centered to have one MD at a psychological assessment and treatment center in the middle of a large Metropolitan area. But that was just my first time there, so I don't have all the facts.

Anyway, I think he talked to me for maybe ten or fifteen minutes. Then he quickly scribbled down a prescription to some 'new' anti-depressant called Cymbalta.

I'd never heard of this medication and neither did the pharmacist when I filled the prescription after work. Dr. T told me it didn't matter when I took it but he recommended that I take it with dinner, because it might make me drowsy. The pharmacist (a lovely Vietnamese woman) told me to take it in the morning. During our consultation, she tried to look up some info on Cymbalta (I suspect she Googled it) and didn't find much. My eyebrow and my suspicions are officially raised.