In the interest of being pithy, I have a simple thought this evening:

Unpacking all of my stuff just to pack it all again within an hour or two makes me feel stupid. And crazy at the same time.

'Nuff said.

I feel like I'm slowly going insane.

I have yet to know when or where I'll be assigned, and this fact is slowly driving me insane.

Don't get me crazy. I love vacation time. And it's really not that bad, at least I know I have a job.

But the uncertainty of knowing is driving me insane. And only because I have become totally complacent by not knowing when or where I will be going.

Translation: I have a lot of shit to do and I have no idea how long I've got to do it.

I'm still unpacking and cleaning. Plus, I'm packing bags for the eventual "You're going here on this day" call. This house has so much crap in it and now I find out that the Salvation Army doesn't pick up, so I have to drop off all of the shit at their warehouse, which will most likely take me an entire afternoon if not a majority of my day. Not neat.

And really, it's just that I can't make plans. I don't know if I can go back to Syracuse to visit my home. Don't know if I can go to Philly to visit friends. Don't know if I can go to NYC to feel saddened by my departure. I did steal away to DC with Fabs, and while it was awesome seeing Michael and Foyelicious, I felt like the back of my mind was nagging the front of it to remind me how much work I have to do.

So after I drop Fabs off at the train tonight, I have decided to put my ass in major hauling mode. I want to finish off the boxes and cleaing by Wednesday. Then, I can realy relax until I leave.

I just want my mind back. Or something that makes me feel like I'm being, I dunno, a more productive part of society.

All of this to really just say that unemployment sucks.

I've been listening to a lot of classical music lately.

For a month, So Young and I turned on the radio when we were remodeling the house. P.S. when I say remodeling, I mean taking down old tacky wallpaper and painting the drywall as well as some much-needed weeding, cleaning, and tidying up.

Anyhoo.

In the month I turned on the radio, while I enjoy the small satisfaction some of the music brings in my being able to sing along to a jangle or two, I remembered why I turned it off for so long in the first place. For starters, I think I heard the same Top 40 songs over and over again at least 5 times in a three hour period. And Jesus, after a while, it all starts to sound the same.

What happened to music?

It's crap now. There are a few musicians who play on the radio (constantly) that do stand out, but seriously, I wonder where it's all going.

Heather made me think of this. She listed her favorite cds on her blog recently (check out the link on the right) and she has some fabulous taste in music. And so I started thinking what I tend to turn to a lot lately.

Sure, I go through phases. There's the Ani DiFranco phase where I just have her on a loop for about a month or so. Dar is intermixed in there with the Indigo Girls. Perhaps those are my "chick" moments, though I hate categorizing it like that.

Of course, there's the Dave phase where I have to listen to every DMB cd I own at least once or thrice - maybe six times a year.

There's the oldies stretch where I listen to Elvis and the Beatles and Simon and Garfunkel like my life depended on it.

There's the hippie stretch where I put on Phish and the Dead and even twirl around to some Doors, though I wouldn't normally put them there.

There's the ocassional Shake Yo Ass phase where I want dance music and rap. Those are few and far between - though I find I need them on long car drives to break it up.

And there's the Garth and Dixie Chicks "gettin back to my college days" on those moments I feel sentimental or need a good holler.

But when I need to ponder, when I need something to refresh my palatte, musically, if you will, I turn to the great wisemen of all time: Beethoven, Mozart, Vivaldi, and Brahms.

I can't explain it. Well, I know that my the first thing I ever loved in this world that wasn't my family was music. It's hard for me to place my first memory but the first one that stands out is being introduced to my violin at the tender age of 3. The world of music was, and still is, a haven to me. So I suppose it makes sense that I go back to it peridically.

I miss playing in a band. I miss playing in an orchestra even more. I was so excited when I started playing with the Lawyer's Orchestra. It was as if I had found my very first friend all over again. Discovered it, actually.

So my respite from the crap coming out of the radio has been to dust off the old tapes and cds and give 'em a spin. I find it so good for my soul.

I've had to explain to many before that it is very difficult for me to work while I listen to classical music. Unlike others who prefer to have it on while they work, if I have played it, I get caught up in it. I find myself pausing to listen more than I would if something else were on. I have this incessant need to break it all apart, hear each note and instrument individually and then listen to it as a whole. And since I need time to do that, since my life seems to be incessant with motion, it's a good thing that I am listening to my old friends again. Because it means that I have slowed down, albeit temporarily. I can wax brilliant about the music, but I think I'll just let it speak for myself.

Music, I have found, is a wonderful gift to give and share. Many who know me and my musical history ask me what is good classical music to listen to - especially if they are just turning their ears to it for the first time.

So for those of you out there that are curious about classical but never got into it and even for those of you who are seasoned enough to know who Paganini and Albinoni are, here is a list for you to peruse. That is, if anyone besides four people I know read this.

Here goes. I've made this an abbreviated list, we could go on for days here otherwise. So it's a starting list, starting with the greatest.

Keeza's Top Ten Classical Picks for the Discerning Ear (and some composers have two , deal with it):

1. BEETHOVEN - SEVENTH SYMPHONY, SECOND MOVEMENT. He is my favorite and I wouldn't be offsides if I told you I thought he was God. Sure, everyone knows the famous notes of the 5th Symphony and the 9th. But how many actually have taken the time to listen to this particular movement of his symphonies? I swear to you, this is a masterpiece. Absolutely haunting and beautiful. Actually, ANYTHING by Beethoven is alright and genius to me - but if I had to pick a favorite, this is it. PIANO CONCERTO #1 is brilliant, too.

2. BACH - CELLO SUITE #1 IN G MAJOR & AIR ON A G STRING. You've heard them before. I'm actually not a big Bach fan since I find him repetitive and boring, though I appreciate what he did for music. But these two are genius. Brilliant.

3. BORODIN - POLOVITSIAN DANCES. You - or your parents - might recall "Stranger in Paradise". The theme is from here.

4. RIMSKY KORSAKOV - CAPRICCIO ESPAGNOL. Fierce.

5. DVORAK - NEW WORLD SYMPHONY & "THE AMERICAN" QUARTET. Dvorak came from Czechoslovakia to the United States in the 1800's and is the first of the European greats to bring "American" music to the old world. But this is fantastic music, nonetheless.

6. BERNSTEIN - OVERTURE TO CANDIDE. Bernstein was the man. This is awesome.

7. HOLST - ST. PAUL'S SUITE. Chamber music at it's finest.

8. COPLAND - RODEO. Beef, it's what's for dinner. Or fabulous music.

9. STRAVINSKY - THE FIREBIRD SUITE. Bercuse and Finale. That's all I have to say. It will blow you away.

10. TCHAIKOVSKY - ROMEO AND JULIET. Tchaikovsky was a mad genius and we are all the better for it. You will recognize the "love"theme. This is brilliance at it's best.

Perhaps soon I will scribe my favorite violin solos of all time, but for now, let's deal with this. I realize that Vivialdi was left out, but I'll get him next round.

When I need comfort music, I reach for this. Explore this world if you can. It's the music that has lasted generations. It is the base of music today. You might not be fully aware of how, but this was the heartbeat of music. I hope you will at least listen to one thing on this list. Trust me, you'll enjoy it. Hell, go for all 10. I've got copies of 'em all, if you wanna hear. You'll be happy you did.

AND, you'd get some serious culture. Who can go wrong with that?

Jesus, what a weekend. The Christ, what a week.

All in all, it wasn't that bad. But as I sit here, pontificating, I'm starting to wonder if it could get any worse.

No idea yet about the job. NOT neat.

No idea yet about where I'll be assigned to until November. ANNOYINGLY Not neat.

Dumbass was reelected, meaning that he was inaugurated - for the second time - last week. FREAKISHLY not neat.

Dumbass says that the only way to ensure American freedom is to ensure freedumb around the globe. With whom, I ask? Aren't we already tapped? And which countries sovreignty are we going to trample on now? Ah, the return of conservative theory in international politics. ABSOLUTELY not neat.

Mother nature douched us with an amazing amount of snow and wind. Would be neat if I was anywhere where they knew how to take care of snow, but since I was in Delaware, it sucked chunks. Would have loved very much to go skiing this weekend. BUTT ASS COLD not neat.

Johnny Carson died. TOTALLY not neat.

The Washington Post just found out that there was a clandestine organization started after 9/11 at the Pentagon under Donald Rumsfeld's order. Congerss just found out about it. Too much power in the hands of one man sounds suspiciously like Washington College all over again. Oh wait, that was run by Republicans that had no prior experience in that given field, too. And who is paying the bills for an organization with that much power? Yeah. SO VERY not neat.

It's very dry here. ASHY SKIN not neat.

I'm still cleaning and fixing up the house. Alone. SCARY BIG HOUSE not neat.

I think I'm going crazy. Perhaps this is the neatest thing of all.

But seriously. It wasn't a bad week. Honest. Just a bunch of things that I can't control. Nothing new.

Dammit! I just wrote out an entire blog that was long and I lost it.

:LKDSJFaoisdfperuij;lakdsfjnas;dlifjaerio;ja;lkdvjmasd;iofuqwewo;rijnads;lfkjadopuiweorp;kljasdf;lkjasdf;lkjasdsfmother.....

Erg. I'll return and retype when I'm not so p-i-s-e-d.

That's right. Pised.

Name the movie.

My God, it's cold.

So yes, I'm still in the 'Cuse, still working out the unemployment crap, still not working, and still don't know where I'll be assigned ... as of yet.

I was thinking about going to DC on Thursday to protest the inauguration of the idiot savant, but I'm freezing my patootie off here, I'm not sure that I want to stand in freezing cold with the possibility of snipers and DC police going Waco on my dissenting ass. I've been to the inauguration ('96) and I was cold as hell. And the security is ridiculous. So I'm thinking the next protest I will do. In the meantime, I'll sit in front of the 46" flat screen, try to see the friends I have left in 'Cuse, try to get tickets to the SU/Georgetown game tomorrow night, and rest up.

In the meantime, I'm kind of bored. Blah blah blah blah blah.

Time to watch another of the 5 rented videos from Blockbuster. Matt Damon or Brad Pitt? I love being on vacation, no matter how bored I am...

Back in the 'Cuse. Gotta take care of unemployment crap.

But this post is about something else. Been a while since I got out the soap box, but you didn't really think that I would have strayed from the rant for long, did you?

On Friday night, my parents and I went to fabulous Atlantic City for another one-night stay. We had a room and tickets to The Letterman that night.

Fabulous Atlantic City is better when I am winning. For the first time, I played the tables (Blackjack) and I am now hooked. This could be dangerous. Especially since I lost money this time around. I could have broken even, but it just wasn't my weekend. I'll need some time before I return. Though I can't stop thinking about it. Argh.

But I'm writing because the Letterman were actually the best show I've seen at Atlantic City. One of the original members is still traveling with the group - the two newer members are quite good, though one of them is built like Arnold and has a mullet, but that's not the point of this story.

For starters, there were an incredible amount of Filipinos who went. That's because one of their songs, "Dahil Sa'yo" (Because of You) is entirely in Tagalog. Apparently, they spent a lot of time in the Philippines when they were big.

By the way, the Letterman, for those who don't know, were the N'Sync* of the 50's and 60's. They were pretty good. "Theme from a Sumemr Place" was one of theirs, along with a string of other big hits from the oldies station.

First of all, I was with my parents, which means that we go places early. We were in our seats at least an hour and a half before the show started. Neat. My mom whispers to me, "See the Filipino family behind you? The boy? Is that some sort of new hat that is popular now?"

The kid was wearing a bike helmet.

We had a good laugh when I thought of "Garden State" and came up with a possible explanation. Also, he might have had head surgery recently, so I somewhat felt guilty at laughing at him. It's just rare to see people wearing bike helmets in public when they aren't on a bike. That's comedy.

I'm an asshole.

But then my mom goes, "Look at the guy at about 3 o'clock. Is that a Yalmulke?"

No, it was a guy who was bald. In a weird way. That was his pate my mom thought was a Yalmulke (Kippah). Nice, mom.

And has anyone yet noticed how good I am at correctly spelling Yiddish and Jewish words? Hell, I'm proud of myself.

But no, my soapbox hasn't come out yet. I am completing the comedy section of this blog.

They ended the evening with "Proud to be an American". People in the audience were swaying, standing, singing.

I wanted to cry. Because I used to be so proud to be an American. I still am. Perhaps this is why I am standing on the soapbox now.

Because no matter what patriotic song, event, or mention - I get really angry. Not at the people for expressing their beliefs and support for our country. But because they re-elected that idiot asshole of a president. All I could think of was wonder how many of them voted for Dubya. How many of them voted for Kerry. And how many of them were pissed as I was to know that the drunken frat boy is single-handedly driving the country into a ditch.

Just because I don't like the president doesn't mean that I am any less American than anyone else. And I resent being made felt that way. My grandmother a few weeks ago when I was in the middle of a rant in DC about the president told me, "He was re-elected, you should stop calling him names."

No. That's what makes me an American. I can disagree with the president. Just because he was re-elected doesn't mean that I don't believe in democracy. This is what democracy is all about. Actually, if we can use the proper term for the proper situation, we have a republic. But it doesn't mean that democracy or freedom is only the picture the president paints. It only took him a week to order flags at half-mast for the tsunami that ripped across South East Asia. It only took him a week to ignore an important security briefing that caused the worst terrorist attack on the United States. And it only took him a week to decide to invade a country that had nothing to do with that. I started thinking about all of the reserves and guardsmen and women overseas and I started getting really pissed. Because it is a far cry from what they signed up for.

And they are protecting my right to feel this way.

I guess I'm just tired of another four years of feeling that I need to explain myself. I support the troops but not the president, does that make me less of an American?

Here's one thing for damn sure, though. It strengthened my resolve to work harder to take our country back.

I just didn't expect it to come from a Lettermans concert. In Atlantic City, of all places.

Sigh. The soapbox is gone now. Just me. Frustrated. But I've got a week of rest. The new job starts on the 18th. I can start fighting again then. Until then, I better pack and get some rest.

I have too much shit.

After taking two days from the house renovation/unpacking/clearing 25 years worth of clutter for a fabulous New Year's at Ross's with friends - hell, we're more than all friends, we're family - I was not eager to jump back into working mode.

But I have no choice. So Young is moving back to New York and my parents are coming on Thursday.

Back to "While You Were Out". God, I wish I was motivated when I didn't have a fire lit underneath me. I would actually get some sleep.

Yet, it is not only my New Year's Intention (so much better than resolution) to live a more healthy lifestyle, but also a more feng shui'd lifestyle.

But how much is appropriate to keep from your past? I was cleaning out the other small guest room and ran across four or five more boxes of my shit. Plus I have a living room full of shit from moving out of NYC. I feel like I have run the gamut - I've cleared up or seen most of my stuff from college and Coro and now I'm hitting my professional life stuff (if you can call it that). Add in clothes, random tchokies, toys, stuffed animals, files, and posters - and you've got the mountain of mess that I am currently staring at in my room. Damnhellass. Many people prefer to just throw it all away. I can't seem to do it. It was my life and there were parts that were too good to throw away.

I suppose that I could, however, do without the one foot Cartman doll.

Or, I could throw it in the guest room next to mine. Not a bad idea. I can throw many stuffed animals over there. It adds to the folksy charm of the house.

Hmm.

Where else can I store folksy charm?

If I move things to the basement, they may never see the light of day again. So should I just throw it away? Probably. I think that's a rule from here on out. But I just am running out of space. If my dad hadn't already commented to me that he thinks this house has become my warehouse and storage space, I really wouldn't care. But the Christ! I've already created bags and bags worth of shit, I can't believe that I still have this much shit.

Not too hard to understand, though. I mean, in my defense, it is seven years worth of shit - parts of it 25 years worth of shit. I started storing things here in college since the house is close to school. So imagine four years of college - moving out of the dorms and just throwing your crap in one place, but never really going through it. Then imagine moving to New York City for three years, living in three different apartments, throwing boxes of stuff you don't really need in your apartment - and are too busy to adequately weed out so you just need to put your stuff somewhere - in one place.

That's what I'm dealing with. Seven years of moving. I only lived in one place for longer than a year. And even then, I moved for five to six months before heading back here. I don't mean to be a pack rat, but I also never really allowed myself the time to pack in a way that would be effective, meaning that I just threw shit into boxes or bags and moved them from one place to another instead of giving myself time to weed out and throw away before leaving.

This is worse than moving, though. Because it also coincides with work on the house. And if anyone's been to my house in Delaware, you know that it's not more than just needed, but that there's also a lot of shit in this house that needs to be thrown out and given to the Salvation Army. Because it isn't just a dumping ground for me, either. My folks might bitch and moan, but there is plenty of shit that is here that is theirs that they haven't touched in years or have brought from the house in Syracuse or apartments along the way. Not entirely fair, but they are both older and not in the best physical condition, so besides being happy that So Young has been helping me, I suppose that it's up to me to make sure that things are done.

I have cleaned out two rooms upstairs full of shit from the 70's and beyond. We've de-wallpapered two rooms and painted them. We have moved furniture around. And on top of that, I have to go through my shit. If there was at least one room that was completely empty, that would have improved the situation. But alas, it is what it is. We're working on getting rid of the wallpaper in the front foyer and stairs as well as the ceiling in the kitchen where the wallpaper has extensive water damage or has come off. The problem is that once you start working on one of those, you see other problem spots. Not neat at all.

So I doubt this is entertaining for any of you. Except that I'm kvetching to you. Sure, it would be easy to say to me, "Throw it all away". I'm trying, dammit!

The good news is that since my most recent stuff is already downstairs, it'll make it easier to pack. But I still have at least five boxes worth of shit down there that I have no freakin' idea what to do with.

It's keeping me distracted from the fact that I still do not know when my new job starts or where I will finally be placed. Or the fact that NY State has decided to temporarily suspend my unemployment checks until I appear in person in Syracuse. But I don't know when I will be expected to go to work (now that we're much closer to my supposed starting weeks) and if it's next week, then I don't really need that check. Of course, if it's two weeks, then my ass is going to Syracuse to get that check. That's another story in itself.

Packing sucks. Unpacking sucks. Uncluttering is liberating, but taking forever. Hmmm. Now I'm getting the urge to throw all of this shit away. Better hop to it and do it now before I change my mind!