Just finished my math-morning of classes -- I've got two schedules, one of which involves math, physics, tennis, and economics, one of which just has math. It's a pretty good deal. Except two of my classes have only three people in them (including me). One of which I knew I was taking last semester, and is a special course investigating a group of statistics called "stochastics," or something like that, and is pretty cool; I know the instructor, and the course is actually towards the front of the field, from what I understand. Rainfall-runoff isn't a big thing, apparently, hah. But the other class is called "applied complex variables," and by complex, they mean imaginary. We found all three roots of the cube root of one, today. Yes, there are three unique roots. But noone really cares that much about math, for the most part, hah. Enough.

Had a discussion with my plebe (as a sophomore at the USMA, I am a team leader [cadet corporal], officially in charge of one person - my "plebe" [kinda like a freshman]) today, about leadership. I would imagine that she has a lot more to teach me than I her, in all honesty. We sat down and looked at the good and bad aspects of leadership development, at this place and in the Regular Army, and discussed how this place should change, and how it so often seems like the stereotypical West Pointer really is altogether too common a character, here. I'm still not sure -- it's always significantly easier to spot the people who bother us than the ones who were pretty good at their job, if not necessarily inspiring. But life is like that, I think: full of ordinary, but we're absolutely sure that it's completely filled with the extraordinary. Yet another product of our flawed vision, I suppose.

I never reach any conclusions, in here. I just realized that. I need to work on bringing my thoughts to a full circle, and finishing my analyses and the like. Some day.

Devon ZillmeR

Sitting on a plane, really need to use the restroom, and having just finished a History Channel special on football, I decided that the most productive thing I could do would be to sit down and type out some of my thoughts. I figured that since I’d picked up blogging again, I might as well just start writing more frequently. Kind of hard, though, now that I’ve sat down and decided to write, on what subject I should do so.

Flight over here got terribly messed up, though. The initial flight, out of ONT, was about 39 minutes late, so when we landed in Vegas, even though I sprinted to the other terminal, it was quite a distance, and I arrived there as the plane started to back out of the terminal. I could see the damn plane; it has just disconnected, and while the lady at the counter walked into the tunnel to check to see if there was anything that could be done, it was of no avail. I wasn’t alone though – that was a plus. Me and another cadet (hah, go figure), by the name of Adam Chang, were both sore out of luck. Sorely. The next flight to Newark didn’t leave until that same time, the following night, and the only other alternative, a flight to JFK the next morning, would still get us to West Point significantly later than we were supposed to. But there was nothing we could do about it, so after having great difficulty finding our way to the ticket counter, we spoke with the lady there (name happened to be Brenda), and things were alright. We actually received 100% accommodation, including full coverage for food, overnight housing, and transpo to and from the hotel. All in all – things seem alright. I emailed my SL, PSG, and plebe, when we were waiting at the Las Vegas airport, from my @army account, so hopefully there won’t be too much of a problem, when I get back. Damnit, one of these days I really should look into getting a cell phone, hah. So I’m on the plane riding to JFK airport, in the NYC. Except once we get there, only two-thirds of the day’s journey is complete: we still will need to get to West Point. Once we land, Chang and I will discover whether or not we can get a ride from the city. Probably not… which will mean a subway to Grand Central, a train up to around West Point, and then a cab onto post. Jeez… what a nightmare. But everything ended up alright. I only hope that my mother’s drive back home was as safe.

Watched a movie, and then a History Channel special on how football has effected / been used by the Presidency, since the inception of the Superbowl, and it sort of got me thinking about the Presidency, in general. I mean, with all the hype about this upcoming election, I’ve had ample opportunity to examine what it is that I look for in a President, and while I cannot support the pinko-leftist blues, in this election, I really can’t stand a great deal of the Republican candidates. First time in quite a while where there has been a real, significant question as to who will win the nomination for each of the major parties. I don’t know who I dislike most, of the Democrats, but I definitely support John McCain the most, of the Republicans. There are others I might trust to lead the nation, but most of them bother me more than they really come close to fulfilling what I’d hope for in a president.

Back on track, though. Watching that film about the presidency, it reminded me of how much that job isn’t really about so much what you do, as it is what people think of you. I mean, when candidates are elected more based on how personable people think they are than how competent, how experienced, or on any real sense of objective qualifications… but this brings me away from the subject again. I must remember: most Americans don’t vote, at all. Although this election may produce remarkably high turnouts, since it’s been getting so much more coverage than anything else… but there are another eleven freaking months before the actual election, so I suppose that is quite a while before people are really casting ballots for their Commander-in-Chief. I would like to see who is elected from the wrong side, as well as how the people who disagree with each major candidate end up casting their vote. Should be interesting.

Damn, digressed again. What I really wanted to hit on was a sudden urge to run for presidency. I mean, I would imagine that a lot of people want to be someone who gets so much attention, or who has responsibility for so much… but I’m not really sure why I got that impulse. It really goes against everything I thought I knew about myself. I mean, I’ve always been the kind of guy who leads from the front, yes, but not with bravado, noise, or extraneous endeavors. Always pictured myself more of a quiet leader, who might not appear to be the instant hit who inspires people on a first glance, but who would, when the day is done, have done a damn good job. Isn’t that the idea kind of leader who is entrusted with such an important job? It just occurred to me that, perhaps, my style is not suited for something so openly high-profile. I’m good at standing in the spotlight, true, but I’m not especially likeable, on a personal level, when I feel that I have a professional job to do, and that could be harmful. It’s something I know I’ve grappled with throughout this year, this inability (or lack of a desire to) mix my professional world with my personal. Things are so much easier when one doesn’t… but perhaps if I could learn to mix them just enough to make people take more of an instant liking to me, things would go better? Hmm. I’ve definitely had a few girls tell me, even in the past month, that I’m too closed-mouth and formal, and that I need to loosen up (the first two that come to mind are Cristina [Gomez] and Allison [Roque]… go figure), and perhaps there is some logic to what they say.

But why? Is it really necessary that I wed by personal interest with my professional? Both are significantly easier to deal with so long as they are clearly separated. I noticed this even when I was in high school, and that level of separation was exactly what helped me have the authority I did: I was not just a friend, anywhere. I was only a leader, to so many of them. And that ended up helping me be more effective in what I did. Isn’t that exactly what we need from people? Our country has, in my opinion, become too interested in things that don’t matter, like the president’s religion (Huckabee / Romney) or their personal life (Guliani), and it bothers me. The job of the president is to be a model citizen in a government role, and that entails them to forsake some of their personal decisions (IE religion or problems at home), to do what’s right for the nation, and to represent us professionally, domestically as well as abroad. Personally, I do not see a real need for them to be especially likeable. Why? Because their job is not to be liked, it’s to make sure the nation is protected, prospers, and that its people are living the best quality of life possible. Socialism is not the answer, electing people based solely on race or gender is not the way, and bickering about who’s more fucking spontaneous does noone any good. That is not to say that we shouldn’t debate; competition is the reason our nation is great, no questions about it. Because we compete, fight, and are in a constant struggle with ourselves for supremacy, incessantly questioning if everything we do is really the best, we grow and have higher standards of living than anyone else on the planet.

Yet again, I find myself distracted. Story of my life, isn’t it. Anyways. Winter break is over… damn, that was fast. I did get to see a lot of people, and that was really great. I haven’t seen some of those PACE classmates of mine in forever, and it was something else, entirely, finally being able to sit down and catch up a bit, share some of the college experiences and life lessons that we’ve learned, while at institutions as ideologically far apart as possible. Damn, I really need to see if I can stay over there, sometime, and sit in on a few really good conversations, either at Berkeley or at Stanford, and see what some of the more liberal leading minds in the nation think. Because while I do think that there are some brilliant, and varied, opinions at West Point, they are not as varied as is really necessary to be able to benefit from the kind of competition that makes an idea really strong. We’re a self-selected bunch, and while Cal/Stanford are, too, bringing the two together would doubtless mean a shitload of arguing and a great deal of learning, so long as those involved are intelligent and ensure that they keep in the right frame of mind, for the session. Unfortunately… things are seldom so easy. From what I understand, though, SCUSA is supposed to be something like that – I hope so. Because I am definitely doing it, next year. It sounds like this kind of thing, except it doesn’t have any of the brilliant individuals I know participating, so I hope it can live up to my ridiculously high expectations, hah. Few things do, I think.

Should probably be wrapping this up, since we’re fairly far along on our descent into JFK, now. I really do not look forward to a train ride / subway / taxi trip to WP, especially since I know it’ll mean spending even more money on this damn thing… sheesh. Stupid ONT, why couldn’t that plane leave on time. Anyways. Doubt this’ll end up being posted on the Xanga, in its entirety, since it rambles a bit too much for my taste… we’ll see. Actually, it’s a pretty good record of some of my thoughts, especially considering how much of a ramble it is in my typical stream-of-consciousness writing methods, hah. Whatever.

Hopefully this last leg of the journey to school works out.

Devon ZillmeR

PS: So as it turns out – things are alright. We arrived at the airport, and while we were worried that we wouldn’t end up getting our bags, or that we’d have to take a subway to a train station to a cab back to school, Adam ended up finding a ride that would get us back. I breathed quite the sigh of relief then, I’m not going to lie, hah. Definitely glad that worked out alright. Hopefully, the situation at school is alright, and there’s no problem with the TAC / COC, because things sure have worked out for me.

I know where thanks is due: thank you so much, God.

Currently Listening Iron Maiden By Iron Maiden see related

My last full day back in California is finally complete; all too soon, I return to the biting cold of New York. Originally, I wasn't going to have returned home until around noon, today (since I'm flying out tonight), but my plans ended up not working out. On a whim, I decided I should just head back to my mother's house, and after I refilled my tank (gas is too expensive) and put a little bit of air in my most deflated tires, I started the drive up. I am still thanking God that I headed up when I did: the drive back was insane, to say the least.

When I first left, the rain was so weak that I couldn't even leave my windshield-wipers on; I had to keep turning them off because the rubber was bouncing against my window. It would occasionally pick up, but never for longer than a few seconds. The occasional puddle in the road was mildly annoying, but the 405, 605, and 210 (for those who know the local freeways) were all pretty much cool. Towards the end of the 210, I started noticing some pretty thick fog, but it never lasted more than a few seconds, and the reflectors on the lane dividers and along the edges of the road meant that I could see where I was going with no difficulty. However, once I got to the 15, the fog really kicked in. Hard. But so long as there was reflectors on the road, everything was alright. So, naturally, what happened? The reflectors stopped. Because my lights permanently have the "brights" setting on, the lights are focused foreward, rather than down, so when the reflectors stop, I can't even see the road, let alone the lane. I slowed to a 15-mph crawl, in the middle of the freeway, and swung over to the slowest lane. As I'm busy freaking out, praying frantically that God keep me safe and actually on the freeway, I notice that two cars from behind are almost even with me. One of them, a Jeep, is cruising at a steady 50 mph or so, and is having no problem seeing through the fog. I figured that if I could follow this guy, who seemed to be able to see, I should be able to make it up without any problems. So I accelerate behind them, once they've passed, and just stay behind them until the 15 merges with the 215, at which point the reflectors resume, and I'm happy as a clam: I can see. Except after a little while, the reflectors are on and off. I manage, by either following vehicles, or just slowing down until I feel safe driving with only five to ten feet (max) of vision. Eventually, I reach the offramp, and I pull out, make the turn onto road, and resume driving. Fog has cleared up, by this point in the game, but now my windows are fogging, and the marks (from where someone had touched the glass and left smudges, which were kicking up a glare that made seeing almost impossible) on my windshield are keeping me from seeing anything, whenever a car is approaching in the opposite lane. Luckily, I'm only on this road for short while, and turn up Lone Pine Canyon Road. Probably not my wisest decision ever, I know -- driving up the most twisty-turney road around, and one of the more poorly-maintained -- but since the rain was just that, and the road seemed alright, I went on up the hill at the beginning. Oops.

Now the real fun begins. At first, it's just the continued fun (of being unable to see the road [damn lights], and the fickle fog), with the added excitement of incessant switchbacks, extremely steep slope, and really heavy rainfall -- so I'm feeling like I'm pushing the limit when I hit 25 mph, hah. About when I reach the end of the high desert-looking portion of the road, I notice that the rain looks a lot bigger, and maybe brighter, too. Snow? No way; it's not supposed to snow until Sunday. Ah, shit. But it wasn't sticking, so I felt confident. Then I saw clumps of snow on the side of the road, and knew I was in for some fun. The snow was coming down, and as I continued to drive up the mountain, the road was becoming coated with a thicker and thicker coat of the stuff. Well, that's not entirely true; the road wasn't always coated in snow. In several places, the snow wouldn't stick, and the ice shone through. Driving straight and about 15 mph, I almost slid completely out of control, at least twice. It was pretty exciting. And then, when I got to Desert View Lane (or whatever street I turn off of Lone Pine Canyon Road on), the steepest part began. The ice / snow had to be at least an inch deep, and I could feel my car having to fight to maintain traction. There were piles of snow next to where other people had driven. Actually, there was only one other set of tire tracks, meaning there was only one fool stupid enough to drive around in this kind of storm. Finally, I made it back to my mother's house, and am currently enjoying the warmth of its innards, hah. All in all, it was a great trip, if a little more exciting than I'd have hoped.

Now the break is pretty much over: I'm leaving later today to go back to New York. Still not entirely sure if this break was quite as great as I'd hoped, but I will concede that I did more than I'd ever really done. I got to see a whole bunch of people that I'd basically not seen since well before I graduated high school, and that was great. Had a few pretty damn good conversations, a lot of pretty good food (Noodle World, In-and-Out, Pho Saigon, Wing Stop, and homemade), over 1000 miles driven, and all my family visited. Definitely can't complain, looking back on it. It just wasn't exactly what I'd hoped for, and while I even narrowly avoided lecturing someone about how sometime life changes our plans for us, and things still work out great, I still do wish things had gone as hoped. I'm not too worried, though, since it's not my last time home, nor will it be my wealthiest return, either. Finally bought some LB gear, too.

Bone-tired, so I'll continue this when I get bored in the airport. Or something.

Devon ZillmeR

Currently Listening Powerslave By Iron Maiden see related

After looking back at a bunch of my previous entries, it occurred to me that I start off my blogs, here, far too often with something along the lines of "wow, it's been a long time since I've written" -- gotta stop. I use too much punctuation too... but that'll take a lot longer to 'fix,' so to speak, so I'll settle for the bare basics.

That being said, it has been an eternity, and after looking back at some of the things I've written as notes to myself, or as journal-ish entries, written all over random sheets of paper in a million places, I realize I've changed. A lot. I'm not entirely sure that it's for the better, either, which is what really bothers me. What brought it to my attention was when something happened back at school (on break now -- I love California weather, and my family here): a very good friend mentioned that my uniform standards had fallen very far from when I had first arrived. He was very right: I now overlook a great deal of the uniform deficiencies that I would have once never stood for. This, in and of itself, is not particularly troubling for me (since I still notice them all, I just have ceased to comment on them). The fact that I have, all around, allowed my standards for right and wrong, as well as my general level of intelligence and quality of work, to decay -- that is far more troubling.
Damn my writing style -- I will try that sentence again.

The fact that I have let my standards decay, morally, intellectually, physically, spiritually -- is troubling.

I've been on my Christmas Break, for the past week, and at the close of this week, I return to school. For all I love it at home, it's very nice to be able to have a clear division between work and play; when I return to school, this life of laziness and spending will stop, hah. I don't really do the New Years' Resolution thing, but I have decided that things need to change -- I've got to get out of this lazy lifestyle, especially physically and intellectually. School does provide the opportune chance to pick back up the ascetic lifestyle that lends itself to the kind of work I like to get done. I hope.

Going to head out, and continue to enjoy the family I've got in Long Beach... whew. God Bless, all.

Devon ZillmeR

Currently Listening Where Do We Go from Here By Pillar see related

Summer Leave is almost over. ... gone so quickly, hasn't it? I can remember every moment of my flight home, that last entry I posted, how I doubted I would actually post it, since it covers such a variety of topics, and how I kept on planning to do things... planning, planning... but nothing ever seems to work out quite as I'd hoped, does it? But then again, does anything? Ever? Really? Hm.

Spent two hours washing the outside of my car, then windex-ing all the windows, inside and out, and then lugging our vacuum cleaner into my trunk, so I could use the little hose extension to vacuum out the rest of my car. Now that I'm leaving, I've finally decided to clean it out. Hah. But I do love driving a clean car. I was doing some laundry, and decided to remake my "bed" (the couch I sleep on, has a blanket over it, since it sort of is like a bed), and happened upon my senior yearbook. Almost an hour later, after poring over the thousands of words that various people, great people, shared with me, my mind is racing. Surprise, surprise, I know...

First thing that came to my mind was how much I get pissed at people who write absolutely nothing in other peoples' yearbooks. That bugged me back when, and it bugs me now. The next thing that came to my mind was a subject that has been eluding my grasp for quite some time: potential. There are a few individuals whom I met in high school who I'd looked up to not because of who they were, but because of who they had the 'potential' to be. Everybody says nice shit, like 'I know you'll do well at college,' or 'you were such a great friend to me,' or whatever -- but how many of them really see the truth? Most folks, from what I can see, carefully spend vast amounts of time cultivating mindless nothings to fill their heads with, focusing on that nothing, and on enjoying their cultivating process, and on not really thinking about their ultimate goals in life, wandering aimlessly... what I mean, is that they don't spend time making themselves better judges of others' character, or shrapening their vision, so as to actually have some sort of accuracy with their prophetic predictions launching towards greatness. Do I mean that none of us will become great? Not in the least. Because some of my classmates were far more intelligent, know a great deal more, and work significantly harder than I ever have, academically, and those traits tend to lead to success in today's world. ... I suppose all I was really aiming at, here, was the sliver of doubt that clouds every word of all of my friends' entries: how true were they? Will they be? People will oftentimes write things that are nicer than reality, I fear... but fear has always dictated too many of my social interactions, hasn't it. All that I wanted to really point out, there, is that I hope I can keep in touch, and keep the connection I thought I had with people, intact. That would truly be a blessing.

Only reason I really consented to allowing myself to reread that yearbook, was because I figure I probably have changed since most of that stuff was written about me. I'm not quite sure how, since I haven't had the opportunity to really talk with folks, and see who is who, and how we interact, nowadays. And I suppose I won't really get an opportunity, will I? Damn. Time flies so fast. For all we worry about our future, and about our career, and agonize over every moment we spend, in the blink of an eye -- it'll all be gone. All of it, everything, gone. And we will no longer have a future to live for. I'm not sure if I wnat that day to come or not. Still working hard on the present, trying to figure out who I am, to decide which way to turn, to arrive at who I want to be, hah. Such a simple idea, as all such ideas are, that never prove so wonderfully simple in application.

This will probably be the last time I write an entry, here, for quite some time. I'll be leaving for camp Buckner (my second summer's training, called thus because it is conducted at [surprise, surprise] camp Buckner, and where we learn a lot more about soldiering, and begin applying some of the stuff we've learned in Military Science classes and stuff like that) this Thursday, and will not have internet access for quite some time, once I'm gone. I very much doubt I'll muster the determination to type up another string of thought while at the airport. Hmm... actually, I might. Since if my flight is late, I'll be spending an unnecessary night at an airport, but whatever. We'll see how things go. I've certainly more than enough to say, hah. For those few who still read... but I end here. Laundry, sleep, and my brother beckon. God Bless, all.

Devon ZillmeR