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Another month, another exam to study for!

Which is fine and dandy for most people…except I’m not like most people.

Despite the whole Asian student stereotype, I am terrible at studying due to a combination of procrastination, being incredibly busy, and having an overly distracted personality.

My sister was watching me “study” one day and she told me that I reminded her of a particular Spongebob episode. This is what she saw, and I can’t say I blame her for making the comparison:

And my next exam is this upcoming Saturday! Oh nooo!!!


In all seriousness, I have actually been studying very hard for this exam. While I do have my Spongebob moments, I think that this upcoming exam will end in success~ I’ll keep you posted, my lovely readers!

I did something new today!

Rock climbing was very fun (thank you to the Liaw’s for inviting us out). The change of pace was refreshing and exciting.

And now that everything is over, my hands are super numb…typing is twice as hard as it should be. Even drawing today’s comic was difficult. But this is a numbness of victory. Mwahahaha!

Rock climbing is by no means easy. It pushes muscles in your arms that you didn’t even know you had. When you happen to slip and lose your grip, re-trying the same climb increases in difficulty as your energy depletes. Sweat pours down your face, your arms shake, and every nerve in your fingertips screams in pain.

But…the victory of touching the top of the climb creates a feeling of addicting satisfaction that surpasses any pain.

I had a particularly difficult time with one climb. I made it almost to the top, but no matter how many times I tried and tried, no matter how many times I forced my body to push past its limits, I just couldn’t get my arm to reach the final rock above my head.

The first time around, after my arms had given up, I also gave up. And when I was lowered to the bottom I was fuming in defeat.

But with the encouragement of my friends, I went to take the climb one more time. This go round, my friends and the experienced climber that both coached and monitored me shouted out directions and advice from their perspective. The second time was physically just as difficult as the first, if not more due to my fatigue.

But my friends did not let me give up. (Literally, my friend Suah yelled from below: “Don’t you dare give up. You HAVE to get up there. Don’t come down until you touch the top!”) Even though I wanted to get to the top quickly, I had to relax occasionally and take a break. I asked my coach for tips from below. And with one final burst of strength (and a little bit of help from the coach pulling my harness) I reached the top and touched the “X” that marked my goal.

I was drenched and in pain, but I had a huge grin on my face. It was so sweet.

A Book With A Cliffhanger

On my way home, I began to make associations between rock climbing and life.

Far, far above my head, there’s a goal that I am seeking to take hold of. On my own, I cannot reach that goal…it’s too high up and I am too short. But if I start climbing, I can go one step at a time to make my way closer and closer to my goal.

The climb is difficult and tiring, especially when you want to reach the top. And it requires many tries and there will always be failures. Mistakes can be painful and tiring, and giving up seems like the most viable option at hand. But with the help of friends to encourage you, experienced coaches/mentors to guide you (and give you an occasional push), and your own desire to make it to the top…

…you can make it to the top and enjoy the view from above.

Lord, be my coach and guide to the top of my personal mountain. Though the journey will be rough, I know You will show me the way to reach victory.

It has been done!

690 points, 88th Percentile!

That's...good, right?

I’m kind of clueless about GMAT scoring, but according to the sites I perused, the scores are on par with the competitive scores for the business schools I’m applying to. WHOO! PTL!

Now. I sleep. ❤

Tomorrow’s the Day!

I feel more at peace now…than I unfortunately did during the past couple of weeks.

I’ve been suffering from a huge lack of faith in God’s will for my life. It makes me sad to even read back on my blog and see how much I’ve been complaining about my GMATs. I’ve been obviously trying to do things on my own instead of trusting Him.

And simultaneously, I have been belittling the abilities that He has already gifted me with by wishing I was smarter and more able to do things on my own.

After an extremely difficult day at work today, I had managed to hurt myself, develop an ulcer, and completely lose my appetite…even after having not eaten all day. When I left the office, I felt an overwhelming need to just read tomorrow’s QT verse a little bit early.

Boy, was I glad that I did. (My notes are in orange.)

Psalm 25

1 To you, O LORD, I lift up my soul;

2 in you I trust, O my God.
Do not let me be put to shame,
nor let my enemies triumph over me.

I know Satan wants me to crash and burn, and has been putting these doubts and fears of shame and failure in my mind. Lord, I put my trust in You. Don’t let my enemy triumph over me.

3 No one whose hope is in you
will ever be put to shame,
but they will be put to shame
who are treacherous without excuse.

4 Show me your ways, O LORD,
teach me your paths;

5 guide me in your truth and teach me,
for you are God my Savior,
and my hope is in you all day long.

Guide my paths, Lord…because I have no idea where I am going. I just know You have put a dream to go to business school in my heart. Show me where You want me to go.

6 Remember, O LORD, your great mercy and love,
for they are from of old.

7 Remember not the sins of my youth
and my rebellious ways;
according to your love remember me,
for you are good, O LORD.

Lord, please don’t even remember the foolishness and rebellion I’ve been showing the past few weeks. I’m sorry for the way I’ve been acting. Lord, please look on me with love…not because I deserve it, but because You are good. Have mercy on me during my exam.

. . .

16 Turn to me and be gracious to me,
for I am lonely and afflicted.

17 The troubles of my heart have multiplied;
free me from my anguish.

18 Look upon my affliction and my distress
and take away all my sins.

19 See how my enemies have increased
and how fiercely they hate me!

The past few months seem to have increased my troubles and my stress. But even during times when I do feel alone and afflicted, I do know that You see me.

20 Guard my life and rescue me;
let me not be put to shame,
for I take refuge in you.

21 May integrity and uprightness protect me,
because my hope is in you.

My hope is in You, alone, Daddy. I can’t do this on my own, but You have equipped me with what I need to succeed. Have mercy on my tomorrow, and protect me from any harm that my come my way. Amen!

Time to sleep! Good night! FIGHTING! And please pray that I kill these GMATs!!! Thanks!

Even if there wasn't a penguin on my head, sleep is probably a good idea...

My GMATs are this Saturday, and I’ve been studying…

Drowning in Algebra

…a lot.

Why couldn’t I be a super-genius and just get all of this naturally?


Okay. Break’s over. Back to hitting the books.

Studying for GMAT + Long Work Hours is huuuuuurd…

I've become a work zombie. If only my designs could actually sustain me.

BRAINS! Time for another late night study session.

I am achieving my goals…

One step at a time.

A lovely present in the mail today!

Next on my list? Take over the world. Mwahahahahaha!

Taking a Poetry Class in college was the easiest “A” I ever got.

Thoughhhh, at first, it wasn’t so easy. Admittedly, not everyone got A’s in my class. And I was horrible at writing poetry. I mean…HORRIBLE.

My idea of awesome poetry could probably be summed up in the poem My Beard, by Shel Silverstein:

My beard grows to my toes
I never wears no clothes,
I wraps my hair
Around my bare,
And down the road I goes.

See? Awesome!

My college professor did NOT share in my sentiment. And after weeks of trying (and failing) to make halfway decent poetry, I turned to my architecture skills to pull me out of this mess.

And all that meant was for me to look at the style of my professor and emulate it. Sucking up was usually the best way to get an “A” in an art-based class. Just saying.

So what I needed to do was create poems with words that didn’t necessarily make sense together, but made sounds that went nicely together. Add in a bit of sexual innuendo, sprinkle in a couple random paragraph indentations, and throw in either some religious imagery or pop culture, and BAM. You gots yourself a recipe for “A”-worthy poetry.

Want an example? I give you, American Sonnet #1, my first “A+” poem:

Let me tell you,
ooh, how you shoo away the Scooby-Doo spooks
that haunt my mental attic at midnight hours.
Yet your eyes dig into me like a diamond-tipped
drill, chiseling away at my chaste thoughts and planting
seeds of tangled limbs and steamy sighs.
Ooh, the shivers that shift down my spine taste like
rainbow Skittles, scattering down and shattering the
windowpanes of my suburban red-brick house nerves.
And the Tide-freshness of your chest causes me to press
my face deeper into that place between your pulsating
heart and exposed throat,
messily inhaling the heat that clings but slowly gets washed away
with every exhale, like makeup melting off in an April shower.
I don’t know what was funnier: the fact that my professor gushed at how it “transcended the conventional rules of form and became simply excellent works of art,” or that I actually started to enjoy writing these kinds of poems: it almost became a game for me to write progressively more crazy poems through the voice of an alter-ego I didn’t know I had. And my professor loved them all.

In the end, what I learned was that they shouldn’t call getting your Bachelors of Art a “B.A.”

Despite the fact that I did end up enjoying poetry class, the majority of our work was still just a colorful pile of “B.S.”

For much much more of my hipster poetry…well, you’ll have to ask. I only have the hard copy of my class portfolio gathering dust somewhere in my apartment.

A Cartoon Stuck in a Real Girl’s Body

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March 2020