user: Ques:For those of us who struggle with thoughts about our size and shape, sometimes we don’t like our bodies and our behaviour very much. It seems like an impossible task to transform our self loathing into self-love, but it is possible with these five simple steps. I started to write some examples of the self loathing dialogue I occasionally have in my head and I found I couldn’t do it. It felt as wrong as criticising my closest friend. I guess it goes to prove that the shift from loathing to love is not always huge and momentous, but subtle and gradual. When I look in the mirror and see a part of my body I don’t like, I run through these five steps in my head. This following example is the kind of internal conversation I might have about my belly. 1. POSITIVE INTENT (THE GIFT) Recognise the gift your body is giving you. My belly fat is protecting and cushioning my intestines and reproductive system. By having a higher body fat percentage my hormones are functioning as they should, enabling me to have a normal transition through perimenopause. I fit my skin and the wrinkly empty skin folds are gone. 2. FORGIVENESS Acknowledge the way you have treated your body in the past. I am sorry that I have been either starving you or stuffing you with toxic food and that I have accused you of betraying me. I now realise that my body is a reflection of my thoughts and beliefs so I was hating myself. Please forgive me for treating you so badly. 3. GRATITUDE Notice the miracles your body performs even though you have abused it. I am so thankful that even though I have treated you so badly you are still healthy and functioning. I am amazed at your ability to heal a lifetime of digestive and hormonal issues within a short amount of time. Thank you for your forgiveness and that’s it’s not too late to take great care of you. Who's hormones are functioning like they should?  A. not enough information  B. the friends  C. the narrators  D. the miracles

Ans:C
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Ques:Despite my blog name, I’m not actually all that adventurous. Think more suburban adventure rather than skydiving or wild camping. But, over the years I have ended up overcoming a few challenges that I hadn’t precisely expected to be faced with. This blog has always been, and will forever more be a record of my personal adventures. It is a journal of the chaos, delight, opportunities and travails that we encounter all rolled in with an obsession for photography (as far as my skillz extend) and a dash of humour (well, I try anyway). DRIVING IN AMERICA Covering 800 miles of American freeways in less than 10 days is something I never thought I’d do to be honest – an inexperienced driver at best I’ve driven short distances (and through a Florida tropical storm from Cape Canaveral back to our Orlando apartment) – but somehow we survived unscathed driving diagonally the length of Louisiana from New Orleans to Shreveport, through the crazy traffic of Dallas and along the long, undulating motorways of Texas. I’ll be honest, and admit that did we encounter a couple of challenging and scary situations – a truck driver changing lanes not allowing me enough time to enter a motorway (I luckily just popped into a shoulder lane), getting lost in the middle of Dallas skyscrapers (we jammed every device we had onto navigation), accidentally assuming a road was much narrower than it really was (luckily the road was relatively quiet so I just guided her nimbly over to the correct lane) and dodging some of the twits who pulled out in front of us – one with a trailer full of wood – but overall it really was fine. COMMUNICATING IN OTHER LANGUAGES You’ve decided where to go, booked the flight, found a hotel, decided what to do… and then you get to your destination. And, if you’re exploring outside the traditional western world, you probably won’t speak the local language – and the locals may or may not depending on how far outside the tourist traps you venture. Who is a fan of suburban adventures?  A. The twits who owned the trailer  B. The author  C. The truck driver  D. not enough information

Ans:B
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Ques:Went straight from a facility that deals with homeless children (492 1st Ave, Manhattan, New York) to the extreme outskirts of Queens near Kennedy Airport about 20 miles away. It was winter and I had no coat. I had my book bag and my sole Trader Joe’s bag of clothing and was loaded into a van with three social workers. During the long drive in traffic, I fell asleep, so waking up at my new home, I couldn’t make out any street signs and the numbering on the houses did not indicate whether I was in a home in the Bronx or Eastern Queens (which share the same street numbering in certain instances). My foster parents showed me my room and left a plate of food on the table. They barricaded themselves in their bedroom quite like how pilots barricade themselves behind the fortified cockpit door. However, my room didn’t have a lock, and neither did the bathroom. There were bars on my windows with a view of a church parking lot. I took great care to avoid waking a significantly older teen (I was 14, so he must have been 19–20) sleeping on the other bed. I heard two other kids (my foster siblings) in the other room playing music and giggling loudly at 3 in the morning. At 4 in the morning, my foster father started reading the Quran pretty loudly, and then he goes back to bed. In the morning, my foster parents are gone. My foster siblings are all sleeping. I got up at 7, but I don’t know how far I am from my high school, what buses/train will take me there, and still don’t know anything about anything about my new home. I don’t even know the names of those I’m relegated to living with. The unnerving strangeness and disorientation hat comes with knowing that your life has changed and the culture shock that comes with that is so scary and desensitizes you on that first day. The time it took for him to find a new house was probably  A. a lifetime  B. several years  C. a weekend  D. not enough information

Ans:

assistant: C
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