input: OPTIONS:
- the friendly airline staff
- not enough information
- the growth an ideas that result from these trips
- getting to see their team in person Now, answer this question: A confession: I quietly love flying. This year, I've done 163,581 miles of it. I love that when you fly a lot, the airport social media staff say 'hello' on Twitter when you arrive and the cabin crew on your home route (or even on the Brisbane-Dubai non-stop route) recognise you from last time. I like getting great service, and see so many things about systems-thinking that work well in airlines, that I'm happy to forgive small indiscrepancies when they occur. All that said, flying strangles our planet as much as eating too much red meat, and for many, many reasons, I've wanted to stop flying quite so much, while not restricting the spread and growth of the ideas from our firm, NoTosh. I'm quite sure that nobody reading this blog really cares about how much I travel, but keeping an annual count on it has become a new year habit. When I started working at Channel 4, and then continuing when I created NoTosh, I wanted to keep track of what seemed like an interminable number of miles on the road and in the air. By 2012, 2013 and last year, I was beginning to wonder if I'd ever be able to get the number of miles down when they seemed to represent even more trips to the moon and back each and every year. When you run a company based in Edinburgh with a great team living in Melbourne, you could easily spend your life on a plane - one flying to Melbourne feels better than two or more flying to Edinburgh. Indeed, in 2012, 2013 and 2014 it felt like I really did spend my life on a plane, as I went to the moon and back in my annual travel, with anything up to seven trips a year to Australia. According to the above context, answer the following question. What does the author like about flying?
A:
output: not enough information

I've learnt a great amount throughout this studio, first and foremost I was taught: how the art world functions, how specific galleries such as Gertrude St Contemporary run and how artists earn a living. The studio also provided me with basic filmmaking skills such as how to: create a shooting schedule, write a shooting script, set up three-point lighting, conduct an interview, utilise visual storytelling and edit a short film. Throughout the shooting process with my artist I also developed my abilities regarding how to use a: Sony Zoom H2N (and other such handy recorders), a lapel mic, my own Canon EOS 60D and Adobe Premiere Pro editing software. Overall I think the studio functioned quite successfully, it was great to be in a studio with nineteen people who all were interested in the same topics as you. I felt that overall, the studios had a very happy and supportive environment, and you walked away knowing a great deal about the art world and how to make short documentaries. The project itself taught me a great deal about how to work with talent, as well as my group members. Having to work independently forced me to be completely all over every aspect of the shoot, whether that be choosing which questions to ask, deciding what to focus on, where I wanted the shoot to happen, deciding what gear to use, getting to the shoot, carrying all the gear, what I wanted to shoot, managing the audio, managing the lighting, managing the camera set-ups, managing the talent, editing the film, and finding a great soundtrack for it. I'm a pretty self-conscious person and I often doubt the decisions I make or ask someone else for their opinion (should I shoot this angle, or what do you think of this question etc.). Working independently pushed me to go with my gut instincts, to make decisions and to not seek others approval. It forced me to develop my aesthetic as a filmmaker and to own the work that I ended up producing, so ultimately I was really glad with how everything panned out. According to the above context, answer the following question. When did the narrator learn to trust himself and really own his film work?

OPTIONS:
- Before the studio class
- During the film-making project
- A few weeks after the class
- not enough information

Answer: Before the studio class

Problem: OPTIONS:
- not enough information
- relieved
- sad
- regret
Q: My then-teenage daughter and I went to a new restaurant. It was empty apart from the manager. We were told to find ourselves a table, so we sat in an attractive area sort of like a small stage. No waitress came by for 10 minutes, so we decided to visit the restroom; there was just one, with one toilet. But a woman rushed in ahead of us, carrying a bundle of clothes. Several minutes later, when she reappeared, we realized this was our waitressarriving late and pushing us customers out of the way so she could change. OK We each used the restroom and returned to our table. But it was not our table anymore. Along came the manager to explain she needed to set aside the stage-like area for a very special group. My daughter and I had already been debating whether to stay or leave. We stayed only because we were very hungry and worried that we'd have to start waiting all over again if we tried a different place. We were led to our new table: a lonely little table in the hall leading to the toilet. I was ready to get out of there, pronto, but my daughter spotted her favorite meal on the menu. But after another 15 minutes, with the lone waitress not appearing, we both shook our heads and got up Oh, here's the waitress! We ordered. Fifteen minutes later, no food. We got up again and exited past the stage-like area, which was just as empty as it had been when we were ejected. The very special people had not arrivedso (had we been served) we could have enjoyed our meal right there. We did find food elsewhere. The first place closed in less than a month. Good riddance! According to the above context, answer the following question. after the story, how does the dad feel?
Answer: relieved

Every so often I see a scenario play out that I find rather disappointing. It works like this: someone posts a topic to their blog that is critical or controversial. This person can either be a community member, commentator, employee or otherwise; it doesn't matter who the person is. Then what happens is a series of comments are posted to that blog entry from readers that are critical of the post, thus challenging the author on their views. The author then either deletes the blog entry or disables the comments based on the feedback. In other words, a viewpoint is shared, an invitation for comment is provided, but that invitation is then revoked when the author of the blog post is dissatisfied with the response from their readers. I have seen this happen countless times over the years and I don't like this. I believe we should all be accountable for our words. Our words have the ability to inspire, to entertain, to challenge, but to also hurt. Actions have consequences, and so do words. As such, when I see someone openly share their thoughts on their blog and invite their readers to provide comments, I see that as a wonderful demonstration of accountability and engagement; debate is a beautiful thing when executed with politeness and respect. To then close that door, seemingly because people disagree with you, is in my mind the equivalent of walking out of a room in the middle of a debate. The excuse when folks are criticized of this behavior is typically "it is my blog and I can run it how I like". This is true: it is your blog, and you can run it how you like, but the true measure of a person is not just in what they say, but also in the conversation and discourse that follows. According to the above context, answer the following question. What is probably true about the author?
OPTIONS:
- he doesn't read blogs
- not enough information
- he hates blogs
- he likes blogs

Answer:
he likes blogs