Q: Sheila split open and the air was filled with gumballs. Yellow gumballs. This was awful for Stan, just awful. He had loved Sheila for a long time, fought for her heart, believed in their love until finally she had come around. They were about to kiss for the first time and then this: yellow gumballs. Stan went to a group to try to accept that Sheila was gone. It was a group for people whose unrequited love had ended in some kind of surrealist moment. There is a group for everything in California. After several months of hard work on himself with the group, Stan was ready to open a shop and sell the thousands of yellow gumballs. He did this because he believed in capitalism, he loved capitalism. He loved the dynamic surge and crash of Amazon's stock price, he loved the great concrete malls spreading across America like blood staining through a handkerchief, he loved how everything could be tracked and mirrored in numbers. When he closed the store each night he would count the gumballs sold, and he would determine his gross revenue, his operating expenses, his operating margin; he would adjust his balance sheet and learn his debt to equity ratio; and after this exercise each night, Stan felt he understood himself and was at peace, and he could go home to his apartment and drink tea and sleep, without shooting himself or thinking about Sheila. On the night before the IPO of gumballs.com, Sheila came to Stan in a dream. She was standing in a kiddie pool; Stan and his brothers and sisters were running around splashing and screaming; she had managed to insert herself into a Super-8 home movie of Stan's family, shot in the late 70's. She looked terribly sad. "Sheila, where are you?" Stan said. "Why did you leave me, why did you become gumballs?" "The Ant King has me," Sheila said. "You must rescue me." Question: Why was Stan going to a support group? Options: - not enough information - Because he was having bizarre dreams. - Because of his failing shop. - Because he missed Sheila terribly. === The correct answer is
A: Because he missed Sheila terribly.

Q: When asked to define ourselves we often use broad brushstrokes. Without thinking we consult our internal list of "things that make me, ME" and find ourselves recalling words like "creative, outgoing, photography, guitar" before we've even had a chance to fully process the question. But how much does this internal list define us? I believed that my internal list was the best representation of myself until I read a quote by Annie Dillard that states: "How we spend our days, is of course, how we spend our lives". This quote hit me like a punch in the gut, it's blatant truth so indisputable; how I spent my days, regardless of what I told myself about myself, was ultimately who I was. Or at the very least would be how I had spent my life. This is why, when completing my self portrait, I decided to focus on the everyday. Within my self portrait I wanted to present the viewer with a familiar yet abstract sense of reality through which we get to see amalgamated glimpses of the everyday acts that define me, rather than a linear narrative or a simple re-telling of 'a day in the life'. Thus combining to create a picture of: my daily life, through an abstracted version of 'the everyday'. To create a sense of 'the day' or linear progression of time I segmented my video with four still images of the sky in various stages of daylight (morning, midday, afternoon, evening) that match the lighting seen in each concurrent video segment. The everyday acts that define me were presented in a series of short video segments that include scenes of me catching the tram, recording music and riding my bike. To disrupt the sense of linear narrative the visual segments are bluntly edited together, with nothing linking the sequential shots and a quite abrupt ending. I also attempted to create an overall sense of confounded time and space by overlaying audio from certain video segments onto others. Long, singular focus, handheld shots were also used to enhance the sense of voyeuristic glimpses. Question: What did Annie Dillard write about? Options: - not enough information - How we spend our lives - Who we are not - How we spend our months === The correct answer is
A: How we spend our lives

Q: Macy peeked in, expecting to see Mallie Mae in her favorite chair. Instead, she was standing at a front window, staring at the sky. The matriarch spent most of her time in her bedroom these days. She had everything she needed right there. The room was spacious and beautifully furnished. And Macy was ready to jump at her command. "Did you finish your lunch, Mallie Mae?" The 75-year-old Mallie Mae Mobley loved Macy like the daughter she never had. "Yes, I'm finished. But tell Hadley the ham was dry." "You know that will hurt his feelings." "I don't care. I won't eat dry ham. I've told him over and over, but he keeps sending me dry ham." "Yes, Ma'am. I'll tell him. Macy walked over to pick up the tray. "What do you think about Lilman's fiance? "She a nice young lady, I suppose." "Macy--tell me what you really think." Macy studied Mallie Mae's face to make sure she really wanted to hear her opinion. "I'm not crazy about her." "I think she's awful--a crude money-hungry tramp." Macy tried not to smile. Mallie Mae went on. "If there was any way I could stop this wedding without alienated my son, I would do it in a heartbeat." "Just tell him how you feel." "No, no, no. Then he'll be determined to marry her--and he'll be mad at me. I wanted him to be a surgeon, you know. I had planned it since he was a little boy. He could have been a world-class surgeon." Macy had heard this story nearly every day since she took the job as a personal aide fifteen years earlier, after Mallie Mae had taken a fall and broken her leg. Question: Who was standing in front of a window? Options: - Mallie Mae Mobley - Lilman's fiance - not enough information - Macy === The correct answer is
A: Mallie Mae Mobley