Jason had been sitting alone at his table, staring at the tall, platinum blonde for an hour. His imagination ran wild with thoughts of kissing her full lips while his hands explored her lean, muscled body. Tonight he didn't need the whiskey to warm him up. But he kept drinking it anyway. She stepped away from the mike, sat her acoustic guitar on its stand, and walked down from the small stage. Jason beat all the other losers to the bar and sat down beside her. "You must be pretty thirsty after all that beautiful singing." How many times had she heard that line? But at age 33, she'd probably heard every pickup line known to man. "Yeah," she said, giving him a quick glance. He wasn't a bad looking guy. Probably a couple of inches shorter than her. At six-foot-two, she was accustomed to that. But a lot of men couldn't deal with her height. They liked to be the tall one in the relationship. Not that she'd had many relationships. Mostly one-nighters. Without her saying a word, the bartender sat a glass of ice down in front of her, and poured her a can of Diet Coke. "Thanks, Joe." She took a sip as he walked away. "I'm Jason." "Sondra," she said, looking straight ahead as she took another sip. "I really enjoyed your music--especially that last song. Did you write it yourself?" "Yeah." "Wow. It was sad, but moving. You've got talent." Here we go, she thought. And I suppose you're a talent agent or a record producer, or you've got a friend in the business. And you'd be more than happy to get me a record deal--assuming I'd be willing to go with you right now to some sleazy motel. "I'm sick of this business. In fact, you just heard my last performance. First thing Monday morning I'm going out to find me a real job. One that will pay the bills." Question: Immediately after the end of this text, Sondra is: Options: - not sick of the business - looking for a real job - not enough information - following Jason === The correct answer is
looking for a real job

(Question)
Today is not a good day. It is my own fault of course ~ I thought I had lost weight so I stood on the scales. Once again my number was way higher than I wanted it to be and it brought all my darkest fears to the surface once again. My mind keeps telling me, "Of course this will never work!" I FEEL LIKE THE SPECIAL NEEDS KID IN CLASS I no longer feel like I am part of the 'in' crowd. I don't have a gang to hang out with. I feel like I have gone weird and no-one wants to play with me anymore. If I'm not blogging about how much weight I've lost or how I've fallen head first into a binge then no-one seems to care. IT IS SO FUCKING SLOW I have been 'off' diet for nearly 2 months and I am still figuring things out. I haven't lost any weight even though my intention is to drop a few kilos. I swing from perfectly happy to confused and bewildered for no apparent reason. I just want to be fixed. I want to easily achieve my naturally slender body and I want it NOW thank you very much. I MISS MY OLD LIFE When I was a very small child I used to suck my thumb. Once I stopped and I got braces my mouth shape was totally different and my thumb never fit properly again. I can still remember the comforting sensation of sucking my thumb that has now is gone forever. Same thing with my old life. I miss the control, I miss the joy of a low scale number and I miss the pride in winning against all the odds. I know it is only because I forgotten the pain but my old life was familiar and predicitable and this one isn't. I HAVE NOWHERE ELSE TO GO It is clear that dieting will never be a long term solution for managing my weight as I have proven over and over again in the past 5 years, so if listening to my body doesn't work either, then I'll have nowhere else to go except blobsville. I feel like this is my last chance and I'm stuffing it up. Question: How does the author probably feel their life now? Options: - That their life is more boring than before - not enough information - That their life is eventful - That their life is awful === The correct answer is
(Answer)
That their life is awful

I woke at dawn when Digger climbed over me to get out of bed, and I woke again an hour later when Pa called, "Everyone up who wants breakfast!" Across the room, Little Bit was dressing in a T-shirt and jeans that had been mine a year before. Ma had put a stack of clean clothes at the foot of the bed for me. I dressed without caring what I put on. The only important items were my cowboy boots and my Roy Rogers belt with two holsters for cap guns, even though I only had one cap gun left, and its trigger was broken. When I used the toilet, I sat on the front edge of the seat, watching the water beneath me, and scooted off as soon as I was done. I had seen a cartoon in a book at Grandpa Abner's that showed a fish leaping out of a toilet bowl and a woman staring at it with big eyes. I thought that was funny and I knew it was impossible, but I didn't think there was any reason to take chances. Ma called, "Little Bit has to use the bathroom." I yelled, "I'm almost done." Ma called, "Are you off the toilet?" I yelled, "Yes!" Ma opened the door and brought Little Bit in. Squeezing toothpaste onto my toothbrush, I said, "I wasn't done yet." Ma said, "Your father's making breakfast in the restaurant." That meant we should hurry, so I slid the brush over my teeth while Little Bit sat next to the sink, and then I ran out of the house. Stepping into the sunlight was stepping into Florida. I didn't smell oranges -- Ma had explained that oranges grew further south -- but I smelled a humid pinelands that was not like the New Orleans suburb I had known. Question: What did the narrator smell? Options: - Humid pinelands - Oranges - Breakfast - not enough information === The correct answer is
Humid pinelands