We all present these glossy lives to the world; coffee cups presented to dewy sunrises, champagne in airport lounges, luxurious restaurants that cost more than they should and share the blue skies days of exploration. I'm as guilty as anyone. But, what about behind those scenes? Those days where the wind is so strong you can't instastory for talking (I'm looking at you Cornwall), when travel mistakes happen (like in Vienna where I accidentally booked our trip a day short) or when everyone asks you what your next trip will be and you sheepishly have to answer 'er, not sure'. So I thought I'd get a few things off my chest, and confess a few of the reasons why I probably shouldn't be calling myself a travel blogger. And yes, these are all very much first world problems. 1. I hate photographs of myself. Ironic, no? Especially when one of the first rules of blogging is all about the cult of personality. I just don't like them. I wish I did, but there are few times that I fancy a photo and even less when I like the result. 2. We nip into a MacDonalds at least once every trip. It has now become a tradition between nicer restaurants to nip in and order a Big Mac and fries at some point of our trip but especially in Europe for some reason. Why do their MacDonalds meals taste better? 3. Pastels aren't really my shade. Again, I wish I could be super girly, twirling in gossamer skirts painted in spring shades but I'm just not. My colour palette is decidedly autumnal/jewel hued and usually sticks to a scarf draped around my neck in a hopefully fashionable manner. And I'm totally ok with that. 4. I once travelled all the way to New Zealand and back (stopping in 3 countries enroute) without a lens cap on my brand new, fairly expensive camera. This is in no way a #humblebrag about the trip, but a comment on how impractical I can be and how careful I also am. I lovingly wrapped my camera in a soft scarf every day for 3 weeks, growled under my breath at anyone who looked like they might jostle me and at one point found... According to the above context, choose the correct option to answer the following question. Question: What is probably true about the writer? Options: A. She humblebrags B. She is British or from a Commonwealth country C. She loves pastels D. not enough information
B

The next morning I called up my friend, Nick Unger, who worked for the police department. He agreed to meet me at the Casbah, a glorious little dive bar a few blocks from my apartment. It opened first thing in the morning, realizing the best drunks start early. By the time he showed up I was already deep into my third drink and trying charm the bartender, Maggie, into comping my fourth. I was failing miserably as usual, but at least it was fun trying. As soon as Nick walked through the front door, I slammed my palm down on the bar top. "Tricky Nicky! Have a drink, brother!" He slid onto the bar stool beside me and smiled warmly at the bartender. "Has this low life been giving you grief, Maggie?" She grinned at him. "Only since I opened the front door." Nick winked at her and ordered a half-pint of stout. "Pansy," I scoffed and slammed the rest of my whiskey. He shook his head. "God I miss you, you mad bastard. I can't imagine why Andrea won't let you come around the house anymore." I shrugged. "I know, it's like as soon as she started squirting out brood, she suddenly gets all uptight about people starting fires in the middle of your living room." "Imagine," he said as he raised his glass of beer. I clinked my empty glass to his. "So guess who I ran into last night at Jenny's wedding?" He shrugged. "Brian Lopez." He chuckled. "No shit. How is old Double-Dip?' "Fat and sad," I replied while waving Maggie over for a refill. "And married to a smoking hottie. Well, married or engaged or whatever." Nick nodded. "I met her. They were at a Police Union dinner around the holidays. She's a butterface." I arched my eyebrow. "She had a face?" Maggie rolled her eyes while she filled my glass. Nick caught her glance. "I know, he's got no class, but what are you gonna do?" "Anyways," I continued, "she's way too hot for him, and that's not gonna end well. You just know that one of these days he's gonna come home and find her with the pool boy or some shit." According to the above context, choose the correct option to answer the following question. Question: What time does the Casbah open? Options: A. 9:00 am B. 8:00 am C. not enough information D. 7:00 am
C

Q: The bright Sunday morning sun illuminated the stained glass windows, diffusing multi-colored hues across the congregation. Attendance is up today, thought Greg. As the organist was nearing the end of the Prelude, he stepped up to the podium. "Please take your hymnals and turn to page 23, and let's stand and sing 'Holy, Holy, Holy.'" Holy, holy, holy! Lord God Almighty! Early in the morning, our song shall rise to Thee... As Greg sang and conducted the 4/4 pattern, which he could do in his sleep, his mind began to wander. Shouldn't he feel guilty about what he was thinking last night while kissing Cynthia on the couch? His actions had been within the bounds of acceptable behavior. He had nothing to be ashamed of in that regard. But what about his thoughts? It wasn't what he did with Cynthia--it was what he wanted to do. He didn't want to dishonor her or his commitment to God. But his feelings had been only natural. God created humans and gave them sexual desire. Wasn't it okay to want to have sex, as long as you didn't actually do it? Then he remembered the passage from Matthew 5:28. But I say to you, that whosoever shall look on a woman to lust after her, hath already committed adultery with her in his heart. At the end of the hymn, Greg stepped back and Dr. Huff went to the podium and said a prayer. Then there were announcements, two more hymns, and a chorus. After the offering, it was time for the choir to sing their anthem. When Greg motioned to the choir to stand, Cynthia smiled at him from the Alto section. She was so incredibly beautiful. Standing there in her choir robe, she looked like a redheaded angel. If they could just get married, Greg could stop feeling guilty about his desire for her. According to the above context, choose the correct option to answer the following question. Question: The choir was asked to sing their anthem Options: A. After the offering B. While th prayer C. Before the hymn D. not enough information
A: A