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: What how many diets has the narrator probably been on? === The answer to the above question is
OPTIONS:
- 5
- 8 or more
- 3
- not enough information

Answer: not enough information

Question: The air exploded in a flash of bone and steel and blood. The clash of metal rang through the forest. An arrow pierced through the darkness, its barbed head tearing through flesh and muscle. A roar echoed off of the mountains far to the west. A cry broke through soon after. Then silence. Char stood over a pile of black fur and red blood. He held a curved sword, jagged half way down the wide blade and hilted in bone. He held a large thick bow in the other. Lorfel and Ranur stood behind him, panting. Lorfel, a short man of twenty six held a large axe in both hands and still prepared to swing it hard. Ranur, the largest of the three held a pike in one hand, its tip hanging low towards the ground. He buried his other hand in his gray tunic. "Did it get either of you?" Char's voice rasped low in the silence of the night. "No" Lorfel said. He planted his axe head on the ground with a thud and leaned on the tall handle. There was a pause. Char turned towards Ranur. "Are you hurt?" "Mm...My hand." Ranur took his hand out of his tunic. Moonlight gleamed red off of the ragged wound. Char thought he saw a glimmer of bone. "Did he claw you or bite you?" Char's voice held an urgency that set both Lorfel and Ranur on edge. Ranur paused and then spoke low. "He bit me." Char picked Lorfel and Ranur as his hunting partners for their speed and sharpness in battle. They had hunted beasts of the deep woods all of their lives. They hunted the beasts that hunted men. They all knew the risks of battling such creatures. The old man dropped his curved sword, drew his bow, and fired. The arrow hammered into Ranur's chest, burying itself in his heart. Lorfel saw the gleaming arrow head sticking almost a foot out of his companion's back. Ranur fell face first to the ground. Question: Immediately after the end of this text, Ranur is: === The answer to the above question is
OPTIONS:
- on the ground
- in the sky
- standing up
- not enough information
Answer: on the ground

Question: There was a boy named Chan who loved his parents, though they did not love him back; he was not even given a first name. He had been born in the wrong month, during the wrong phase of the moon, his parents told him, and had brought them nothing but bad luck. The promotion at the factory promised to his father was taken away at the last moment. The garden his mother worked in nearly every day never produced anything more than the most meager of weeds since Chan's birth. It was often sunny in the little Chinese village, but there was an almost constant gloom over their house, as if a rogue cloud were blocking the sun only over their property. And his parents, of course, blamed Chan for everything. He was small for his age, and usually quiet. He liked to listen to people instead of talking, filling himself with stories. He was a good boy and always did as he was told, and could see the good in his parents, even if others couldn't. Every so often, his mother would allow him a sweet, or his father would bring home an origami folding kit. They didn't like to show it to others, but his parents could be kind. Chan was patient and knew they would love him eventually. He was digging one day between the fence and the west side of the house for grubs to feed to his pet chameleon, Rainbow. It was a warm July day not long after his tenth birthday. He often went there because it was cool and damp from the shade of the trees, and the worms seemed to like it there. He never took more than he needed, then he thanked the grubs for sacrificing their lives so that Rainbow could remain living and being his pet. Chan was very kind-hearted when it came to grubs. Question: How long has Chan most likely been alive? === The answer to the above question is
OPTIONS:
- 65 years
- 10 years
- 35 years
- not enough information
Answer:
10 years