It was a good feast. Celenda's manservant had purchased two of the biggest and strongest oxen in Fena Kef and they now roasted over the hall's two huge braziers. The smell filled Celenda's nostrils. She closed her eyes and laid back on her silk divan, enjoying the sights and sounds. Her finger fiddled with a torn seam on the divan's armrest and her pleasure faded. She would have flogged her seamstress for allowing such a thing but the woman had fled a year ago. She could barely afford clothing acceptable to a woman of her position, though few could say for certain what that position was, so she simply wore less clothes overall. She raised her arms behind her back and let the warmth of the braziers flow over her body. Though the number shrank, many still enjoyed Celenda's frequent celebrations. Some laughed and shouted on one side, some coupled in the dark shadows and behind silk curtains. Most feasted and drank and everyone partook in the red lotus. Celenda beckoned a thin slave boy, one of her last few, and he came holding a bronze bowl. Dried red leaves covered the bottom of the bowl. 'Why is this bowl not full?' she shouted at the boy. He cringed but she could tell he was not really frightened. She could not afford to injure or kill him and everyone knew it. She slapped him, but not hard. If she hit too hard she would find herself with one less slave along with her diminishing supply of the red leaf. Instantly the thoughts of the crumbling villa, the torn furniture, and the diminishing coffers fled from her mind. Euphoria flowed in. She felt it in her fingers and toes. Celenda inhaled the crushed red leaves probably because: Pick the correct answer from the following options: - Celenda was under the influence - Celenda was tired - Celenda was sleepy - not enough information
Celenda was under the influence

The surgeon who had delivered my son by C-section an hour earlier stepping back from the table, and saying, “We're done, people. Good job, everyone!” That hour had been hell for everyone in the room, save only my little boy, sleeping peacefully in the warming crib, and his mother, who was just stirring from the general that had put her under about 55 minutes earlier. I had come within a few minutes, maybe seconds, of raising my boy as a single parent. Her OB/GYN had fought valliently to keep my family together, and won. Everyone who'd been awake knew exactly how close run a thing it had been. Mr. Murphy had been hanging around the whole time, and neither Doc nor mom was catching a whole lot of breaks that evening. But Doc only needed one, and he made full use thereof. One thing for all new dad's whose wives have had previous abdominal surgery. You never want to hear the muttered words, “Creative anatomy on the way out”, when somebody has your wife’s belly open. Those are about the worst words in the world, because they mean Doc's gotta put stuff to right in there, and he might not have what he'd like in order to get it done. But when he stands back, after the sponge count had to be done twice, and the tool count is right, and the belly is stapled closed, and everyone in the room is still breathing… Just let it be known that the roving nurse has extra sponges for dad's nose. Oh yeah, and the neonatal nurses don't expect dad to change that first diaper. Maconium is nasty shit. Litterally. But I was happy to do it while talking to his groggy mom. Where was the C-section happening? Pick the correct answer from the following options: - In the surgery room. - In the clinic. - not enough information - In the hospital.
In the surgery room.

As I mentioned in my previous post on Sacré-Coeur, one of the other places I didn’t get a chance to see when I was in Paris last summer was the catacombs so I wanted to be sure to fit in a visit this time around. Long Queue vs Online Tickets You can either wait in line to get in or buy tickets online for specific time slots to bypass the line. Wait times can be anywhere from 30 minutes to 3+ hours and in the summer time, it’s common to wait for hours. I definitely recommend buying a ticket online. Keep in mind that they have a limited number of tickets for each time slot, so don’t wait too long to buy or you may be stuck in that loooooong line. We got quite a few less-then-friendly looks from those in the line when we bypassed the entire queue and went right in. C’est la vie (insert Gallic shrug here). For some inexplicable reason, the site says you must print your tickets if you buy them online. Given that most visitors to the catacombs are tourists with limited or no access to a printer, this seems particularly silly, but what can you do? Luckily, we were in a hotel with a small business center so we printed our tickets there. Online tickets cost quite a bit more (27€ compared to 12€ for adults and 10€ for those age 26 or under). Totally worth it if that works with your budget. Online tickets also come with an audio guide. If you buy tickets at the door, the guide is an extra 5€. It’s a nice cool 14°C (57°F) down there, a lovely break from the hot summer weather above. It is damp in places and the ground can be slippery so watch your step as you walk. Where did the author print her tickets? Pick the correct answer from the following options: - the hotel - not enough information - down in the catacombs - in line

the hotel