Ques: Went straight from a facility that deals with homeless children (492 1st Ave, Manhattan, New York) to the extreme outskirts of Queens near Kennedy Airport about 20 miles away. It was winter and I had no coat. I had my book bag and my sole Trader Joe’s bag of clothing and was loaded into a van with three social workers. During the long drive in traffic, I fell asleep, so waking up at my new home, I couldn’t make out any street signs and the numbering on the houses did not indicate whether I was in a home in the Bronx or Eastern Queens (which share the same street numbering in certain instances). My foster parents showed me my room and left a plate of food on the table. They barricaded themselves in their bedroom quite like how pilots barricade themselves behind the fortified cockpit door. However, my room didn’t have a lock, and neither did the bathroom. There were bars on my windows with a view of a church parking lot. I took great care to avoid waking a significantly older teen (I was 14, so he must have been 19–20) sleeping on the other bed. I heard two other kids (my foster siblings) in the other room playing music and giggling loudly at 3 in the morning. At 4 in the morning, my foster father started reading the Quran pretty loudly, and then he goes back to bed. In the morning, my foster parents are gone. My foster siblings are all sleeping. I got up at 7, but I don’t know how far I am from my high school, what buses/train will take me there, and still don’t know anything about anything about my new home. I don’t even know the names of those I’m relegated to living with. The unnerving strangeness and disorientation hat comes with knowing that your life has changed and the culture shock that comes with that is so scary and desensitizes you on that first day. Who fell asleep on the van?  A. a baby  B. not enough information  C. An adopted child  D. A foster child
Ans: D

Ques: Yes, it's actually happened to me before. Let me explain before I get called irresponsible, or incapable of having a dog, or incompetent, My dog is my baby, since the day I got her we've been inseparable. I learned from this mistake and have taken every precaution to prevent it from happening again. She was uninjured luckily, but I was freaking traumatized. I have a SUUUUPPPPEEEERRR long driveway, so I usually drive my truck to the end to check my mail, and on this particular day, I was out in my yard playing with Roxie, I saw the mailman drive by through my fence, and so we walked back to the house, I grabbed my keys, and off we went. This wasn't too long ago, maybe May, so it's hot, typical North Carolina weather, maybe 92 and some change, so my windows are down, because I drive a 13 year old black truck, so it's hot as hell, and it makes it hard to breathe. The AC works, it just takes time to kick in, and number 5 (my highest AC setting) does not work. As I'm driving down, I'm going maybe 5 miles an hour. I'm petting Roxie with my right hand when I feel her jerk out of my reach and I hear a bush rustle, I look to the passenger side, slam on brakes (because the last thing I want is to hurt my baby) and put the truck in park. Sure enough, my mom and her Chihuahua were out in the front yard, and Roxie, being her playful self jumped out and ran. She scared the absolute shit out of me, so now when I drive with her in the car, the window stays shut or cracked. Lesson learned. When did the author learn to leave the window shut or cracked?  A. not enough information  B. after their dog jumped out  C. when they walked back to the house  D. before they got the dog
Ans: B

Ques: Personally I enjoy doing things outside. You know, the good ol’ nature. One time, me and my buddy Alex and some friends decided we were going to go camping. (I know, basic camping story. Well not exactly.) We planned on going for the weekend. Got to the spot and put up our tents like normal campers. But knowing myself and my friends we wanted to drink a couple beers and do some fishing. We did just that. Later that night we had started out camp fire and cooked up some links before bed time. My drunk self wanted to keep the fire going all night to prevent wild animals from coming t our sight. Well at least I thought that’d help. So I needed a bunch of wood to do so. Everyone was asleep by this point but me. So I took myself out into the woods a little deeper to grab a full broken down tree. I thought to myself, “Well if I want to utilize all of this wood I’m going to need to break it into smaller prices right?” Wrong. Well at least it was wrongful of how I planned on doing it. I attempted to break the tree in half by throwing it against another tree, as if I were as strong as the hulk or something. Once I chunked the tree at this tree I messed the entire vacation up. The tree came down on my knee and crushed it. I was in so much pain. I realized that I messed it up pretty bad so I laid there for a second trying to get back to my feet. The next day I couldn’t apply any pressure and couldn’t walk at all. I was dirty and smelly and needed some serious help on my leg but I was too far from any civilization. Worst nature experience ever! What kind of alcohol does the narrator like to drink?  A. Vodka.  B. Rum.  C. Beer.  D. not enough information
Ans: C

Ques: I have known, and admired, Julia Busuttil Nishimura, for many years now and always felt connected through our love of Italian food, Tuscany (Julia lived in Florence and in Orbetello, just 10 minutes away from where we lived in Porto Ercole while I was writing Acquacotta) and Japan. So I have been eagerly awaiting her debut cookbook, Ostro: The Pleasure that Comes From Slowing Down and Cooking with Simple Ingredients, and it is a beauty — it is full of food I want to make and eat. It’s also a joy to look at, as it is presented so beautifully with photographs of Julia (and often her darling little boy Haruki) at home and tables full with food that look Caravaggesque. I have already made her everyday banana loaf, several times, after years of searching for my ideal everyday cake, it is now my go-to banana loaf. I tested her ricciarelli (soft almond cookies from Siena) and pork braised in milk (a classic Italian dish that I have always loved) when she was writing the book and I have long-known her absolutely wonderful, incredibly moist lemon olive oil cake (which is also divine with blood oranges). I absolutely love her homemade approach to everything, including all the wonderful handmade pasta like trofie and orecchiette (look at those beautiful dishes below), but also things like classic tiramisu — homemade savoiardi, homemade mascarpone (yes and yes, I absolutely believe that for the freshest, most delicious mascarpone, it needs to be homemade especially if you live outside of Italy). Yes, these are all things you can also buy in a packet, but Julia’s point is, it is a pleasure to make these things by hand, and the ingredients are so simple — water, flour, cream, eggs, — you probably have them all in your house already. She is a woman after my own heart. Her book inspires you to give it a go. Why was the author eagerly awaiting a debut cookbook?  A. not enough information  B. They had known and admired Julia Busuttil Nishimura for many years  C. They were interested in the recipes  D. They didn't know how to cook
Ans:
B