The city is like a basket

The city is like a basket because you weave and weave and weave....at least I did today. Hello first official free day in Macau, let's go explore on our own! And so she did.... Today I went to try and find the church I will be attending tomorrow morning that was recommended by one of the ETAs from last year. This church is on Taipa, the other island, and not all the buses go to Taipa, so the former ETA had recommended a few buses that do go there and given me directions of what to do after I got off the bus. I got on bus number 22, which said Taipa in the window, and then it didn't go there... I'm not sure what happened, but the bus driver let everyone off in the heart of the non-tourist part of the city. Joy! I was fine. These things really don't freak me out. It was more the thought of 'why did I carry SOOO much stuff with me?!?' It got heavy quickly. But no worries, I tried to walk my way out of the high rises to where I might spot a border or a casino. This did not work. Okay, plan C- I popped into a Cafe that seemed English-esque, asked a guy to point me in the general direction of our hotel/school/something familiar, and he gave me a bus number. Ta da! Hotel.

Then I started over again. How in the world am I going to get to this church in less than 43 days worth of travel? So I walked to the other end of the casino strip and got on the free Sands bus to the Venetian. This bus I knew went to Taipa. Once in Taipa (and having found some of the other ETAs on the way), I proceeded to look for the church. I found the street it was on, but by then it was so dark that I never actually found it. What this means: tomorrow's blog is bound to be interesting. Does she find it, does she not? Ohh, the suspense. (This is better than the Simple Life with Paris Hilton [and that's hott]).

Mean while, back at the ranch and outside of those events, it was a very blahhh kind of moody day. Since today was my first non-scheduled time where I got to choose what to do and be by myself, I got a little sad....and it was rainy. I really missed my mom today. She's pretty worth missing most days, and I've been pretty good at not thinking about it. Today was clearly not a success. --but I move forward with this bit of wisdom, "homesickness is [merely] the absence of the familiar." Good things came out of missing my mom though. I could only think of one thing to do to solve this problem since I clearly am not getting on a plane home (did you miss the blog about signing the next 10 months of my life away?!?)...back to the solution...I bought chocolate. Yep. I thought, if my mom were here, we would have chocolate (probably chocolate milk specifically). Today I bought a Snickers in honor of my mother, which fits because she brings me lots of laughs.

Early this morning, before getting lost and buying a Snickers in the grocery store while I was 'lost-ish', I exercised. You read that right--I EXERCISED! In fact, I went big and exercised. I got on the hotel eliptical and went to town for 32 minutes, or about 150 calories (which was about one bite of that Snickers). The eliptical told me that I ran 13km! I was so proud of myself....until I did the math and realized there was no human way that I had ran 8 miles. Haha. I would feel good if that were 4 miles. In reality I probably did about 2.5 miles, but hey, it sounds good. The not so good part was the guy in charge of the exercise room strategically standing behind me to watch TV while I ran in my swimsuit short bottoms (I originally planned to swim after the run). There is something to be said about flattery and feeling beautiful, but getting oggled at is such the lameness.
[Jessica, don't read this to Hunter and Hayley]
It's happened more than once here, and as I have been informed  there is apparently an Asian fettish for white chicks? I don't know. Side note while we're on the stupid topic of men not controlling themselves---uhhhhggg--prostitution is alive and well in the gambling capital of Asia. So well in fact that (although you don't see prostitutes in the streets) there are pamphlets and cards scattered everywhere lining the streets and stairs. The hilarious part is that some of them have pictures of Avril Lavigne and Beyonce, who are clearly not here offering those services.

I am safe here, so no worries about that. I am not scared, merely disgusted. But Macau is no exception to the norm. Moral of the story: control is a personal issue--for both men and women--so please be personally responsible.

I'm out of time on this hotel computer==bad note to end on, but must post. Love you all. Take care. Gosh, I'm sassy today.