somebody shoot me: a friday night in africa spent watching “out of africa”.

this is almost as depressing as that time i watched blue valentine and drank a bottle of wine by myself.

it’s a friday night and i’m lying in bed at 8pm.  sadly this is not an unusual event.  the biggest thing i have planned for the rest of evening: writing this blog post and trying to power through the meryl streep/robert redford disaster out of africa (seriously.  it’s awful).  i would try sleeping, but unfortunately that isn’t really an option at my house.  when you look out from my balcony you can see the beautiful rolling hills of bushenyi, uganda.  unfortunately, if you look just immediately out from the balcony, you can see the “bushenyi miracle center.” now there isn’t necessarily anything wrong aesthetically or architecturally with the miracle center (aside from it’s creepy circular shape- you can never trust a building that is circular), however on friday nights (and other random nights throughout the week) the people in attendance start chanting and “singing” in an unreasonably loud and outrageously annoying manner (and we’re not talking about people passionately singing “shout to the lord” or “how great is our god,” this is bloodcurdling howls and screams- i sometimes wonder what exactly they are doing).  it’s about 8 pm, which means that they’ll be wailing for at least another 6 hours (that guess in on the conservative side.  sometimes i’ve awoken at 8 am to hear them still at it, a good 12-13 hours after they had begun).

out of africa. this movie is just awful- you know it’s a bad movie when you can’t even stand robert redford (just kidding.  aside from his work behind the camera on quiz show and his appearances opposite paul newman, he’s pretty lackluster).  i can’t decide what’s worse: meryl streep’s accent or how awful white people in africa are (seriously, white people in africa are terrible people, especially american ladies with phony danish accents).  fun fact: do you know how you can tell that meryl streep isn’t really danish?  because danish women are a ridiculously attractive (yes.  i am saying that meryl streep isn’t ridiculously attractive).

nothing sexier than having the sundance kid washing your hair with schisto-infested water.

friday nights in america are something i like to idealize when i’m alone lying in bed in uganda.  particularly on evenings such as this where i’m stuck watching a crappy 1980’s cinema “classic” and listening to wailing miracle center attendees.  in america i’d be out partying and living it up.  not really, but i like to think that i would be doing something better than lying under a mosquito net after taking a freezing cold shower (also, the electricity wouldn’t be intermittent).  it is more likely that instead of “living it up”, i’d be at the goodman community center chilling with mr. michael schulenberg, mr. santana flint, ms. lumber-jack laurel, ms. kassidy rosenthal, and ms. rachel eve olsen.  we’d be listening to some local punk and/or metal bands pretending to be great.  we’d also be relentlessly mocking the “scene kids” for their unfortunate choices in clothing and hairstyles (ah, the good old days).   after the concert was over, i’d drive home and pass out.  the passing out wouldn’t be due to drugs or alcohol i’d been taking while “rocking out” at the concert (bands nights at the goodman community center are strictly substance-free events for madison area teens).  no, the passing out would be due to the fact that i had just worked 16 hours at three different jobs (i lived a very glamorous life in the states- but, hey, at least i had hot water!).

while friday night seems like it’s been a bit of a wash, at least i can hit up the pool tomorrow with some white faces.  the pool serves in two capacities: therapy for my recovering knee (i’m thinking about even trying to ditch the crutch tomorrow! although that might be a bad idea since it hurt so badly today that i barely left bed) and the good white faces are therapy for my mental stability (especially since robert redford and meryl streep are really making me hate my own race).

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