Oh my god yes! ANOTHER HARLEM SHAKE DANCE!!!
A couple things that I had working against me going into DM: I slept like 4 hours a night the week before, and I had 5 cups of coffee the day of (yes I KNOW that you weren’t supposed to do that). I’m also so caffeine dependent that I might as well just take it intravenously at this point. So, like, dsklgjsiojklcxmv nerjeoijwsak. I am one tired motherfucker.
Block 1: I look around the tent. 30 hours in this bad boy. The feeling of “what the fuck have I gotten myself into god I really hate myself sometimes” comes on with the ferocity of an orgo midterm. The music starts. I bob my head with tepid enthusiasm. I should probably conserve energy. After all, it’s 30 fucking hours. I dance awkwardly. I realize that I’m not used to dancing in situations other than The Keg. I hate myself. It’s been 30 minutes. I have completely exhausted all of my dance moves. Ooh snack time! “All dancers with nut allergies please exit the tent.” Awkward, that’s me. They start playing music that people can get into (MY LIFE. WOULD SUCK. WITHOUUUUUT YOUUUUU) and this DM thing is kind of fun.
Block 2: Walked into the tent like what up I got a big cock. This block is thrift shop themed. The novelty of being in a tent full of Northwestern students dancing like idiots for a good cause is still going strong. Wait your outfit is actually perfect, can we take a picture? Wait stop where did you get that vest? We have to take a picture. “Thrift Shop” comes on. No one knows the words but we all pretend we do.
Block 3: This block is “adult swim.” People dance marginally more suggestively, I guess, but compared to a scene at The Keg we look like animals dancing in a Disney movie. I’m getting tired, but then I hear doom doom doom “Look. If you had… One shot…” and all is well. Wow, Northwestern students collectively know all of the words to “Lose Yourself.” We should give ourselves pats on the back. It’s time for another nut-laden snack. I actually leave the tent this time. I get a cupcake. I realize that I could have been doing this all along. I hate myself. Guys, it’s 4am, I’m kinda tired. I think I might take a little nap during the 10 minute break.
Block 4: WORST IDEA EVER. Napping felt so right. I never wanted to get up ever again. We pass Norbucks on the way down to the tent and I’m weighing the repercussions of hopping over the counter and eating a handful of coffee grinds. Everyone says that block 4 is the hardest. I just have to make it through this block and I’ll be home free. I dance as best I can. “Every Time We Touch” comes on. We got this, guys.
Block 5: It’s 7am. We are zombies. I physically cannot stand up. No, I cannot dance. It is past my bedtime. I would like to respectfully withdraw from Dance Marathon at this point. Somehow, the three hours pass. Somehow, make it through alive. That actually sucked, though. If block 4 was Mayor Tisdahl, block 5 was Mayor Tisdahl personally confiscating your fake.
Block 6: OVER HALF WAY!! I am on a high. We have danced for 15 hours and have only 15 to go!!! You guys, we’re doing awesome!! Yay being half way done!! Oh shit, One Direction! The Beatles! Oh, I get it! It’s because the theme is British Invasion! The blues of Block 5 are a thing of the past. I love DM!
Block 7: I’m still running on a “we’re over halfway done” high. They play “Titanium,” and I sing and dance my little heart out. They’ve definitely played this song before, but I don’t even care because Pitch Perfect. I can’t believe we’ve been dancing for 21 hours. You guys, we’re awesome. This is awesome. Only 9 hours to go!
Block 8: We have 9 fucking hours to go. The adrenaline of being over the halfway point is gone, and the finish line is not yet in sight. This feeling is worse than hitting a wall when studying for a final, because at least then my feet aren’t trapping this much moisture. Oh god, the “YMCA.” You guys, do you realize we almost made it 30 hours without having to hear that song? A nearby couple is dirty dancing. I mock them overly loudly. They relocate. Awww, the kids are dancing onstage. Holy fuck they’re adorable. My motivation is renewed.
Block 9: WOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Block 10: WOOO! The incredible adrenaline rush that everyone got during block 9 is still strong. Three hours is nothing. Danny’s father (as in Danny Did, the primary beneficiary) comes onstage and delivers a remarkably poignant tribute to his little boy. His beautiful words help us all to connect emotion to the money we’ve raised. I look around the tent and feel prouder than ever of Northwestern. Then they play “I Want it That Way” and everyone tearfully giggles. Weirdest song choice, but it’s perfect. The next two hours fly, with renewed waves of excitement each time they announce the highest fundraisers. Finally, they announce the grand total of 1.2 million. Holy shit you guys. I get why people do DM. It’s amazing. There’s just 20 more minutes of dancing at this point. It’s a big, emotional party. “What Makes You Beautiful” comes on. You guys, how did you know that that’s my dance around my room in my underwear song?? I lose my shit.
The next day: I wake up at 2:30 pm, but then it’s actually 3:30 pm because of fucking daylight savings time. Have ambitions of going to Starbucks. I climb out of my bed and collapse into a pathetic little pile. It turns out that I am sorer than I’ve ever been in my life. I make the executive decision that I will stay inside all day (what’s left of the day, fuck you daylight savings). I pour myself a cup of coffee, the headache alleviates (somewhat.) Hi Facebook. Yay touching Facebook statuses. Stati? Statuses. I shall like all of them. I should make a touching status. I’m going to write this article instead.
Sherman Ave 
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