4:00 PM Friday: Arrive in CRC lounge ready for DM check-in. Sit around. Realize I should have found a dinner substitute before getting there.
6:41 PM Friday: Finally get in the tent. It’s crazy inside. Feels like a movie. Realize I don’t have cell service: can I get messages to Twitter? Barely.
6:56 PM Friday: My roommate arrives, immediately punches me in the face trying to hug me.
7:00 PM Friday: Block 1 starts. I already feel like I can’t make it.
8:19 PM Friday: They try to teach us the “30 hour dance.” I realize I’m not coordinated to move my legs and shake my arms at the same time.
8:30 PM Friday: I’ve run out of dance moves.
8:38 PM Friday: 1.5 hours in. Delirium has set in: I start to enjoy justin bieber. More important: pizza hits the dance floor. (not literally)
10:00 PM Friday: First break. If it hurts this bad now, how am I going to make it 10 times longer?
12:30 AM Saturday: I discover they escort you to the bathroom. Just looking at the lines waiting for a chaperon makes me have to pee. Also makes me want to punch DR in the face. All of their faces.
1:00 AM Saturday: What I tweeted–24 hours left! Still moving. What I meant: 24 hours left. Unfathomable. Kill me.
2:32 AM Saturday: Things hurt that i didn’t know could hurt. Round two of alleve. Let’s do this shit. For 23.5 more hours.
3:45 AM Saturday: Man butt sighted during dirty block. Image seared into my brain. Too far. Zach’s dancing makes movement possible again.
Sometime when it was still dark: I borrow shorts from the wondrous Laura Klein, who bought enough shorts to clothe the population of Puerto Rico. Main reason: so I would have the flexibility to put my feet up in the auditorium seats during breaks.
4:00 AM Saturday: I try gel insoles. Plan backfires–feet hurt worse.
6:47 AM Saturday: Extended bathroom breaks make me feel like i’m in 1st grade again. But better. Also: foot massage girl–you gypped me. I hope my feet smelled like Death sprayed too much axe this morning.
6:48 AM Saturday: Sun came out. I hate my life.
7:45 AM Saturday: I fall asleep involuntarily for the first time, while WALKING to breakfast (but stay on my feet). Fall asleep for realsies during dancers. But not into my cereal, which is my goal.
9:16 AM Saturday: Am I on my 17th wind? 25th? I’ve lost count. Diggin the disco.
10: 00AM Saturday: Only halfway done?! If I could amputate most of my limbs at this point i would do it in a heartbeat. They make us run around Norris. I’m cold, my legs haven’t seen sunlight in 3 months, and that stupid hill is hell. Slightly invigorated. Mostly angsty.
11:00 AM Saturday: Caffeine withdrawals. Also feel like puking. But still sane as far as i can tell. Unless the 30 hour dance is a hallucination. Have taken 4 times the amount of Alleve I should have in my system in 24 hours in 6. Start rationing myself to one pill every couple blocks.
12:53 PM Saturday: Just looked at a person and thought they were a cardboard cutout. Dementia setting in.
1:02 PM Saturday: Praying for some more lady gaga to get me through #NUDM alive. They do not oblige.
1:38 PM Saturday: The more time i spend at #NUDM the more my dancing becomes that of an 89 year old man. Cue the shuffle and point fingers dance.
2:53 PM Saturday: have lost all hope that this will ever end.
3:45 PM Saturday: I have conquered pain.
4:15 PM Saturday: Retract last statement. I attempt to make massaging my own back a dance move. But my phone is dead so i can’t tweet that. At least I went out happy to the internet world.
8:00 PM Saturday: As long as my feet are moving, they don’t hurt. As long as my hands are in the air, I’m awake. Cue most active dancing I’ve ever done.
10:00 PM Saturday-1:00 AM Sunday: last block of #NUDM made it all worth it. Wish they would stop playing such good songs so I could take a break. CRC executes an absolutely perfect spontaneously coordinated rendition of Bohemian Rhapsody.
Post 1:00 AM Sunday: For the love of god, please don’t let me convince myself to do that again.