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Issue 24.5: February 2009
Posted: February 19, 2009

COLUMBIA UNIVERSITY DANCE MARATHON

It’s for the kids. No really, guys, it is.

Rachel Katz, Caity Sigler


Columbia University's Dance Marathon is an annual ascetic sacrifice made by over-privileged, self-righteous college students to give daddy's money to the worthy cause of fighting pediatric AIDS. CUDM is 28 hours of standing/dancing/zoning out (on your feet), sitting only during mealtime. There are rules: No caffeine, no looking at the time, no alcohol, no drugs. So basically, prison. Except in prison you have a bed. And a prison shank. The following is a brief account of our experience in the format of a liveblog, written during the actual experience.

Arrival, SATURDAY: 10 AM. The 170 participants meet in the John Jay lounge. Some sport the retro sweatband look with a spandex ensemble, while others, like ourselves, are in a simple jeans and sneakers combination. There is a girl in the corner wearing heels. We cannot fathom this.

10:15. We are given bagels and eggs to "carboload;" however, the bagels and eggs taste like NYC condoms and air, respectively. We are also given bandanas for our team colors. They, like the bagels, are cheap and donated.

11:45. We are following the marching band on a parade from JJ to Lerner. We cannot hide our shame. They are playing "Livin' on a Prayer" before noon on a Saturday.

12:00. Arrive in Roone and immediately go to drop off bags in our personal College Boxes (donated). Stop abruptly to watch some lesbians make out. They are the flannel team.

NOTE: From here, the times are estimated. We are no longer allowed to look at cell phones, watches, or ask people for the time. Also, the windows are blacked out, so we can't even use the Druid method of telling time from the position of the sun.

12:15. We just learned the line dance to the song "It's a Beautiful Life." There's a lot of running and jumping involved. The "Steering Committee" announced that upon hearing the opening notes, we must stop whatever we are doing, be it using the bathroom or engaging in sexual activity, and sprint to the dance floor to perform said dance. We are informed that the song will play every hour. Welcome to hell.

1:00. 60s Hour. Beatles. Jefferson Airplanes. We play with coloring books. No one dances.

2:30. They're playing songs we can actually dance to! Everyone likes "Yellow Submarine" while smoking a J, but as the introduction to a dance marathon, it seemed like a poor choice. We are now groovin' to Britney and BSB. Orange team cheer: "Grow the orange, grow, grow the orange. Peel the orange, peel, peel the orange." Blue team cheer: "Orange sucks our balls. BLLLUUUUEEEE. AYYAYAYAY." Orange team won the cheer competition. But they gave us fellatio. Burn.

2:45. Our friend has discovered the costume box. She is now wearing a purple wig, a leopard print cowboy hat, black fairy wings (her own), mardi gras beads, and Elton John glasses. She's blowing bubbles.

5:30. "Is that boy making a basketball hoop? He's tying a broom and a hula hoop together with a jump rope...That's really innovative!"
"Oh my god, that is really creative! Wait-"
"Why is he running?"
"OH MY GOD! HE'S CHASING THE FAT BOY WEARING ALLIE'S FAIRY WINGS! OH MY GOD IT'S A FAIRY AND A FAIRY-HUNTER!"

??. Bhangra / Ballroom: Don't know the time. These people taught us dances. We tried our hardest. After which we had Chipotle for dinner. At least hose of us that eat did.


8:00 PM. Bar Mitzvah Hour. We know the time because Hillel sent out 500 Facebook messages prior to CUDM begging people to show up at 8. Through our awesome detective skillz we now know the time. CAUSE IT'S TIME TO HORRRAAAAAA. Tall Blonde Goy on a chair being lifted up by six Jews in Suits. Tall Blonde Goy is happy, but does not understand the chair. HORA!

9:00. Bar Mitzvah hour is over. Want to have a nappp. NAPPPP. We miss Tevia.

??. Break Dance. AWESOOOMME. However, 99% of the CUDM dancers are white, or at least dance like it. A few anomalies on the team: girl, white boy, Asian guys with moves. Girl is going bald from doing head spins. There's never a du-rag when you need one.

?? PUMP THE JAM PUMP IT UP WHY YOUR FEET ARE SLUMPING AND THIS JAM IS PUMPING LOOK NOW HERE'S THE PRIDE OF JUMPING PUMP IT UP A LITTLE MORE GET THIS PARTY GOING ON THE DANCE FLOOR SEE CAUSE THAT'S WHERE THE PARTY'S AT AND YOU'LL FIND OUT IT YOU DO THAT. I DUNNWANT A PLAYCE TO STAY GET YOUR BOOTAY ON THE FLOOR TONIGHHHHHT

Judah Friedlander HOUR!! OMG JUDDDAAHHH. Looked around and realized many people here have no fucking clue who God is. God wears a trucker hat and thick-ass glasses. Also, his name is Judah. 30 Rock? Zoolander? Come on, people.

Techno Hour. DHUMDHUMDHUMDHUMDHUMDHUMDHUMDHUMBADADA

DADADADADADADADADDHUMDHUMDHUMDHUMBOOOOOOOMDHUMDHUMDHUMDHUMWOMPWOMPWOMP. Seizure.

??. There are two boys wearing onesies. With ass-flaps. One of them is our Co-Head Subs Editor, Jeffrey Scharfstein. He's also wearing boxers from 8th grade, so when you pull the ass flap down he blushes and feels violated. Also, he's wearing a pretty headband with a bow on it.

????WHAT TIME IS IT. NIGHT. Its darkdarkdark. The lights are dark. The break dancers are still here.

??THE MOON IS IN THE SECOND HOUSE AND JUPITER'S ALIGNED WITH MARS... LET THE SUN SHINE! LET THE SHINE IN! THE SUN SHINE IN!

Steering Committee says they have good news for us...it's breakfast time! I eat a condom-bagel!

~8:00? They're now playing the songs that we requested. Womanizer, Disturbia (5 times), Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles Theme Song, CSS! We're screaming the lyrics to Music is My Hot Hot Sex and there's a guy in the corner who's mouthing the words at us and staring and stop it. Stop staring! Don't do it! Stop having a moment! We're not having a fucking moment you creep!

10:00? PAin pain pAIn pinpianpainpiano. Swelling ankles. The rain falls onto leaves. Spoken word. Snap. PAIN. Snap (That one was a bone breaking).

The Nazis are saying we can't sit down. TRY BEING ON YOUR FEET FOR... LIKE 22 HOURS AND THEN BEING POLITE YOU FUCKING JACKASS. YOU DON'T OWN US! YOU'LL NEVER GET MY PAPERS!

?? They own us. The count is down to 70. So many peopel left during the nght. It's like Survivor: NY. Except theres no homeless people. The break dancers are still here. The white boy has told 17 different girls that they're hot. Juuust like that. "You're hot." Will we ever see our families again? They keep making us do the line dance. It isn't a beautiful life. It's not..

Sex Ed Hour. DUUUDE there's a gay boy on our team. HE KNOWS ALL OF THE ANSWERS. EVEN ABOUT GIRL PARTS. I DIDN'T EVEN KNOW THAT SHIT ABOUT FETUSES AND FINGERNAILS.

No concept of time. Tick tock tick tock time moves by. So slowly. So slowl-time moves by-so slowly. I LOVE YOU MADONNA.

Lunch. Post-starvation period (breakfast was right after Aquarius, and it seems like 8 hours have passed). Out of water for the 6th time. Also out of toilet paper due to frequent "potty" (re: nap) trips.

?? Charleston group. They did it and are now attempting to teach the 50 people left. We look a little downsy. Arms flailing and such. Are now eating fudgsicles. It feels like we're at adult day care. We wanna watch the Teletubbies!

??????? IS IT OVER YET? WHY ARE THERE REALLY TALL GUYS HERE?

Apparently the boys basketball team has decided to join us in the 7th circle of Dante's hell. They get to learn the line dance. We get to teach them. Unfortunately, we lost five of the pin-thin Barnard girls under the giant sneakers of the gargantuan boys. But in all fairness, the boys could dance, and they were just too into it to notice the girls hiding between air molecules. And now... NOW ITS OVER. WE GET TO SIT. THEY SAY WE GET TO SIT AND LOOK AT THE TIME. IT'S 4 JUST LIKE THEY SAID IT WOULD BE!


WE'RE FREE!

Wait.

8 PM: Final announcements weren't really what they said they would be. They've taken our credit cards and any forms of identification that we may have. "It's For the Kids, guys! Just give us your money!" We're now tied up in the basement of Lerner. Anyone who reads this please just bring water and the police. (Fucking Nazis. Give us Bar Mitzvah hour and take away our freedom. They will never find our papers. At least without a full cavity search.)