A Tale of Two DMs: Sherman Ave's 2017 DM Diaries
Writers Diptheria Jones and Genghis Leprechaun both experienced suffering this past; one in the form of nonstop dancing, the other in the form of acute sugar intake and the ensuing reaction from their internal organs. Follow them on their journeys in this 30-hour slice of life.
Block 1 (7 - 10 PM)
D: I find no one in this tent attractive, DM vision better be real.
Random boy on my DM team: "I'll be the playhouse if you're Gigi"
Me: “This is a charity sicko” (nods yes)
G: I pass by dancers headed to the tent as I leave class. Suckers. I’m headed home to get ready for Sherman Ave’s #CancelDM Party (donate here!). I’m feeling kind of anxious, I don’t usually love crowds. I consume two liters of Coca-Cola, a whole King Size Kit Kat Bar, and three oven-baked Pillsbury cookies, half to calm my nerves for the party, half to celebrate the fact that I can do whatever I want.
Block 2 (10 PM - 1 AM)
D: Did a taste test of the protein shake they gave us.
General consensus was they tasted like a mix of the worst milkshake you've ever had and the best breast milk you've ever had.
There's a knot in my back.
(Ten minutes later)
Knot has been rubbed by some true friends but it still only hurts unless I'm dancing... good fucking thing I'm at dance marathon!! Haha life's a weird bitch!!
G: I hit the Sherman Ave party at the peak of my sugar rush and I’m immediately hit by a Smirnoff Ice. I chug the sucker no prob. We have our first ever mosh pit, and our editor-in-chief gets pushed to the ground and scrapes his elbow. It’s pretty funny to watch. In my sugar high, I yell at him and call him a coward bitch, and tell him to get up.
Block 3 (1 - 4 AM)
D: Just went to the bathroom and there was a poster on the stall door that said: "when you think about quitting remember why you started." That just really struck a chord in me because I couldn't remember why I started. I mean, like, the kids? So now I'm in a weird place. Also, I can no longer feel my knot. What has become of me!!
They should bring the cute kids back soon I need some humanity reinstalled into my cold, angry, dance-hating heart.
G: I head home to get some rest before a callback in the morning, but black out from my sugar high and get lost. The only picture on my phone from this time is a dog I don’t recognize in a living room I don’t recognize.
Block 4 (4 - 7 AM)
I want my mom.
G: Somehow, I get home safely. My sugar high crashes. I sleep like a log.
Block 5 (7 - 10 AM)
D: I think I just lost my virginity. Well, maybe not. But I've definitely lost something I can never get back.
Also, everyone here is hot. I'd be down to lose my virginity.
G: I wake up briefly and I vomit a lot. The sounds wake up my roommate who asks if I drank too much. I reply I had too much sugar, and he laughs in my face as I continue to puke. I cancel my callback and fall back asleep.
Block 6 (10 AM - 1 PM)
D: I hear lunch is after this block. Lunch is really really awesome you know. It's just so crucial. I love lunch. It's the best. I really just really appreciate lunch.
They brought puppies for people to play with. It was probably the best thing ever until I met one that didn't have one of its arms. I tried to give him a hand. As if you haven't fucked with us enough, DM.
G: Sleep. Wake up briefly, vomit a little bit into a trash can by my bed. I get it perfectly into the trashcan, nothing but net. Swish! Sleep more.
Block 7 (1 PM - 4 PM)
D: It's that time of day where everyone else is awake and you're reminded of a thing called "sleeping at night" that all the people not living in the alternate reality of DM are doing. It's ok though because now that your friends are awake they can bring you smoothies and you can walk around the tent with the swagger of "ya I have friends who care and support me, bitches."
Also. Fitz looks good.
G: I wake up and get lunch, then eat it sitting down. Take that, dancers.
I watch TV with my roommate and I ask if he regrets not doing DM. We both laugh a lot. The laughing is too much for my stomach and I start dry heaving.
Block 8 (4 PM - 7 PM)
D: Sandstormmmmmmm hahhahahah.
I want my fun Aunt Lucy.
G: I begin to do some homework but I decided that if the DM dancers got the weekend off, I for some reason deserve it too even though I’m not really doing anything difficult this weekend at all.
Block 9 (7 PM - 10 PM)
D: Theme of this block was “The Tent Where it Happens” and I was like “ya no shit” then they started playing Hamilton and I was like I just had to Wait For It and now I’m Satisfied because I know I didn’t miss My Shot at DM and but after a few songs I was like What Comes Next and then I was like geez can I just Take A Break and they were like no this is Non-Stop but I hid in the bathroom anyway and when I came back I shouted What’d I Miss and my friend just shook his head and said History Has its Eyes On You and I was like what can I say I’m a Helpless soul and then I said ok I won’t pee again for the rest of the time and they go ok hmmmm yeah I guess That Would Be Enough and then finally when the block ended they said, You’ll Be Back One Last Time and that’s the Story of Tonight!!!
G: Like the dancers, I listen to Hamilton for these three hours too. But unlike the dancers, I’m alone in my room...The Room Where It Happens. Where what happens? I eat, but I say to the food, “You’ll Be Back” because I know I won’t keep it down. Because that is the Story of Tonight: Me vomiting a lot while listening to Hamilton alone. Truly, the situation is...Helpless. What Comes Next? More vomiting. I know this. We Know that I will vomit again. I can’t Say No To This. One Last Time...
Block 10 (10 PM - 1 AM)
D: They say this is the block where everything is worth it but we've been dancing for a while and... oh.... that speaker was actually really moving... and ok that video from the actress who plays Becky in Glee made me cry... ok ya wait shit...
See you next year DM...
G: I vomit again even though I’ve barely eaten anything all day. It occurs to me how even though I refused to enter the tent, the suffering still followed me. Dangerous sugar high blackouts, violent moshing, terrible, terrible nausea… all this has been suffering. Truly, I suppose, there is no escape. None of our choices matter. To DM or not to DM? Who cares. There is no real difference between a dancer and a non-dancer. All is suffering.
I cry myself to sleep.