Little 500: A recap

As I reflect on the past 96 hours in Bloomington, in the silence never so divine as the morning after Little 500, I realize that even after four seasons of witnessing Little 5 debauchery, I am still equally perplexed at my contemporaries as I was as a timid freshman. Due to my inability to relate to Little 5-types, my weekend became a foray into major people watching. I came to no grand conclusions about humanity whatsoever, but I was damn impressed. \nFriday morning I stumbled into my living room at 9:30 a.m., getting ready for work and slowly became cognizant of a low bumping that can only belong to the Pussycat Dolls, and my neighbors already playing cornhole. Cornhole and Natty Ice at 9:30 in the morning? That’s dedication. If I have the choice between sleeping and consciousness at that hour, sleep always wins. I might be a quitter, but my neighbors were in it for the long haul. Sometime between when I left for work at 10:30 a.m. and returned again in the afternoon, vomit appeared on my front stoop. I was fairly impressed.\nI was also impressed at the Friday night bar-crawling females teetering in 4-inch heels and obscenely short skirts while three-quarters wasted. Watching them navigate the crowds of people, balanced precariously on quarter-inch wide points of contact while considerably inebriated and still managing to not flash their naughty bits to the world, I felt somehow inadequate in my sensible flats and jeans. Perhaps it’s my inability to multitask, but I think I just don’t try hard enough.\nThat night lying in bed, unable to fall asleep courtesy of the varied forms of god-awful music emanating from all the cardinal directions, I could hear the hum of a city of drunkenness. What were they hollering about? I can assure you, no one remembered the next day. But holler they did, and with great resolve.\nThe morning of the race, having half-expected my neighbors to be far too hungover to make noise until late afternoon, I was jolted out of dream at 10 a.m. by my nemesis, Ja Rule. Gazing out my back door, I saw three men within 10 minutes whizz 10 feet away on the house next door. That’s more piss than anyone needs to see before breakfast. I would have been disgusted if I wasn’t in sheer awe of their fortitude. Had I even attempted their levels of dedication, I would have died of alcohol poisoning or exhaustion days ago.\nSome people train for marathons; IU students train for Little 5. The hell our bodies were put through last week is akin to some unnaturally long-distanced foot race: painful and completely unnecessary – but done for pleasure and by choice. Seeing as I seem to lack the dedication and moral fiber to stick it out, I’m quite proud of you all. And congratulations to Cutters and Kappa Delta, because while everyone else was wasted, they happened to win that little bike race this whole weekend was about. Well done, ladies and gents.