if i know your disguise, well, it used to be mine
Last night was full of fangirls - first I met up with mousapelli and midnitemaraud_r for dinner and then when that was done, I joined up with a bunch of SPN fangirls over at Veselka. It was a fun night! And it kept my mind off both the Rangers (though I was receiving text updates all evening) and remix. Ugh. My stomach is not happy with me right now.
136 stories are in! I am confident everything will work out! It always does. After the deadline passes tonight, we'll default the people who didn't turn in a story and tomorrow morning there will be a bunch of pinch hits going out, I'm sure, so keep your eyes peeled.
Also, I just posted to remixers_lounge about this, but please make sure that if you have already uploaded your story, that you have also clicked the box that says "Remix Redux 10 assignment [your remixee's name here]" in the "Does this fulfill a challenge assignment box" because otherwise, even if you fill in the collection and the remixee's name under recipient, it doesn't appear as a completed assignment on our assignment management page, so there is the danger that you could get defaulted after the deadline, even if you've already posted. So please check and make sure you've clicked that box.
If you have questions, please contact the mods at remixredux@gmail.com. (Please don't PM the mods. or comment on this post! We like to keep all the questions and answers in one place if possible.)
I thought tonight's episode of The Good Wife was good, but I probably need to rewatch, since I was preoccupied with remixy stuff.
Anyway, here is today's poem:
I Am Not the Hand
by Aimee Nezhukumatathil
A brunch of Bellinis and crab omelettes is how I love
to wake up in NYC. A peachy buzz in the morning
always stamps out what you don't want to remember.
Dogs in this town always seem a little wigged-out:
all this concrete and barely anywhere to really go.
Their eyes bulge at this travesty. This sharp crunch
of salad smells like water, like rain. A dog can smell
scent particles for up to a year. If I were to show up now,
the dog I once owned with my ex-boyfriend might lick
my hand Hello. But all real trace of me is washed
from that dog's sweet coconut-head. I am not the hand
that first lifted his star-shaped paw for Shake. I am not
the hand pointing my index finger into a gun: Bang-bang
you're dead. And why did I ever teach him that? I couldn't
even imagine him ever taken from us, even begged M
to have the dog stuffed so it could always sit near
my fireplace. M's father buried his beloved farm dog
wrapped in a bag of his very favorite kibble. It seemed
to smile. The bag, I mean. I'm starting to forget. Little things,
like jacks lost down a drain. What tea you like. Your favorite
boots. What was that farm dog's name? I know he had
a purple tongue. When I try to remember these things,
I can feel my tongue hang a little from the corner
of my mouth. Of course: Bang-bang, I'm dead too.
***
This entry at DW: http://musesfool.dreamwidth.org/454986.html.
people have commented there.
136 stories are in! I am confident everything will work out! It always does. After the deadline passes tonight, we'll default the people who didn't turn in a story and tomorrow morning there will be a bunch of pinch hits going out, I'm sure, so keep your eyes peeled.
Also, I just posted to remixers_lounge about this, but please make sure that if you have already uploaded your story, that you have also clicked the box that says "Remix Redux 10 assignment [your remixee's name here]" in the "Does this fulfill a challenge assignment box" because otherwise, even if you fill in the collection and the remixee's name under recipient, it doesn't appear as a completed assignment on our assignment management page, so there is the danger that you could get defaulted after the deadline, even if you've already posted. So please check and make sure you've clicked that box.
If you have questions, please contact the mods at remixredux@gmail.com. (Please don't PM the mods. or comment on this post! We like to keep all the questions and answers in one place if possible.)
I thought tonight's episode of The Good Wife was good, but I probably need to rewatch, since I was preoccupied with remixy stuff.
Anyway, here is today's poem:
I Am Not the Hand
by Aimee Nezhukumatathil
A brunch of Bellinis and crab omelettes is how I love
to wake up in NYC. A peachy buzz in the morning
always stamps out what you don't want to remember.
Dogs in this town always seem a little wigged-out:
all this concrete and barely anywhere to really go.
Their eyes bulge at this travesty. This sharp crunch
of salad smells like water, like rain. A dog can smell
scent particles for up to a year. If I were to show up now,
the dog I once owned with my ex-boyfriend might lick
my hand Hello. But all real trace of me is washed
from that dog's sweet coconut-head. I am not the hand
that first lifted his star-shaped paw for Shake. I am not
the hand pointing my index finger into a gun: Bang-bang
you're dead. And why did I ever teach him that? I couldn't
even imagine him ever taken from us, even begged M
to have the dog stuffed so it could always sit near
my fireplace. M's father buried his beloved farm dog
wrapped in a bag of his very favorite kibble. It seemed
to smile. The bag, I mean. I'm starting to forget. Little things,
like jacks lost down a drain. What tea you like. Your favorite
boots. What was that farm dog's name? I know he had
a purple tongue. When I try to remember these things,
I can feel my tongue hang a little from the corner
of my mouth. Of course: Bang-bang, I'm dead too.
***
This entry at DW: http://musesfool.dreamwidth.org/454986.html.
people have commented there.