September 1st, 2014 by Bekah Brunstetter
It’s back to school time for Switched at Birth! We have exactly a school-like schedule, with a Fall start and then Summer vacation, and tomorrow is the first day back, and I WANT A TRAPPER KEEPER SO BADLY I CAN FEEL IT IN MY EARS.
Remember that feeling? Clean college ruled paper, happy colored pens. Sweet Order, primary colors, optimism. More specifically, I want a Lisa Frank Trapper Keeper.
I should be prepping myself for Back to School, researching, packing my lunch, making a list of things I’ll do better this year, or at all (more sleep / more reading / better handwriting) but instead, here is a picture of the actual Lisa Frank who makes me want to be a better student and also is maybe really good at mind control:
But really: I’m ready to get back to work, and have mild aspirations to do it all again but better. More and better thoughts, more and better stories. Gotta go select a scrunchie that matches my shirt that matches my shorts. SEE YOU IN FIRST PERIOD!
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August 31st, 2014 by Bekah Brunstetter
A poem from E’s wedding that’s stuck with me:
When she says margarita she means daiquiri.
When she says quixotic she means mercurial.
And when she says, “I’ll never speak to you again,"
she means, “Put your arms around me from behind
as I stand disconsolate at the window.”
He’s supposed to know that.
When a man loves a woman he is in New York and she is in
or he is in Boston, writing, and she is in New York, reading,
or she is wearing a sweater and sunglasses in Balboa Park and he
is raking leaves in Ithaca
or he is driving to East Hampton and she is standing disconsolate
at the window overlooking the bay
where a regatta of many-colored sails is going on
while he is stuck in traffic on the Long Island Expressway.
When a woman loves a man it is one ten in the morning
she is asleep he is watching the ball scores and eating pretzels
and two hours later he wakes up and staggers into bed
where she remains asleep and very warm.
When she says tomorrow she means in three or four weeks.
When she says, “We’re talking about me now,"
he stops talking. Her best friend comes over and says,
“Did somebody die?”
When a woman loves a man, they have gone
to swim naked in the stream
on a glorious July day
with the sound of the waterfall like a chuckle
of water rushing over smooth rocks,
and there is nothing alien in the universe.
Ripe apples fall about them.
What else can they do but eat?
When he says, “Ours is a transitional era,"
“that’s very original of you," she replies,
dry as the martini he is sipping.
They fight all the time
What do I owe you?
Let’s start with an apology
Ok, I’m sorry, you dickhead.
A sign is held up saying “Laughter.”
It’s a silent picture.
One year they broke up seven times and threatened to do it
another nine times.
When a woman loves a man, she wants him to meet her at the
airport in a foreign country with a jeep.
When a man loves a woman he’s there. He doesn’t complain that
she’s two hours late
and there’s nothing in the refrigerator.
When a woman loves a man, she wants to stay awake.
She’s like a child crying
at nightfall because she didn’t want the day to end.
When a man loves a woman, he watches her sleep, thinking:
as midnight to the moon is sleep to the beloved.
A thousand fireflies wink at him.
The frogs sound like the string section
of the orchestra warming up.
The stars dangle down like earrings the shape of grapes.
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August 31st, 2014 by Bekah Brunstetter
I’m returning home after 3.5 weeks of travel and I’m having person-ish feelings about my House. Consider it officially anthropomorphized. I’ve missed it. I’ve thought of it. I can’t wait to see it / say hi to it / be with it / play records in it / watch HBOGO inside of it / bake bread in it / sleep in it / have my life all up in it / put my things way in it / not live out of a series of bags that make everything smell of dead granola bars. HOME: I’M COMING!
* Not an actual picture of my actual home since maybe there are crazy people reading this who might say hey look! That’s her home! Let’s go stand outside of her home or perhaps break into her home! Though if there actually is that person, good luck to you, and want to come in for tea and see my house? Because it’s the best. Just like, don’t murder me and wear me around like a coat.
Posted in i am lucky, where i want to live | No Comments »
August 30th, 2014 by Bekah Brunstetter
ERIN IS WED! More evidence to come. Pardon me while I go dance to Journey and eat half a lemon pound cake.
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August 29th, 2014 by Bekah Brunstetter
there were never such devoted sisterssssss
MY SISTERS ARE IN TOWN FOR ERIN’S WEDDING! We barely ever get to be all in the same place anymore! It’s happening right now! It’s currently happening and on my parents’ couch! It’s so exciting that I have to IGNORE THEM AND BLOG ABOUT IT!
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August 28th, 2014 by Bekah Brunstetter
The security guard at my big bro’s office found out I write for Switched at Birth, and immediately wanted an autograph for her daughter Cassidy, who is a huge fan. I am certainly no Emma Stone (Miley? Beiber? Martha Stewart? who is big with the kids now?) and I also don’t have much of an autograph, it’s more like, intense struggling to craft legible block letters that look like SHOUTING! but I instantly obliged because if it weren’t for Cassidy and her Mom’s loyalty to SAB, we maybe wouldn’t still be around, and I wouldn’t have such a friendly and stable work environment and I certainly wouldn’t have the dough to go jaunting off to Iceland and completely neglect my real life responsibilities for short periods of time. We have a small but fiercely loyal bunch of viewers and I thank them all. I THANK YOU ALL!
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August 27th, 2014 by Bekah Brunstetter
Erin’s is deeply craftastic and so is her wedding. She and her mother have spent the last few months making HUNDREDS OF BEAUTIFUL PAPER FLOWERS for the centerpieces for the tables:
I mean. I don’t even understand real flowers anymore. Real flowers: POR QUOI? Eau de fleur: MEH!
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August 26th, 2014 by Bekah Brunstetter
I can think of no better reason than Erin Mccarson’s pink country vineyard wedding to get my first manicure in like 10 years, in which I kept apologizing to the manicurist that my nails were so tiny, and she kept telling me ‘your nails are like baby!’ and scolding me for biting them and I kept sheepishly laughing and telling her that I would, promising that I would, but manicurist, I tell you now, it’s all lies (BITE.)
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August 25th, 2014 by Bekah Brunstetter
Or: she can never get her picture taken AND keep her eyes open, so instead, she resorts to pics with cool shades. Jodie Ray Charles Brunstetter is sporting this sweet lab scarf I scored for her in Scotland because we just need more ways to memorialize our dead dog.
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August 25th, 2014 by Bekah Brunstetter
For months, both of my parents have been randomly asking me, Boo, did you get the napkins? Do you have the napkins? Did we send you the napkins? And I kept being like: WHAT ARE THESE NAPKINS? All I knew was that my Dad’s co-Senator, the lovely Kathy Harrington, whom he greatly admires, who is a loyal reader of my blog, had gotten me some napkins? Napkins. Today, I received the napkins:
Kathy found them at a yard sale and thought of me. KATHY, YOU KNOW ME BETTER THAN I KNOW MYSELF. The box contains some 50 MINT CONDITION delicate and strange and adorable vintage cocktail napkins with charming and weird little puns:
I can’t wait to entertain with them, oh wait no, never use them at all, but instead proudly display them, and most likely be buried with them. THANKS KATHY!
Posted in i am lucky, things, things that I Have | No Comments »