bekah brunstetter
Bekah Brunstetter I care deeply. About a lot of things. Like really, really deep. Ow
playwright in brooklyn, NY

Bekah’s Book Club

September 7th, 2019 by Bekah Brunstetter

At the urging of three separate friends, I started reading this INDEED VERY PAINFULLY BEAUTIFUL book, about the coming of age of a mysterious girl who lives in the Marsh on the North Carolina coast. It’s the kind of book that makes me all day Can’t Wait to go to bed, so I can read it. Not only is it just a great story, it checks two huge Bekah’s Book Club boxes for me, things that I always look for in literature that I might read again, recommend to friends:

1.) Incredibly detailed descriptions of how thin the main girl character is and how strong and skinny she is and how small and firm her breasts are and how ‘taut’ her skin is and how flat her stomach is and how puberty happened like an accident and now her hair is down to her butt and she could wear it like a dress around her taut skin, if she wanted

2.) EQUALLY DETAILED DESCRIPTIONS OF WHAT THE CHARACTER EATS FOR EVERY MEAL, LOTS OF REFERENCES TO CORN BREAD COOLING ON THE STOVE, FRIED CHICKEN, BLACKBERRY COBBLER WITH HARD CREAM; followed immediately by more descriptions of how taut said character still is

Posted in books, fiction, food, generally, ha, Uncategorized, women, YAY | No Comments »

Further and Further Away

August 14th, 2019 by Bekah Brunstetter

I don’t so much have Good dreams or Bad Dreams, I have Worry Dreams, with very simple plots that usually involve me trying to get somewhere important, pushing through sand and time to get there, but the destination keeps getting moved to somewhere far. I dream that I’m supposed to have another surgery but I’m tired of Waiting and I’m Hungry so I go to get a Sandwich but I get lost getting back and I can’t find my hospital bed because I swear I only went five minutes away, but it takes hours to get back to it. I’m realizing that all of these dreams are exactly how I feel about still trying to have a baby.  The end keeps getting moved, pushed farther. It’s always nine months away, plus Whatever Time.  I’ve been walking for hundreds of miles dragging my rolling suitcase full of stones but the Gate has changed, I swear it was There but then it’s Not. Meanwhile I can hear and see everyone, already there. They’re laughing with their toddlers, it’s a picnic, there’s face paint and wading pools and games and chicken nuggets, vats of Annie’s Mac n Cheese, they’re all waiting. Where’s Bekah? It’s so easy to get here. We’ve been here for years. Maybe she’s not coming. And I’m screaming at them, I’m coming, I’m trying, don’t leave, I’m almost there! But they can’t hear me, because as I’m screaming, they’ve moved to another planet, a million miles further away.

Posted in a lot, life, love, the future, the making of babies, what my friends are doing, whining, women, words, worrying | No Comments »

Say Goodbye to These, Michael

August 11th, 2019 by Bekah Brunstetter

Sometimes you make a cake for a friend because she’s managed to stay alive X amount of years, and it’s the yearly commemoration of her birth, and sometimes you make her a cake because she’s  getting a double Mastectomy to prevent the spread of her cancer, so that she can be MORE alive, and for longer. My LA little sister Mackenzie has been facing this whole thing head on with HUMOR AND GRACE, ie, she threw a White Girl Witch farewell party for her breasts, featuring an actual rack of lamb and performances by her close friends, staged readings of earnest scenes from the Bachelor, stand-up, song and dance — all formed around this Arrested Development favorite:

Now that she’s safely on the other side of her surgery, I have to share the Lemon Cream Cheese cake that I put all of my love and worry  into. I offered a boob cake, Mack requested that the cake ‘maybe not look like an actual boob, but maybe have…boob WRITING on it?’ PLEASE NOTE THE LITTLE EYEBALL CANDIES THAT ARE MEANT TO TASTEFULLY LOOK LIKE BOOBS.

But mostly I have to share how proud of and in awe I am of this woman. Her ability to laugh at everything and anything. The fact that in the days leading up to her surgery, she was working on pitching her next show and got two job offers. Here’s to so many more years with her, more themed tragedy parties, more inflatable props.

 

Posted in a lot, CAKES, family, food, i am lucky, life, love, the future, what my friends are doing, women, YAY | No Comments »

BOOK A CLOWN

August 1st, 2019 by Bekah Brunstetter

I’m back in town, prepping and getting my head in the game for some upcoming IVF hullabaloo, which means blood draws and needle parties and Google panics and that I just bought 47 pounds of Kale but all I can think about is Wine. MOST IMPORTANTLY, while researching things One can Do to Pretend to be in Control of One’s life While undergoing IVF, I stumbled across this gem nugget of advice:

SO HEADS UP MORRISON WILL BE SPENDING THE NEXT TWO MONTHS PREPPING HIS TIGHT FIVE AS AN IVF CLOWN / JOKE PITCHES WELCOME.

 

Posted in generally, ha, life, love, MAWWAGE., the making of babies, whining, women, YAY | No Comments »

Suffering Noisily

July 10th, 2019 by Bekah Brunstetter

Yesterday, I had another surgery that’s hopefully getting us one step closer to having a tiny person running around our house demanding to know where Poop comes from. It was the longest I’d ever been under anesthesia, and surely the gnarliest procedure I’ve had, and there was pain, AND I NEEDED EVERYONE AROUND ME TO KNOW IT. I’m not a person who suffers pain silently.  If I’m in pain, I feel like, what’s the point of the my pain if everyone within a 5 mile radius or at the very least my 2,000 instagram followers doesn’t know that it’s happening? It’s definitely weakness of character, or what Morrison calls ‘fortitude,’ ie, if my life were a game of Dungeons and Dragons I would be dead from a skinned knee before my adventure boat even left the castle (?). It’s also a little bit of narcissism, but like, a regular human amount. But maybe also it’s wanting to Share. Whenever I’m feeling anything intense, I don’t go In, I go Out. I don’t want just sympathy, I want Connection. All of this to say, when I reach the end of this road paved with white hospital bracelets, and a baby is exiting my body, please know that I will be Sharing my pain with anyone who can hear me. THE ENTIRE WORLD WILL KNOW.

Posted in babies, the future, the making of babies, what I'm wearing, whining, women, worrying, YAY | No Comments »

What I need to Hear

July 8th, 2019 by Bekah Brunstetter

Yesterday, a Sunday morning:

  • I wake up, feeling a need to go to church and be quiet and reflective and pray
  • I Go to church
  • Okay, yes, I get there a few minutes late, but I take my program humbly, receptively, sneak in through the back door
  • I WALK RIGHT IN MID-DEDICATION OF BABIES
  • (For the non-church going readers: this is when new parents bring their babies on stage and dedicate themselves, as parents, to raising their Baby in the church, and the pastor blesses the baby, and the baby pretends to answers questions and all of the childless mothers of Gilead in the sanctuary turn to brownie batter and melt out of their seats and die)
  • I consider TURNING THE OTHER WAY AND RUNNING OUT OF THE CHURCH, and being quite noisy about it on purpose, maybe slamming through some doors, so that everyone knows my pain, and then sits there, putting two and two together
  • I decide, instead, to quietly, respectfully take a seat towards the back and cry quietly, respectfully while the babies are dedicated
  • I Listen to the Pastor as he tells the congregation that this couple in particular prayed and prayed for their daughter Rose; that she was a gift, not an assumption
  • I realize how badly I needed to hear this
  • I sit there, quietly, hearing everything else I needed to hear

Posted in a lot, faith, ha, hmmmmm, the future, the making of babies, the whole world, the worst, whining, women | No Comments »

I talk, he listens, I don’t

June 30th, 2019 by Bekah Brunstetter

I think I don’t even listen to myself when I talk. I’m just sort of whirring around the house, doing 900 things, thinking some things, saying some of them out loud, and Morrison takes the most ridiculous and most important things and writes them down in the notes section of his phone, WHICH IS WHY I got this amazing flowing robe shirt thing for my birthday:

because at some point in the last year while stomping through the house declaring and straightening things, I said I NEED A FLOWING ROBE SHIRT  probably followed by DID WE CALL THE PERSON ABOUT THE THING and DID YOU READ ABOUT THE OTHER THING and HAVE WE DECIDED WHEN WE WERE DOING THAT? Please note his note-taking diligence is ALSO why we forever know that one point I actually said to him, ‘Let’s not mince hairs.’

Posted in a lot, i am lucky, MAWWAGE., what I'm wearing, women, words, working, worrying | No Comments »

Quick Check-in with World

June 28th, 2019 by Bekah Brunstetter

When I’m developing a play or musical, I tend to stick my head up its butt and ignore the tense and divisive and sometimes horrible things happening in the world, which is both blessing and curse. There’s a part of me that wants to not get bogged down by these things so I can work — and then there’s another part of that knows that these things matter, that they can’t be ignored, that they must inform whatever I’m working on. I must disconnect from the world in order to work, but not so much that I don’t understand it anymore. I’ll just keep hovering here between those two extreme feelings, but in the meantime, a quick check in with World:

  • Harris and Warren debated real Good, I’m stoked on them, NOT JUST BECAUSE THEY TOOK A PRE-GAME SELFIE.
  • All people, ESPECIALLY CHILDREN, deserve dignity, empathy, and care, REGARDLESS OF THE ACTIONS OF THEIR PARENTS.
  • I KNOW THE SYSTEM ISN’T DESIGNED TO HANDLE SO MANY CHILDREN BUT SERIOUSLY. PRIORITIZE IT. FIGURE IT OUT.
  • KAMIE AND LIZ CAN YOU FIGURE IT OUT PLZ

 

Posted in a lot, politics, the writing of drama plays, women, worrying | No Comments »

Father’s Day, or WOMEN FOREVER

June 16th, 2019 by Bekah Brunstetter

| artist cred Farjana Sultana. |

Unrelated to Father’s Day (HAPPY FATHER’S DAY DAD! LOVE YOU! etc etc etc) I just saw a really stunning woman, I’d say in her early 70s, really alive and kind, the kind of person who’s voice you can always hear from across the room, and she was straight up unapologetically rocking her double mastectomy. She seemed so happy to be alive, and it was like breasts were friends she used to have in grad school, that she got rid of years ago because they were toxic, and sometimes she thinks about them but really, who needs them, because there’s so much now, in her life, and it made me wonder — if men had to cut their penises  off in order to live, would, I mean really, WOULD THEY? ASKING FOR SOCIETY

Posted in a lot, generally, women, YAY | No Comments »

LORD HELP ME

June 10th, 2019 by Bekah Brunstetter

IN AN ATTEMPT TO SOOTHE MY BRAINWHIR, I’VE BECOME A PERSON WHO WRITES PRAYERS AND AFFIRMATIONS (WHICH I’M COMING TO REALIZE ARE THE SAME THING) ON NOTECARDS AND PLACES THEM WHERE I CAN MOST FREQUENTLY SEE THEM

IS THIS A SIGN OF THE END (OR PERHAPS THE BEGINNING)

Posted in a lot, i am lucky, i am scared, i have peace, oh nooo, the future, the making of babies, trying too hard, whining, women, worrying, YAY | No Comments »

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