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

EXCLUSIVE PICS

September 19th, 2018 by Bekah Brunstetter

FINALLY: THE EXCLUSIVE EMMYS PICTURES YOU’VE BEEN WAITING FOR:

1/543 of my attempt to get a nice picture of Morrison and I on the red carpet, for some reason featuring someone else’s phone:

My balanced, post-Emmys dinner, featuring a fresh cut on my hand from when I face planted while jogging the morning of the Emmys, while thinking about everything I had to do before getting ready for the Emmy’s, and all of life after it, and is there an apostrophe in Emmys or not FACEPLANT:

And my hair in a dark kitchen, eleven hours later:

PLZ FEEL FREE TO SELL TO TMZ BUT IF YOU DO, PLZ GIVE AT LEAST 60% OF PROFIT TO NC FLOOD VICTIMS, THNKS

Posted in a lot, generally, ha, i am lucky, I write for television?, life, YAY | No Comments »

where to Look when your brother Weds

August 5th, 2018 by Bekah Brunstetter

My Tiny baby brother Tim got married on Friday, to a  gorgeous, grounded and kind cardiac nurse — and by kind nurse, I mean she left her rehearsal dinner to escort a family member who was having a heart event* to the ER (*what playwrights call bad heart things.)  I don’t know what I was expecting, watching my youngest brother, who I shared a room with for years, who I think the largest world of, who I think has the the tenderest of hearts and sharpest of wits though he never presents with either — marry the girl he loves — but basically every time I caught him looking at her with any sort of love, the kind of of love that shuts out the world and the wedding and all expectations and even the past, I sobbed through my eyelash glue for 17 seconds.

I didn’t have to do a toast, but obviously, Dan and Pete toasted Tim. The toasts were beautiful, laced with emotional restraint and military humor and humble admissions of what it feels like to look up to your younger brother, and obviously, I sat as close to all of them as humanly possible while these toasts were happening, like I’m basically sitting on Sarah’s lap. Another obviously: I took a million pictures because it’s rare to see my three brothers together, feeling something. Traveling back to LA last night, I looked at each of these pictures, trying to find the best one(s) so that I might delete some… but really, each one I took is essential. While they all look basically the same, each captures a tiny feeling felt by a brother, warm stabs otherwise covered.

PETE LOOKS AT FLOOR SO AS TO NOT MAKE EYE CONTACT:

TIM DRINKS BEER SO AS TO NOT FEEL

DAN LOOKS AT CELING SO AS TO NOT SOB

DAN DOES STAND UP WORTHY OF LATE NIGHT TELEVISION, TIM’S LUNGS LEAK TEARS

DAN’S TOAST GETS PHYSICAL, TIM THINKS ABOUT BEATING HIM UP LATER, PETE FOCUSES ON CHANDELIER SO AS TO NOT HUG TIM

Posted in a lot, boys, brothers, family, i am lucky, life, love, MAWWAGE. | No Comments »

CORRECTION

July 8th, 2018 by Bekah Brunstetter

Every theater company doing The Cake, in all of their marketing materials: WE ARE SO PROUD TO PRESENT THIS PLAY, WRITTEN BY THE HEAD WRITER AND CREATOR AND SOLE BRAIN BEHIND THIS IS US!

Me, frantically: IT’S NOT ME I’M JUST ONE OF THE WRITER’S I DID NOT CREATE PLZ ADJUST IMMEDIATELY

Theater Company:……?

Me: IT’S JUST THAT SERIOUSLY, I AM REALLY IN NO WAY IN CHARGE AND IF MY BOSSES SAW THIS I WOULD DIE

Theater Company: But can we tell everyone that you are?

Me: PLEASE DON’T

Theater Company: But what if we just let people BELIEVE that you are, so as to sell tickets?

Me: I FEEL ASHAMED

Posted in a lot, i am lucky, I write for television?, I'M SO EXCITED, lies, life, trying too hard, working, worrying, YAY | No Comments »

that time my Dad was right

June 22nd, 2018 by Bekah Brunstetter

Next week, I will have been being bloggy on this here blog basically every day for eleven years. For me it’s not JUST telling you what pants I’m wearing or what catastrophe I’m currently wringing my hands over, it’s also discipline. It’s an exercise in making a promise to oneself, and keeping it. It’s also an excuse to pause each day, form a thought. It’s a collection of memories, it’s how I know what I was doing on Thanksgiving five years ago, it’s how my old self gives my present self advice, it’s, okay IT’S MY FAVORITE THING IN THE WORLD, because it’s nothing and everything, because it’s whatever it wants to be, because it’s Mine. But. Lately, my brain has been stretched so thin with various projects that I find myself approaching this space like the box checker that I am — blogging frantically, like QUICK DO A GOOGLE IMAGE SEARCH OF THE FIRST WORD THAT COMES TO YOUR HEAD AND PUT IT UP WITH PERHAPS HALF A SENTENCE, and for what? For who? And so, as my Dad gently suggested a few weeks ago (THANKS DAD, DON’T CHOKE ON YOUR I TOLD YOU SO!)  I’m going to simply remove the pressure to be here every single day, and instead, just when I really have something to say, perhaps more like 3-4 times a week. I mean, it’s like they always say. You’re never too old to listen to your Dad, and you’re never too young to have human feelings for the internet. Okay? OKAY, SEE YOU BACK HERE TOMORROW WHEN I AM PHYSICALLY INCAPABLE OF NOT BLOGGING, BYE!

 

Posted in a lot, how interesting, i am a grown up, i am scared, life, YAY | No Comments »

SOOTHING INDOOR PLANTS

June 7th, 2018 by Bekah Brunstetter

  • purchases indoor plants to create a relaxing, soothing home environment
  • attempts to keep plants alive
  • PLANTS SHRVEL AND DIE
  • FILLS WITH THE RAGE AND ANXIETY THAT COME HOLDING HANDS WITH FAILURE AND WASTE OF MONEY
  • Goes outside, stands among plants in their natural place; feels better, sort of

Posted in life, silly, things that I Have, whining | No Comments »

62 years young

March 22nd, 2018 by Bekah Brunstetter

The happiest of birfdays to my Mama, who just a few weekends ago, in a 48 hour visit, played yard games, SKIPPED ROPE and did an Irish Car Bomb all while remaining classy, virtuous, kind as pack a monks, aspirational and GOSHDARN ADERABLE. Love you ma!

Posted in family, i am lucky, life, love, YAY | No Comments »

BYE SEASON 2

March 17th, 2018 by Bekah Brunstetter

We officially ended the This is Us Season 2 (and some season 3) writer’s room last night with an adorable group outing to see my dear froworkers turned SHOW RUNNERS Isaac and Elizabeth’s movie, Love, Simon:  the first major studio teen love story movie to feature a gay protagonist (OUT THIS WEEKEND / GO SEE / IT WILL MAKE YOU GLAD TO BE A HUMAN.) Work can be hard and makes my brain hurt, but dangit, I do love each and every one of these people. SEE Y’ALL IN TWO MONTHS WHICH WILL FEEL LIKE TEN MINUTES!

SaveSave

SaveSave

Posted in a lot, i am lucky, I write for television?, I write for television?, I'M SO EXCITED, LA angst, life, what my friends are doing, working, YAY | No Comments »

I grew up and also I’m a Toys R Us kid

March 15th, 2018 by Bekah Brunstetter

Yesterday, Toys R Us  announced it will close all of its stores and no longer Be. Last night,  anyone who grew up in the 70s/80s/90s slept curled around memory shadows of Kid Sister dolls  and Ninja Turtle hot wheels and that Thing that you put around one of your Ankles and then Swing it around and Jump over it. All we can do now is Remember, and work out how to explain what it Was to our future kids. Something like:

US: Toys R Us was a big toy store / that

FUTURE KID: What’s store?

US: A big place that sells things —

FUTURE KID: Like internet?

US: No, it’s a big physical, actual place that you go to buy things.

FUTURE KID: Like Amazon?

US: Yes, but you walk into it. With your body.

FUTURE KID: By why not just order it online?

US: Because that was part of it, the going and the looking and the choosing.

FUTURE KID: Hmmm.

US: You’re blinking a lot, what is it, is there something in your eye?

FUTURE KID: Nope!  I Just bought myself a new video game.

US: WITH YOUR EYE?!

(A package THUMPS on the front step.)

FUTURE KID:  OFF TO  SAVE VIRTUAL WORLD, BYE!

 

Posted in life, oh nooo, the future, the whole world, things, vintage, wanting | No Comments »

Martha

March 12th, 2018 by Bekah Brunstetter

Today, on Using Other’s People’s Writing to Stand in for my Own, or, Live Every Day like you’re in a really good Sophomore English Class: I’m finally reading  The Things They Carried, Tim O’Brien’s memoir about the Vietnam War. I just can’t (read: I can) with his incredible descriptions of one Lieutenant’s thoughts of a girl he left back home, who doesn’t really love him, who he loves: Martha.

And then suddenly, without willing it, he was thinking about Martha. The stresses and fractures, the quick collapse, the two of them buried alive under all that weight. Dense, crushing love. Kneeling, watching the hole, he tried to concentrate on Lee Strunk and the war, all the dangers, but his love was too much for him, he felt paralyzed, he wanted to sleep inside her lungs and breathe her blood and be smothered. He wanted her to be a virgin and not a virgin, all at once. He wanted to know her. Intimate secrets: Why poetry? Why so sad? Why that grayness in her eyes? Why so alone? Not lonely, just alone—riding her bike across campus or sitting off by herself in the cafeteria—even dancing, she danced alone—and it was the aloneness that filled him with love. He remembered telling her that one evening. How she nodded and looked away. And how, later, when he kissed her, she received the kiss without returning it, her eyes wide open, not afraid, not a virgin’s eyes, just flat and uninvolved. Lieutenant Cross gazed at the tunnel. But he was not there. He was buried with Martha under the white sand at the Jersey shore. They were pressed together, and the pebble in his mouth was her tongue. He was smiling. Vaguely, he was aware of how quiet the day was, the sullen paddies, yet he could not bring himself to worry about matters of security. He was beyond that. He was just a kid at war, in love. He was twenty-four years old. He couldn’t help it.

I think every girl, or at least high school or college age girl, or at least definitely me at that age, longs to be Martha:  so loved while giving nothing in return, so deeply lonely and silent and still and yet so beautiful that brave strong boys want to live inside of her lungs.

Posted in books, hmmmmm, how interesting, life, women | No Comments »

and then a hero comes alongggggggg

February 27th, 2018 by Bekah Brunstetter

Today, on Heroes in pearls, Mona Charen:

 I can’t say that I knew anything about this woman before she made news for speaking out against Trump at the CPAC, and also, I can’t say that I knew what the CPAC stood for. (The Conservative Political Action Conference. Now you know, too! ACRONYMS!) I can’t speak to her life in politics or her beliefs before this moment, tho I do now want to read her books. All I can say is that this woman, sitting amongst a handful of other conservative women, on a panel about the me too movement, dared to speak her truth.

I’d been dreading it for days, but when it came, I almost welcomed it. There is nothing more freeing than telling the truth. And it must be done, again and again, by those of us who refuse to be absorbed into this brainless, sinister, clownish thing called Trumpism, by those of us who refuse to overlook the fools, frauds and fascists attempting to glide along in his slipstream into respectability. I spoke to a hostile audience for the sake of every person who has watched this spectacle of mendacity in disbelief and misery for the past two years. Just hearing the words you know are true can serve as ballast, steadying your mind when so much seems unreal.

She had the courage and confidence to separate her conservative values from what Trump has decided are conservative values, and she sees a need for honesty and clarity as opposed to vitriol. She doesn’t just fault liberal values, she calls hypocrisy when she sees it, and she longs for a middle ground. More of this mindset, please. I CALL DIBS ON HER BIO PIC, WHICH MIGHT BE TWO HOURS OF HER CHEWING ON A PEN AND TYPING ON HER LAPTOP, BUT STILL: DIBS.

Posted in a lot, factual smarts, famous people stuff, hmmmmm, how interesting, i am a grown up, life, politics, trying too hard, women, words | No Comments »

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