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

balls

September 24th, 2007 by Bekah Brunstetter

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Fanpersons, I like to talk to my mother on the phone. She loves me more than anyone and everything, and she does not stand for my ‘shit,’ or my potty mouth.

Me:  ‘ Yeah, I know, I just don’t have the BALLS to like -‘

Silence. Pause while she cringes and judges.

Mommy: ‘Bekah. You don’t have balls.’

Um.

Me: ‘Mom, I know, it’s just a figure of speech, and I think that by this point in time, the phrase has become so removed from the ACTUAL thing that is a ball(sac) that the image doesn’t even come to mind when I use the phrase. The image of – yay.’

Mom: ‘We live in different worlds.’

Posted in whining | No Comments »

fat kids

September 23rd, 2007 by Bekah Brunstetter

meet my new play

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Are you enticed? I sure am.

Posted in the writing of drama plays | No Comments »

Marcel Marceau il mort

September 23rd, 2007 by Bekah Brunstetter

Meet the world’s great mime, Marcel Marceau. Today, at age 84, he is the dead.

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In his honor, today, let us all live in invisible boxes.

Posted in factual smarts, famous people stuff | No Comments »

what the HELL

September 23rd, 2007 by Bekah Brunstetter

Posted in whining | No Comments »

heels

September 21st, 2007 by Bekah Brunstetter

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It is funny how many more strange people with strange agendas are caused to stare at you.

Posted in what I'm wearing | No Comments »

Two more Reviews!

September 20th, 2007 by Bekah Brunstetter

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Time Out NY

eeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee

Posted in the writing of drama plays | No Comments »

they were better than silence

September 19th, 2007 by Bekah Brunstetter

Last night, I attended a show with old college buddy, Kirby, whose mind I longed to pick about music PR. Little picking happened as loud sounds swelled, awkward ‘bobbing’ occured, and warm beer was consumed. Bekah went to a ‘show’ like a show-goer, like something from 10th grade. It took me back to dark band high school places where Tommie Madel once shoved me against a wall for breaking his ‘heart.’ I think.

The show was at this place called Glasslands by the Williamsburg Bridge, one of those ‘anything goes’ type band/artist venue things where the bathrooms don’t lock, and painting on the walls is encouraged.

This show including the likes of Autopassion, a Winston-Salem, NC Based band, which is 3/5’s compiled of boys I went to high school with: Tim Poovey, Justin Swain? maybe? , Jon Ericson? I think? They are skinner, bearded versions of their once selves. I am a skinner, taller version of my once self with way less brown cordouroy and piercings. The boys like this:

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They are pretty much cute as heck.

I was really impressed. Rarely do I say this, but they ‘rocked.’ They truly did. I even ‘rocked’ a bit with them. Their singer has serious skills, and as I gain more and more knowledge about the music industry, and music in general, I am starting to form these things called ‘opinions.’

And come to think of it – that was the second night in a row I pursued the viewing of a musical act. Monday night, I went to Pete’s Candy Store with ms. Marilyn Glinka/Lady Business. She looks like this:

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and is cute as heck, as well. We saw a two-lady act, cutely dubbed afternoon. They harmonized, sang cute songs about cigarettes and summer and heart break, and played the guitar and accordian. I was horrendously jealous. They were adorable, a lot.

They, too, as with lots of music, and the sound of Elizabeth talking to her mother on the phone, and the sound of Rachel Ray awkwardly interviewing Harry Potter about his sexuality, as with the song ‘No Diggity,’ as with Baptist Hymns, as with Baby Kitty’s incessant meow mouth – are better than silence.

Posted in brooklyn, music | No Comments »

On Fake Writing Resumes

September 18th, 2007 by Bekah Brunstetter

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I speak to ‘no one’ in particular.

Scattered fanbase persons: Listen. Self-publishing yourself and making up awards and then GIVING THEM to yourself does not dubb you a ‘published and award winning’ whatever. I’m sorry, but this gets my thongthathongthongthong all in a TIZZY. I totally understanding buffing up one’s restaurant resume, lying all to crap on something like that, I guess (thought I can see that if I were a waiter, that would piss me off too) – but on an artistic resume – that is HONKY, yo.  Everything on my resume is something I have accomplished and WORKED FOR and in a way, have earned the right to put this on my resume – there are no lies. I pride myself on one of the small slices of my lifecake that remains 100% honest,  respectable, and non-whorebag. Every bit of it is true. And I’m proud of it.

Posted in the writing of drama plays, whining | No Comments »

I Used to Write on Walls

September 17th, 2007 by Bekah Brunstetter

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Coming Soon to a theater near you – or not near you – at All – my new show, I Used to Write on Walls In which I take sweet drama play revenge on tepid, hilarious and unfortunate Bekah life experiences! EeeeEEEeee, even!

In what has been dubbed a ‘Anti-Romantic Comedy’ – eh? – Five women – unbeknownst to each other – all fall in love with the same sexy surfer/stoner who is on one rad, rad philosophical journey.

Posted in the writing of drama plays | No Comments »

AND

September 16th, 2007 by Bekah Brunstetter

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Posted in Uncategorized | No Comments »

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