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(suburb of)  perks include:the Hotel poolthe Hotel jaccuzzithe hotel towelsumalso the jaccuzziumthat’s pretty much it.  

 I love swinging home for the weekend. Perks include Uncle Robert Brunstetter, Peter Brunstetter Jr., Peter Brunstetter Sr., Sargent Timothy Brunstetter (i think,) Sargrent Dan Brunstetter (I also think), Jodie Brunstetter, assorted life-size statues and stuffed statues of the deceased Tanner Brunstetter (canine,) free hot dogs, Goodwill, Peach Pie ice cream, hugs, naps,  the Me driving around a Big Truck, lessons on rifles, grandfolk, chocolate cake, hot summer storms, and indigestion.It seriously gets better and better every time. I swear my bed here is made of marshmallows and it’s so hard to leave. This trip in particular was arranged for Dan and Tim’s farewell barbecue.Red, white and blue jelly beans were served in patriotic little dishes as we well-wished the lads on their way to Iraq. I’m actually going to return to New York with way less fear for them than I had before. Having sat down with both them while home and really gotten a sense of where they’re going / what they’re going to be doing, I think Dan’s right when he says that in terms of the likelihood of him dying Over There,  I have just as good of a chance as getting hit by a cab.  Well said, Daniel. Well said. Please see later a thorough report of Dan’s theory on how we can All get Rich. It involves some island off of Georgia, commercial real estate, and a family business. I pretty much believe him entirely, a lot.  

This is Brunstetter reporting from suite 802. The guy in the office across the hall has been watching lesbian porn. All day.

Cheers.

I narrate:

1. I am about to kiss your face.

2. Seriously, I’m going to do it.

3. I’m totally doing it right now.

4. I’m sorry I taste weird.

Did I mention I had a birthday? Last Friday, I turned 26. Yeah, I did that. In consistent Bekah form, I forced loved ones to celebrate my life over the course of a good week. I’m REAL big into birthdays. My Dad always used to, okay, still does, announce the arrival of Bekah Birthday Parade, as I always made such a big to do over it.

This year’s bday highlights included a mandatory picnic in McCarren Park, featuring water balloons, impromptu acrobatics, a dog with giant balls, and a light sebers being weilded  by an enthusiastic member of the New York Jedi club.. Saber? Seber. Eh.

A special delivery to work from Mom (PS, my desk, ew, weird)

Fancy din with Steve, at which I blew:

The being Stranded at the Tire Store.  See California behind me. Note the frown, and the Denny’s.

And finally, the finding of a Giant faced sized cocktail with Becky, which is all I really wanted secretly (exceptfortheperfumestevegotmethatireallyreallywantedthankssteve.)

.

All in all, a great bday. Thanks to all who participated.

The fat hairy rat lept, bold, out of the garbage truck on west 38th street. He sprinted towards the sewer; freedom; rapidly crossing the path of a group of business clad ladies, who all subsequently went ‘eeeeee.’ The chivalrous Fed Ex delivery man thought nothing of it as he chased the rat down the street, trapping it by a cab, beating it to death with a broom. The ladies still ‘eee’ ed but were pleased by the gentleman’s chivolery. Gently, the Rat died.

If you plan on using your macbook for purposes such as writing, emailing, doing, everything all the time, a lot, really really need it, or documenting your recent mild atrocity of a trip to California – try to avoid a lively  5 am game of  inebriated darts with your friend from Graduated School, as he is prone to knock the helpless thing off the counter, rendering the LCD screen cracked and sad and unusable.

Now: For a mere $800, apple will rectify this situation for you. If you are anywhere near a thing that is My Boat, this kind of makes you want to die. A lot.  So: Or: employ the Steven Baughman, who knows his screws from his LCD screens,  who swears he can boyscout it up and fix it himself for half as much. Until then, I am nearly computerless. It’s closest I’ve come to the (near) lost of a loved one. Pathetic? Yeah. Grateful for that?  Yes.

So Cal: or as my Dad dubs it, Northern Mexico.

A more detailed of my voyage, with pictures and everything, to come, BUT:

One would think that wherever you go in LA, you can see this sign. So not true.  It’s actually only visible from five select places, and only for a moment. It can be hiked to or sought out, but it doesn’t as one might think, lear over Sunset Boulevard.

Thusfar, I appreciate the sunshine and tacos and sensibilities, as well as all the amazing people I met through my show at Little Bird Productions. But: the simple fact that I loathe cars, car things, car issues, traffic, and all things related to cars, generally, might be the thing that keeps me away.

it’s beautiful. I can’t believe it. Right on the water. Mountains and breaking waves and Elizabeth Castoria. The spending of my life savings on little dresses and shoes and gifts for my loved ‘uns. Fantastic. Just fyi. I’m exhausted.

Driving to LA tommorrow.

Tommorrow being my birthday.

eeeeee

So my recently seperated siamese twins (a love story) story,  Arms,  is finally out in this anthology, which is awesome.

It looks like this:

But why?