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

half my friends are acrobats

June 8th, 2008 by Bekah Brunstetter


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face thing

June 8th, 2008 by Bekah Brunstetter

People, I have a gift. May it never be said that I was not a Gal of many talents. I have been told, and it has been proven true, that I can make some of the best strange faces ever. It’s true. There is some sort of uncanny elasticity happening with my face at all times – in conjunction with a button-esque nose that does what it wants – and a quasi – third chin. Rendering my whole face capable of gems such as:




Though I spent a fair number of years cursing the teletubbiness of mon visage – I think I have officially accepted it. I am 26 next week, after all. It’s time to stop lamenting the things I can’t control. For example, my face, and it’s odd/charming mind of its own.


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June 4th, 2008 by Bekah Brunstetter


When I go, they will say about me:

That one. She was not hard to Please.

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June 2nd, 2008 by Bekah Brunstetter

It is important to stand flippantly with friends outside a payless in midtown, en route to Sex and the City (the movie, friends. The movie.)


It is even more important to bring your Gays with you, though they and their Summer Shorts will secretly sneak off to Indiana Jones, and report later of its snake-d and whip-ed splendor. With kindness, you will bestow One Thermos of vodka upon them.


Nextly, it is crucial to patron the one NYC bar owned and run by a tarheel, who just so happened to recently open a new location New You. It’s important to order the fishbowl o’ stuff with the lizard toy dying inside of it. It’s important to pose with it like it’s pretty, because it is.


In said bar, pretend like no one is taking Pictures of you.


Fourthly, I think, voire the film. Enjoy adult beverages hidden in nalgene bottles throughout.


Hoot like it’s Shakespeare when Samantha first enters; boo and cry.  Put the sour patch kids INSIDE of the popcorns. Eat the nacho cheese with your hands. Revel in the sort of bad goodness of this awful, wonderful thing. (Mainly wonderful. Seriously good.)

Carpe the opportunity to be stupid; to pin fake flowers to your shirt and dance. I seriously forget sometimes.

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