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

irksomely late

February 29th, 2012 by Bekah Brunstetter

Today on Stupid Things that Youngish Adult Humans do: I hate the thing where something officially starts at 8, so everyone immediately decides that they won’t show up til 10, as if showing up later is somehow better than being ontime. As if everyone abides by this secret social contract that no one shows up on time except the lamies, so everyone must arrive later to be as coolish as possible.


Your friend,

Your Grandmother.

Posted in what my friends are doing, whining | No Comments »


February 28th, 2012 by Bekah Brunstetter



Draw pictures with strangers and friends and feel weirdly connected to them.

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my thoughts on the Oscars, in Picture

February 27th, 2012 by Bekah Brunstetter

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February 27th, 2012 by Bekah Brunstetter

I’d like you to meet this incredible cocktail I had last night. Start with some sort of thick puree of tomato, jalapeno and parsley. And then, AND THEN, add tequila, cornona, and a confusingly spicy powder to garnish. The product is something to the effect of being kind of tipsy at a soup and or salad bar. LIKE IN A GOOD WAY.

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farewell, farmer’s market

February 26th, 2012 by Bekah Brunstetter

Let’s not talk about how my hand looks like the tush of a fat baby. Instead: it’s my last weekend in LA, so I marched myself straight to the farmer’s market for fresh fish tacos and other things that start with f, like Fun! Also tangerines. I’m getting real sad to leave. I’m very wherever you go / there you are, which I think sometimes prevents me from actually ENJOYING or BEING where I am. But LA is a lovely, lovely place that somehow compels you to take better care of yourself, take pleasure in the lil things,  and stop and smell the flowers / fish tacos.

Posted in a lot, where i want to live | No Comments »

footware; profundity

February 25th, 2012 by Bekah Brunstetter

My new running shoes make me feel like I could run like the WIND! or at least like  sort of a slow warm breeze on your face as you sit outside drinking, regretting very much that you did not go running this morning. Non-sequeter, but shoe related, remember these?

And how in fifth grade you were supposed to have them because everyone had them, but your parents wouldn’t buy them for you because they were 50 bucks, but by the time your begging wore them down and you, nearly puking with joy, ventured to the Soccer store on Stratford road and bought your first pair, and, in the safety of your bedroom, put them on, moving the tongue over to the side like everyone did, and proudly wore them to school, you were dismayed to find that everyone, instead, was now wearing these:

and your Sambas were completely irrellevant, rendering you inferior; a poser, invisible, which of course prompted you to violently lash out at the gazelle-wearing masses and their pick-up soccer games with poetry in your dream journal that later gave way to stories, that later gave way to plays, that eventually led to some sort of career in writing for televsion, which bought you these:

Posted in wanting, what I'm wearing, whining, women, words | No Comments »


February 24th, 2012 by Bekah Brunstetter

How often is it that we actually stop and think about what we want, as opposed to just going around, wanting it?

Personally, right now, I’d like some fat free mozzerella sticks and one really good idea.

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A Day with Kenny Powers

February 23rd, 2012 by Bekah Brunstetter

I’ve been re-watching some Eastbound and Down (for those whom have made their home under rocks: an HBO show about a pro baseball player with serious anger management issues who, after career failure, returns home to Shelby, NC, to teach phys ed at his once high school, and possibly one more part of this really long sentence) and it REALLY makes me want to go home and hang out with him, though he is not real. Just for a day. We could go drink beer at the par-course and share our hopes, failures, dreams. Immediately followed by Wendy’s and maybe some steroids or hate crimes. I think that super deplorable characters who are somehow made likeable is definitely my new favorite kind of television.

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For the Perfect Apartment that lives in my Mind

February 22nd, 2012 by Bekah Brunstetter

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The Check-in

February 21st, 2012 by Bekah Brunstetter

Today on TV Lingo: The Check-in. Definition: a seemingly story-less, but ultimately INVALUABLE scene that the producers always want more of. Check-ins allow characters to not just download their stories upon each other, but also, get advice that prompts them to their next move. As for my next move, ie, right now, I am going to make this about me. I need more check-ins in the on hour dramedy that is my life. I spend so much time by myself, in my own head, despite the occasional drink with friends or around a table with co-workers. My super close friends I don’t see much of, and usually just bottle up my angst and shout at them on the phone for an hour. How are we supposed to see the patterns in our behavior and not do dumb things without regular check-ins with good friends, where there are also strawberry milkshakes? Post-school, you have to re-create your own The Max. It just seems harder these days, especially when even answering the phone sometimes starts to feel like a huge inconvenience. Close friends: I miss you. I want to download all over you. Whoever calls me next, I will probably answer.

Posted in how interesting, I write for television?, what my friends are doing | No Comments »

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