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

Gimmee a Break

June 24th, 2012 by Bekah Brunstetter

Remember / know of giant Kit Kats? It’s like one big single piece that is kind of like gnawing on Goliath’s finger. I remember that there was some point in my life that I rewarded myself with those things, ie, ate them arbitrarily, and a lot. Unrelated: I’ve noticed that I never, ever consciously tell myself that I’m going to take a break from writing. It just sort of happens. My brain refuses to think original thoughts and I end up on the train trying to write haikus that end up like

I am on the train

The train is going somewhere

I will get there soon

And I get really frustrated and convince myself that I’ve lost whatever sort of gift I once had. Eventually, it always returns. This time, instead of torturing myself and feeling bad about it, I am consciously taking a break from playwriting. For the first time in 4 years, I have no commissions due. I have no new plays to write. This feels kind of liberating, because the next play I write, will really, really be mine. It’ll grab me when I’m sleeping or reading or staring at someone, and I’ll start it then, but not a moment before or after. In the meantime, I have plenty of plays to rewrite which I will definitely be doing, as well as working on some non-fictiony pieces, a movie, and some tv ideers that maybe, just maybe, actually have some legs. I will also be spending plenty of time googling Japan and its really weird kinds of Kit Kats because A.) do that right now, and B.) also, one of these fascinating flavors is grilled corn. See also sweet potato, and soy sauce.

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And so!

June 23rd, 2012 by Bekah Brunstetter


Today, on The New Girl, I spent way too much time making this flag cake for Jocey’s early 4th of July going away party. I’ve known Jocey for some five years now through Ars Nova, and she’s one of the coolest girls I know, probably because she’s pretty much a dude, in the best way. We share a penchant for slightly boyish manners (we both have lots of brothers) but also dresses. She’s leaving us for Chicago for business school. I will miss her, a lot!  I will also make her sit in a folding chair and eat this entire cake with a fork while I watch.

Posted in a lot, food, Uncategorized, what my friends are doing | No Comments »

June 22nd, 2012 by Bekah Brunstetter

As a survivor of schoolbus taunting (I distinctly remember high school pre-drivers license, the A holes at the back of the bus screaming BEKAH BUTTSMELLER! EY BEKAH BUTTSMELLER! Sure, one of them later became my boyfriend for 4 years, but still. So WHAT if I’m in high school and my Mom still does my hair and I never take off my yellow Buddy Holly glasses? SO WHAT, and other things that make this sentence in the middle of another sentence very long) I really relate to this School Bus Monitor pictured above. A group of middle school boys (is there a worse age, for boys?) made fun of her, as they always did, on the bus ride home, but this time, somebody filmed it and it went viral. They call her fat, ugly, tell her that she’s ‘so ugly her kids should kill themselves.’ Little did they know, one of her sons actually had committed suicide.

Reading what these guys said to her – it all feels so familiar, and I weirdly get it. I remember middle school, and the things we said to each other, especially the meaner ones. No one even knows what they’re saying. Everything you say outloud in middle school is so that someone else will hear it. It’s not even for you. I remember this one kid telling me I was ‘too fat to exist’ so then I pulled down his soccer shorts. But! Happy ending: someone started an online donation center to send this lady on a cruise, and now she’s got $400K. I love this so much, and Mt. Tabor, I patiently await my compensation funds, for Costa Rica emotional distress.

Posted in a lot, boys, life, memories | No Comments »

and Doin it Well

June 21st, 2012 by Bekah Brunstetter

German researchers discovered fossils of ancient turtles, mid-coitus. Ie, they died coit-y. They’ve determined that the turtles were so into their love-making that they pretty much didn’t notice that they were sinking deep into volcanic ash, through layers of lake, and eventually became trapped and died. I can’t say my faith in humanity or the power of love is confirmed, or restored, but I’m feeling pretty good about turtles right now.

Posted in awesome, how interesting, the whole world | No Comments »


June 20th, 2012 by Bekah Brunstetter

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June 20th, 2012 by Bekah Brunstetter

My The Rapist says that worry is using your imagination to create what you don’t want. For example, I worry that I’ll never work in this town again and will have to go home and live underneath my parent’s pool table in the basement. Is it worry, or is it creating narratives for bad things to happen, so that they don’t? So that we remain realistic in terms of our expectations for our lives? Parents, no offense against your pool table, or basement, because after all, it is carpeted down there, and that table is conveniently located next to a minifridge.

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We change, but Don’t

June 20th, 2012 by Bekah Brunstetter

Me writing in Hostel, Prague, 2005. I’m still pretty sure No One in Long Island loves me. Sweet T shirt, Hipstetter.

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Cleanin out my Closet

June 19th, 2012 by Bekah Brunstetter

All of my old writings and pictures from college now only exist on a harddrive that my Dad got me for Christmas a while back that, if anything ever  happened to it, might prompt my suicide. I’m searching through it for my Fiction Writing Thesis duely titled ‘Salad’ and I just found this poem that makes me really sad.

Growing up crooked

I once found out what a school Night weighed;

What exactly it could carry:

Scrambled late night biographies, popcorn, old coke,

Remembering sad things must happen to you, so you will be interesting,

and then sad things really did.

I will never weigh it all together here;

The things I hide in paper bags will never

Meet the things I lied, in childhood.

There are the true things: the curve where

Spine meets head, the flesh of too short fingernails,

The strawberry place where birth marked me.

Honesty, you are too grown up and straight

and uncolorful for me to ever get my fingers on.

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Tries on Bathing suits; Quits Food

June 19th, 2012 by Bekah Brunstetter

I vote to bring back the Bathing Costume. Maybe we are just really not meant to wear so little clothing as the bathing costume of today demands. Why are they all now bedazzled rubber bands? Why? More importantly, I am so freaking sick of obsessing and depriving and running and obsessing and squatting and lifting in desperate hopes of there being one day in my life where I actually feel good in a bathing suit. It’s just not gonna happen, people! As a child I just ate way too many personal pan pizzas. It’s just not gonna happen. Also, I wish I was less shallow and that even I believed that beauty is within, and that I spent way more time discovering said inner beauty, and way less time lunging. Okay, now I go eat an entire chicken pot pie.

Posted in life, whining, women | No Comments »

More of Our Parts

June 18th, 2012 by Bekah Brunstetter

Toot; Toot! I’m in the New Yorker a little bit this week. You know what? Why shouldn’t I toot my own horn? Why would I want someone else’s mouth on my horn. Why would I want that?

Theatre Breaking Through Barriers presents plays with and about disabled actors, with a goal of ‘changing the image of people with disabilities from dependence to independence.’ I like that.  I wrote for this amazing girl Shannon DeVido. Her plight simultaneously involves pancakes and trying to take over the world. COME SEE!

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

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