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

Helplessness Blues

September 30th, 2012 by Bekah Brunstetter

For a writerperson, you’d think I would pay more attention to lyrics. But I usually like a song because of how it feels or moves as opposed to what it’s saying. But I can’t stop listening to this Fleet Foxes song for its words, which I really like, as they pertain to being young(ish) and not knowing what the crap to do with yourself. Longing to be grown. How to be a good / productive person, and defining what exactly that is. And so, here are those words!

I was raised up believing I was somehow unique
Like a snowflake distinct among snowflakes, unique in each way you can see
And now after some thinking, I’d say I’d rather be
A functioning cog in some great machinery serving something beyond me

But I don’t, I don’t know what that will be
I’ll get back to you someday soon you will see

What’s my name, what’s my station, oh, just tell me what I should do
I don’t need to be kind to the armies of night that would do such injustice to you
Or bow down and be grateful and say “sure, take all that you see”
To the men who move only in dimly-lit halls and determine my future for me

And I don’t, I don’t know who to believe
I’ll get back to you someday soon you will see

If I know only one thing, it’s that everything that I see
Of the world outside is so inconceivable often I barely can speak
Yeah I’m tongue-tied and dizzy and I can’t keep it to myself
What good is it to sing helplessness blues, why should I wait for anyone else?

And I know, I know you will keep me on the shelf
I’ll come back to you someday soon myself

If I had an orchard, I’d work till I’m raw
If I had an orchard, I’d work till I’m sore
And you would wait tables and soon run the store

Gold hair in the sunlight, my light in the dawn
If I had an orchard, I’d work till I’m sore
If I had an orchard, I’d work till I’m sore
Someday I’ll be like the man on the screen

Posted in a lot, boys, music | No Comments »

My America

September 29th, 2012 by Bekah Brunstetter

I am MOST honored to be a part of this monologue project.  Center Stage commissioned a bunch of playwrights to write monologues answering the question, What is my America?  Naturally, mine involves Cake, Jennifer Mudge, and will be online soonish. If you look closely, I am Vancouver, kind of!

Posted in a lot, awesome, the writing of drama plays | No Comments »

Executive decision

September 28th, 2012 by Bekah Brunstetter

Cousin Ella has a new baby girl! The wee Layla Beverly Bray (Beverly after our Grandma) has a long life of competitive cute games ahead of her. I mean, just check out the piece of work that is her freakishly adorable big brother, Danny. Ella, I would like to thank you for bearing children that are whimsically precious. You have officially inspired me, on this 28th day of September of the 30th year of my life, to declare that I will somehow have a kid when I’m 34. That just feels like the right year. So now, I’ll just start working backwards from there.

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September 27th, 2012 by Bekah Brunstetter

True love is loving someone so much that when they leave to get coffee and don’t come back 20 minutes later, you panic, make signs in Comic sans, and plaster telephone poles with their best picture. When they come home with a latte for you, you make fun of each other.

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September 26th, 2012 by Bekah Brunstetter

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Anytime; Anyplace

September 26th, 2012 by Bekah Brunstetter

The Ostrich pillow (TM) allows you to not only take a nap ANYWHERE but also look like a douchebag ALLTHETIME.

But also, I want one.

Posted in awesome, wanting | No Comments »

Scientology: Impressions

September 25th, 2012 by Bekah Brunstetter

Every morning I drive by the giant church of Scientology on Fountain Avenue. Were I judge the religion solely on the things I observe as I pass by, I’d say it basically revolves around business casual clothing that smells vaguely of 1998, mostly ‘slacks,’ chatting with others while slowly crossing the street, and carrying small bags of individually wrapped blueberry muffins.

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September 25th, 2012 by Bekah Brunstetter

In case you’re wondering how many days it took me to scratch my new car, it was exactly five. A villainous rock formation at the foot my my driveway LEPT OUT OF NOWHERE and scratched the front bumper up pretty good. Clearly it had nothing to do with negligence, but was a vicious attack. It’s going to cost $300 to fix, or: nearly a plane ticket to new york, one month’s worth of car payments, three nice dresses, 12 crappy dresses, or a month a half’s worth of toss your own salads. I think I’m going to have it fixed, for vanity’s sake. I just can’t accept the fact that I can’t even go a week with a new car without finding some way to damage it. In the meantime, I’ve been playing this fun game called At least it’s not scratched as bad as THAT! In which I look at other cars with scratches, and revel in other car owner’s dismay. I’ve also been playing At Least I Didn’t Injure Anyone, Or Get Injured. Looking at pictures also helps. At Least my Car isn’t scratched as bad as these Cars:

I mean, those cars are scratched pretty bad.

Posted in whining | No Comments »


September 24th, 2012 by Bekah Brunstetter


Et football!

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Still Life

September 23rd, 2012 by Bekah Brunstetter

I very much enjoy this slice of my phonelife.

Posted in awesome, narcissism | No Comments »

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