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

Inclusivity

November 17th, 2017 by Bekah Brunstetter

Today, on when will I️ learn to stop letting photographers tell me touch my face/ but also when will I️ ever stop letting a bad picture nearly ruin my day and rock my self esteem to the point that it eclipses whatever the article is actually about:

Hollywood is gradually become less cliquish, more diverse, welcoming the points of views of a wide array of people such as human toes with hair who write plays, and NOW ALSO INCLUDING TIRED OLD BABIES. WAAAAAA / DRINKS FORMULA / WRITES WILL / TAKES NAP

Posted in Uncategorized | No Comments »

Home is where your socks and cat and vodka are

November 16th, 2017 by Bekah Brunstetter

So maybe during this week of transitioning into a new home, I also have an episode in production which means 14 hour days, but at the end of each one, I get to go Home to the essentials.

Not pictured: Husband; ALSO ESSENTIAL.

Posted in YAY, a lot, i am a grown up, i am lucky, where i want to live, working | No Comments »

I’m old

November 15th, 2017 by Bekah Brunstetter

We are slowly filling our house with grown up things, and so I’ve been using my down time on set this week to hunt for stuff. Here are some of my STOOL SAMPLES.

SEE WHAT I️ DID THERE? NO? YOU MUST NOT BE A 57 YEAR OLD MAN WITH A LIMITED AND LITERAL SENSE OF HUMOR IE MY TARGET AUDIENCE

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THIS IS GHOSTS

November 14th, 2017 by Bekah Brunstetter

Our DP grabbed this strange and awesome picture of me trying to make sense of the words I wrote while unbeknownst to me, Sterling lurked behind me menacingly, but it also might be a poster for an arthouse sitcom about co-worker ghosts?

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sup, bra?

November 13th, 2017 by Bekah Brunstetter

For reasons I will surely spend the rest of my life trying to understand, my bra somehow just undid itself under my shirt. Working theories:

- my bra is a twelve year old boy

- somewhere on the Paramount Lot, there is an invisible twelve year old boy

- I am actually a twelve  year old boy

Posted in YAY, hmmmmm, what I'm wearing, what i am NOT wearing, whining | No Comments »

Dust

November 12th, 2017 by Bekah Brunstetter

We can’t quite sleep in our new place yet, as it’s still quite covered in dust from the ongoing renovations, and I’m allergic to dust, so we gladly spent the night in a vaguely European hotel in Glendale where I’m pretty sure amateur porn producers house new girls when the fly in from Tampa. All of this to say, I am allergic to dust.  Reflecting on it now, is that not the lamest allergy there ever was? And isn’t EVERYONE allergic to dust? Isn’t it just like being allergic to clouds or periods at the end of sentences? I’ve known it since I went to the allergist when I was ten-ish and the doctor walked in on my putting my shirt back on. I learned three things that day: shame,  that my dust allergy was mild but persistent, and that I am BASICALLY THE MOST BASIC PERSON THAT HAS EVER LIVED.

Posted in YAY, memories, silly, whining | No Comments »

He likes to move It move it 

November 11th, 2017 by Bekah Brunstetter


Being a grown up person has its drawbacks, surely, responsibilities, mortality, keeping up with phone chargers, etc., but then you get to hire professionals to move your board games and drink a beer while they do it.

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feelings re: moving

November 10th, 2017 by Bekah Brunstetter

We are MOVING THIS WEEKEND! Please let this picture stand for my feelings surrounding it.

I’m really excited about and grateful for the giant pizza, but also I’m little sad to leave my home of four years, my whimsical dwarf cottage, my first On My Own home, where I at first had nothing but my books shipped from brooklyn and some forks my friend gave me, where big and small things happened, where I was alone until I welcomed someone In. I’m also just in general overwhelmed by the size and scope of both the physical move, and also the life moment OH  JUST EAT THE PIZZA, BRUNSTETTER.

Posted in YAY, a lot, i am lucky, memories | No Comments »

Rosemary Nuts

November 9th, 2017 by Bekah Brunstetter

Yesterday, I happened upon a jar of Rosemary Nuts, and now I can’t stop wondering who she is. Is she an aspiring stand up comedian who lives in a spare bedroom in North Hollywood with a couple she met on craigslist? Does she only ever eat scrambled eggs?  Is she an amateur astronomer? Is she the only woman left in the world who cuts coupons out of the Sunday paper? Does she have a past checkered with parking violations and sinus infections? DOES SHE MAKE HER OWN PUPPETS? IS SHE MY HALLOWEEN COSTUME NEXT YEAR? OH  WHO CARES WHAT SHE IS SHE’S DELICIOUS

Posted in a lot, hmmmmm, women, words | No Comments »

FALL 2017

November 8th, 2017 by Bekah Brunstetter

Posted in I am furious, a lot, i am scared | No Comments »

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