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Fellow peasants, this is the first year I will have to pay taxes to my King, and it ain’t no shillings or bags of rice.  I am deducting as many of my mules, haystacks and as much farm equipment as possible and still owe quite a lot. For the first time ever, I feel these woes. Wait, you want to take my money? But that’s MY money! I EARNED That money!!!  I can hear my Dad chuckling knowingly  from here.

YAY, NACHOS, YAY!

Also, the Saints.

Meet Hank. I found him when going through my Grandma’s old stuff, and instantly decided that his name was probably Hank, and that he was probably a secret lover of hers, so I couldn’t bear to let him be thrown away. And so, now he sits on my desk and watches me write. Technically it’s not cheating because he is most likely dead, and also made of paper.

See our patriarch, Grandpa Bray, shoveling 26 inches of snow! Go Grandpa Go!

Also, a special mention is deserved by my Mom, who single-handedly TOOK THIS PICTURE AND THEN EMAILED IT TO ME WITH HER NEW PHONE ALL BY HERSELF.  Amazing. I think hell just froze over. Or is that Maryland?

Hello it is I! Commercial!

What? You like plays? What? Do you know Original Works Online? Perhaps you should be-fan them on facebook here. 

The are an excellent west-coast based publishing and licensing house whom I’ve been working with since I finished Grad School. They published one of my first full-lengths which was a huge confidence booster. I like them. You will too! Also, the do FREE PLAY DAYS (during which, they select a play to be free.) Browse their catalogue, it’s pretty diverse and full and rad.

I think I am now a grown up? I suspect this because I can now afford to pay for my own haircuts, I actually listen to the person cutting my hair, I have accepted my hair and no longer try and fight it, and I haven’t dyed it blonde / orange / blue / burgendy / ‘the color of the night’ in YEARS. Welcome to adulthood, ms. brunstetter.

This is why I do not try new things!

While bored and jury dutying, I decided that what I REALLY needed most in my life, the answer to any and all philosophical dilemnas, was a pair of clogs. And so, I searched. I found Jan’s Ugglebo clogs? One of those sketchy, old-timey looking websites that makes you think it’s a scam run by some guy in his basement in queens. But, the clogs were rad, made-to-order in Sweden, select your own leather, reasonably priced. But you couldn’t even order on the site, you just fill out this request form thing with your phone number. And so, I did.

Dun dun dunnnn.

I forgot about it until yesterday, sure enough, I got a call from Jans himself. Fans, Jans is real, and he is very Swedish, and he is very nice. We had a long conversation about life in New York ‘I come to New York in the Seventies and I make lot of money at Bank! But then I did not like it and moved to North Carolina! And now I sell clogs!’

 After a long heart to heart in which Jans and I shared frustrations of city life, credit card information and our feelings, I ordered my clogs (bright blue leather.)

So I say to ye: order some clogs from Jans!! He is so nice and they’re real affordable / adorable. He even makes man and baby clogs. Well techincally he doesn’t make them, I think his friends in Sweden do. But still, in my mind, I am hoping he looks something like this:

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