Archive | March 2013


hannah brencher.


When I graduated from college, there were people who said things that hurt me so.

They never intended to prick me. Their hope was never to harm me with their stacking of words. But me, I’ve always been too sensitive of a soul, skipping the heart-on-sleeve sewing to chuck my heart on the concrete for others like the throwing of candy at the St. Patrick’s Day Parade.

So when they told me I would be the kind of girl who walked in and out of others’ lives I simply told them no. No, I would be rooted. No, I would stay. And when they told me I would be the kind of girl to never look back at them I told them no. No, I would be turning my head back more than they could count. No, I would be spinning round & round to find them.


They were…

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hannah brencher.


I’ve been living in the Land of Juicy Memoir Writing as of late.

When not traveling, or booking brews, or frolicking around with a mail crate, I’ve been hanging in a land where sleep barely ever scratches at the window. And unicorns don’t prance in chocolate fountains (I know, I’m shocked too!). And inspiration wakes you from a tousled mess of dreams at 2am. And you begin to wonder if your skin will ever know sunlight again or if you’ll just resort to prehistoric grunting when the last shreds of human interaction you hold run dry in your soul.

Some days you cry. Other days you ball your hands into fists and march around the room when you finish a chapter. And most days you have to schedule out slivers of 30 seconds to keep your sanity with the Harlem Shake.

But alas, it’s an amazing little blessing to…

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hannah brencher.


The Break Up

It begins with a break up.

Not the kind of break up that lends itself to tissues and chocolate peanut butter pie; although I am often tempted to date, just to break up, just to fall head first into a justified peanut butter pie coma. But no, no; this is the kind of break up that stems from a chance encounter. This is the break up we have seen played out in nearly every movie that Kate Hudson has graced the screen in. Like every classic, often predictable, chick flick: the protagonist who seemingly “has it all” settles into a relationship that cheapens her worth. The guy is never around. Married to his work. Flirts with other girls. But said protagonist does not give a second thought to leaving. Or finding better.

Until…. That epic chance encounter with a rugged costar who awkwardly bumps into her in…

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