Balboa Island In A Storm

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For Bryce and my anniversary this year, we took the town by storm.

Literally, there was a freak storm.

But it didn’t keep us from enjoying our weekend. We packed the car, threw on some extra layers, ran to Walmart (because neither of us owned an umbrella), and headed out to Balboa Island for a beautiful day of quirky shops and beachfront views.

Neither of us had ever been there, so my parents gave me the lowdown of where to take Bryce for dinner and ice cream and what places to see.

Of course, I brought my camera.

My Phone Was Stolen . . . And You’d Never Guess Who Did It #ThePerfectCrime

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It was a regular Sunday afternoon. I was in church.

CHURCH, MIND YOU. CHURCH! GOD’S HOUSE.

It was after choir practice and I was helping put music away. I had my precious, immaculate, white, brand-new iPhone XR in my hand. I placed it on a bench, along with my music folder, and turned away briefly to kneel down and grab a stack of music off the floor.

When I turned back, it was gone.

I’m Not Allowed In Costco

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Over the course of this year, I have tried and signed up for many a new thing, all on the journey to become—what I refer to as—”a real adult grown up human person.”

Wifi bills. Accounting apps. Dental insurance.

And getting my own Costco card.

Oh yeah. I went out and dun’it. Got my photo taken and everything.

Stupid black-and-white photo on the back of that card makes me look like a smiling, psychopathic serial killer. But whatever.

What It’s Like Living Alone As A 23 Year-Old

Rebekah Koontz what it's like living aone

As you undoubtedly already know because my YouTube videos are vastly popular, I’ve moved out of my parents house. We went from a family of six to five, to four, to three, until I finally flew the coup.

And now I’m all alone.

A lone wolf. A loner. A wanderer without strings, going wherever the wind takes me, responsible for no one and nothing. Also, very long-winded in her sentences.

Apartment #100 — I Moved Out!

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Big news, people. BIG. NEWS.

No I’m not engaged.

And if you thought “pregnant,” wash your mouth out with soap. And rubbing alcohol. And then soap again…

I moved out of my parents’ house!

Am I Afraid?

For the past six months, I have had an illness—blessedly not contagious—called writer’s block. But just now, as I so begrudgingly drug my butt into the prophetic Writer’s Seat, I realized something.

I don’t have writer’s block.

I am afraid.

Me And My Words

Me and my words Rebekah Koontz Rebecca Coonts blogger

There was this boy I knew once.

Well, knew was an understatement. For lack of better words, I may even say I had fallen for him.

On the morning of Halloween, he disclosed that he didn’t reciprocate my googoo-eyes. His reason being? That my being a writer was a turn-off.

Irony amuses me, which is why I chose to write about him now. *

But this post isn’t about crushes past. **

Vlogmas 2017 | Wrap Up

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Is that the sound of presents opening or jaws dropping?

Regardless, your eyes do not deceive you. I am posting a YouTube video.

Vlogmas 2017, condensed, in eight minutes.

Mondays Suck

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It is a truth universally acknowledged that Mondays suck.

The alarm sounds. You rip your eyelids open. And instead of a day filled with cookies, long naps, and TV, you have to crawl out from under your toasty warm bedsheets and go to the eight hour dungeon called work.

Work that forces you to shower, brush your teeth, and do your makeup—all on a day that you really don’t want to.

That is Monday.

I am convinced that certain horrors only occur on Mondays. Tiny irritations that make you throw your head back and groan. And they start at the stroke of twelve.

Cody, My Hero

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I don’t Black Friday shop. Being five-foot-two, I have never had the desire to be trampled into a human pancake, black heel imprints on my forehead.

I work hard to clear up the skin on my forehead. I don’t want footprints on it. Acne products are expensive, man.

However, Friday (yes, The Friday, Black Friday, the big kahoona), giddy from getting my hair done, I waltzed to my nearest Best Buy, blissfully unaware of the ugly shopper’s flurry that surrounded me.