01/10/2026
THE GOLD HOOPS ARE BACK & THE INTERNET IS NOT READY
Well well well… look who remembered she has a whole blog sitting over here collecting dust like a treadmill in February.
Hi. It’s me. I’m the problem, it’s me.
Between running businesses, mom-ing a teenager, keeping a man alive who thinks Pepsi Zero counts as hydration, and explaining to Myrtle Beach tourists that no, we do NOT actually fry everything here (just most things), my creative energy has been hiding in the pantry eating Cheez-Its.
But lately…?
She’s been stretching, cracking her knuckles, and whispering:
“Hey girl, let’s write again before we emotionally combust.”
So here’s your official notice:
The Gold Hoop Diaries is BACK.
And she’s coming in hot, sarcastic, unfiltered, and wearing the biggest hoops in the drawer.
If you forgot who we are over here, let me refresh your memory:
✨ We talk about things that matter and things that really don’t but are hilarious anyway
✨ We honor the chaos AND the beauty
✨ We don’t sugarcoat (we’re too tired for that)
✨ We are deeply unserious about life except for like… 3 things
✨ We are anti vanilla, pro Dunkin’, and aggressively nostalgic for the 80s/90s
✨ We have opinions and we’re not afraid to type them
AND GUESS WHAT???
A brand new blog post is dropping this Sunday.
Yes, this Sunday.
As in: the-day-after-Saturday.
So hydrate, stretch, set an alarm, get your snacks, tell your group chat, warn your pastor, whatever you need to do.
Because the hoops are about to start clacking against the keyboard again and honestly? I’ve got things to say.
If you love: real talk, dark humor, mom chaos, Carolina life, Massachusetts sarcasm, nostalgia, tiny bits of faith, and stories that make you laugh-cry… then you’re in the right place.
If you don’t?
Well… stick around anyway, I might win you over.
See y’all Sunday.
And don’t say nobody warned you 😏🖤✨
About Me Hey there—I’m Deborah. I’m 42 years deep into this beautiful, chaotic, ridiculous thing called life. I have just enough wisdom to know better, just enough stubbornness to occasionally ignore it, and just enough coffee to fake my way through the rest. I’m the proud, exhausted, and oc...
