This blog sprang to life almost a decade ago with aspirations of sharing budget-friendly Paleo recipes with the masses—a pursuit that lasted less than nine months. And while my passion for Paleo was quickly eclipsed by my love of carbs, the dream of becoming a skinny rich girl? Alive and well. I’ve continued paying the annual fee for this domain name like a well-intentioned gym membership. Time to put it to some use. Thanks to certain current events in the United States, this little corner of the internet is getting a facelift and a renewed sense of purpose.

Trump has promised us all riches as he makes America ‘great again,’ and his newly minted Secretary of Health and Human Services, RFK, assures us that we’ll all be ‘healthy again’ too (and while not explicitly mentioned, skinny is assumed). The promises of wealth and wellness have been wholeheartedly embraced by the delusional. The real question is: will the delusional release their bear hug before we descend into full-fledged fascism? So far… unlikely.

It’s been exactly one month since Trump was inaugurated for his encore performance—this time as the 47th President of the United States. To call the first month of his administration “frustrating” would be like calling the Grand Canyon a “small ditch.” My doom-scrolling habit has reached Olympic levels, with headlines seemingly ripped from a dystopian novel. Social media has become less of an outlet and more of an abyss, so perhaps this blog can be a slightly healthier escape—a space to process, vent, and at the very least, stretch my creative writing muscles beyond the confines of 300-character rage posts.

I don’t know if I have a grand point here, and maybe I don’t need one. But if pressed, I’d say this is about documenting the sheer absurdity of this moment in history—a kind of time capsule for myself (and anyone else who stumbles upon this digital diary) as we inevitably try to decipher what on earth happened. Think of it as a 2025 Diary of a Young Girl—except in my case, it’s more like Diary of a Perimenopausal Mother. Maybe that’s a slightly hyperbolic stretch — I hope so.

While I won’t promise to limit my scope, my musings will probably lean toward all things health and healthcare, since that’s where my expertise (and anxieties) lie. So, if you’re also processing 2025 like a bad fever dream—welcome.