Dear Internet,

Mr. Lisa does not appreciate my green velour tracksuit (Costco $18.99). I just need a chunky wooden bead necklace, a Virginia Slim cigarette, and brassy red hair for my Mrs. Roper dream to come true.

Back when Mr. Lisa and I first got together (late 1990s), we concocted the idea of the “Cookie.” The Cookie is a woman of age with brassy red hair, too much make-up, wears lepoard print clothes, hangs out at bars, hits on men half her age, and smokes cigarettes. Her name is always Cookie and she’s always got stories to tell. (Her caricature is influenced by Mrs. Roper.)

So, when Mr. Lisa and I are out and about, when we see someone like our Cookie, we point them out.

Cookie stayed in my mind for decades and I swore that I would never be with her. But old age has softened my approach. While I no longer smoke, I do wear leopard print clothes, married a younger man, sometimes wear too much make-up, and wear chunky beads and velour track suits. A Cookie is who I aspire to be because I bet she had a lot of fun in her life and has no regrets.

Off the Rack

When I was digging through the piles of velour tracksuits at Costco, I thought how it’s still a marvel to me I can buy clothes off the rack. I don’t think anyone, man or woman, whose been a straight size (non fat) understands that not having to spend gobs of extra dollars to get something to wear feels. I’m comfortably between an XL and XXL and my pants are roughly a size 18. While that may still seem “big,” a lot of stores now consider their straight size items up to a 20. Anything over a 20 and you’re right back at Lane Byrant.

My approach to clothes has changed over the years because I was so desperate to be fat and fabulous. But fat people’s clothes cost more (sometimes significantly more) and even when I was making big girl money, I couldn’t justify spending $200 on a pair of pants.

Even so, my style has not really evolved. I still wear t-shirts as my main method of tops. (Being tall with 42DD boobs is still a hinderance.) I still wear Chucks and Docs. I own too many pairs of leggings. The cardigans rule my closet and I still hate wearing socks.

What is different is that I refuse to buy pants that do not have at least a bit of elasticized waist, which thankfully, is now a thing. I am very hippy with a small waist and even 65 pounds down, finding pants with buttons and zips that actually fit still doesn’t exist. A treat I wanted for myself as I lost weight was to wear leather pants (see Cookie). I bought a few pairs in two different sizes from the Gap. As of earlier this year, I could pull up the larger size but not button and zip. Both pairs live in my closet, still in their shipping bags.

My surgery will be three years ago this December 27th.

As most of you know, this summer I went to a conference where the awards ceremony was cocktail dress attire. I do not own a cocktail dress so I googled what it meant. I did some shopping and bought a few things but as I walked out of the dressing room of Torrid, they had pleather leggings on their clearance rack. I grabbed two sizes and was shocked to find the smaller size fit perfectly. I immediately bought the pleather leggings.

For the awards ceremony, I put sparkly clips in my hair, paired the pleather leggings with a black tank-top (and wore a push up bra to boot), a red lip, and my leopard print Doc sandles.

I got a lot of compliments.

Now. We’re heading to EU in late March. Leather pants were a thing last few times I went so do I bring my pleather leggings with me or leave them home?

Things I Did Today

After a year, I am back on tracking my food intake and what I did for the day. For the food intake, I’m just keeping track of what I ate for the day. I’m using the Day One app. I am not tracking amount other than to say, “1 overnight oats.” I’m not measuring or weighing anything or tracking my macros. That shit sends me over the edge in my body dysmorphia. The reason why I’m doing this is to get a better handle on my eating and looking to integrate a more healthy lifestyle. I still believe that food is neutral (there is no bad or good food) but my weight has crept up a few pounds than I like so I want to see what I’m eating. I’m also tracking water (which I do not get enough of).

And after nearly six months of having my gym membership on hold, I restarted it. Last winter was the pits as for movement went as I’m 25 minutes away from the Y. I plan on 2-3x a week and I started this past week. Nothing crazy. The fat burner setting on the treadmill or rowing. I’m also going to take advantage of the classes. I complained in the past about “time,” but I’m making time. I want to be a healthy and flexible Cookie. I mean, how else am I going to get a younger man if Mr. Lisa dies or leaves me?

For the “what I did today,” I’m using Day One for this as well. I just keep a list of everything I did that day from making the bed to taking my meds to how many hours I worked on NGI stuff. In the past, I created a set of daily goals but that was stressful so I stopped because I felt like shit when I couldn’t attain those goals. I like this idea better and it helps with my ADHD.

I did create a goal setting for 2026. It’s shit like, “read 100 books this year” and “practice self-care.” Nothing too crazy.

This reminds me I need to do a goal setting for NGI for the year of our lord, 2026.

The Travels

To pick up the rest of my travel from when I saw elbow in Detroit a few weeks ago, here is what happened the morning after.

My first hometown I lived in until I was 13 and I could not wait to get the fuck out of Dodge. I would long for large cities, diversities, and subways. My growing up years were fine, but I do not hold any special feelings about that place.

While that all may be true, my mother, two of my aunts, and my grandparents are buried there. The rest of my mom’s siblings, save her brother, also still live there. It was time to make a visit as it had been since 2019 when my favorite aunt died and we went to her funeral.

PH is a commuter town that got populated by the White Flight that took place in Detroit from the end of WW2 and up into the 1967 Detroit riots. Like I said, diversity doesn’t exist. There was one BIPOC person, Audra, in my entire school in the 1970s and ‘80s.

Since it was so close to where I was, and I didn’t have anything else to do that day nor did I have to be home at a certain time, I decided to drive up to see mother’s grave.

Now, PH is a border town with Sarnia, Ontario. Growing up, going to Sarnia was just like driving across town. I just didn’t think about it. No one did. It’s not uncommon for PHers to work in Sarnia or vice versa.

Now, back when I was in Niagara Falls, my Canadian friends took me to Dollarama, their version of Dollar General. I have a massive sweet tooth and I procured full size bars of Canadian candy for 75¢ USD. I bought a lot.

When that candy was done, I had my Canadian friends ship me a care package. The cost of the shipping was more than the cost of the candy so I decided this would not be a thing I would do again.

Anyway, the bridge to Sarnia was on my way mother’s grave, so I Google mapped the closest Dollarama and set off across the bridge.

(I always carry my passport card with me which you can use to get into Canada and Mexico but no where else.)

Getting into Canada was easy peasy. The conversation with the Canadian border guard went like this:

CBG: What is your purpose in Canada?

Me: To buy candy at Dollarama.

CBG: Explain.

Me: *rattles off brands not available in the US*

CBG: *silence*

CBG: Enjoy your stay.

I swapped my odometer setting from mph to km so I would not speed. I drove to the closest Dollarama, took a picture of the store, bought my candy, and left for the bridge to head back into the US.

Now, the bridge is actually two bridges going across St. Clair River. One is into Canada and the other is back into the US. You can’t really see what the inbound traffic is like until you are on the Canada bound bridge. I saw a line heading into the US but it seemed to be moving. I did not think twice about.

I WAS IN THAT LINE FOR THREE FUCKING HOURS.

I pull up to the US border guard, who was a jovial fellow. We chatted about my exploits and no, I would not wait in line for three hours for fucking candy. I’ll gladly pay the fucking shipping costs from Canada to the US. (Chocolate is seemingly excempt from tariffs.)

After I got into the US, I continued on to the cemetery where my family is buried. Mother and her two sisters are cremated and share a plot and a headstone while my grandparents are a few headstones down the row.

Anyone who has been a regular reader of me knows my relationship with mother was…complicated. I did not know how I was going to react when I saw her grave.

Well, dear reader. I was more angry than sad. I told her to fuck off. Spoke to my aunts about how I missed them, and updated my grandparents on my marriage and latest shenanigans.

I did not nor do I feel guilty about telling my mother to fuck off. She was an unmedicated bipolar narcissist who emotionally and mentally abused me while she was alive. No, thank you, I will not give respect to someone who was so fucking toxic.

So, it seems, I still have parental issues.

(Interestingly, my brother and I fought heavily while mother was alive. When she passed, the fighting stopped. We’ve barely fought in the 8 years she’s been dead. With that being said, how he remembers her and how I remember her are two wildly different versions. Conversations get a bit terse when she comes up so I deflect and move on.)

Hair Today and Hair Tomorrow

It’s been over two years since I got my hair cut and about 18 months since I’d had a color.

I took myself to a local curly hair stylist (2 minute drive from the library) the other day to get my hair cut and discuss color. She brushed it out (far left image) and then cut very little off since I had hardly any dead ends. She cleaned up the layers, lightened the back with internal layering, straightened it out, and called it a day.

As for color, I’ve booked her in January. Even though I’ve been au natural with color since March 2024, I’m just not a fan of the gray. It’s not a cool pattern. If It were a cool pattern, I’d keep it and dye the rest. The gray is concentrated in the front with hardly any in the back. I’m just fucking over it.

I don’t know if I’m going to go for highlights, balyage, or a fun color. I’ve got some time to think about it.

The end goal is to have my hair long enough to go past my breasts. When straighted, the hair in the back is way past my bra strap but going over the 42DDs shortens it up a lot. Plus with the wave, who knows how long this will take.

I’m very low maintenance when it comes to my hair. I use fancy shampoo and conditioner, spray on Redken 25 benefit spray, and let it air dry as it takes too long to diffuse. When Katie straightened my hair out, it was the first time a dryer has been used on my head since March 2024.

I also only wash it once a week as my scalp doesn’t get greasy and the lack of product prolongs the cleanliness of my hair. But I will say, hair washing days are still a pain because it’s a fucking process.

The Blotter is No More

As you may have noticed, the bi-weekly police blotter has been haphazard for a bit now. Honestly, I forget to do it, and while it is a matter of just cutting and pasting from the online newspaper to the doc, it’s the formatting that kills it. The opens for the blotter issues are low compared to the regular newsletter.

This means AMUN has gone from having six issues a month (the blotter and lisa writes stuff) to two. AMUN the primary will remain bi-weekly.

And In Other Places

Speaking of newsletters, here is what Ms Scarlet and NGI are up to lately:

• Nerd Girl Industries Issue #25 In this issue: Weekend for Good update, giving myself a new title, and NGI book club. This week’s tech tip is: reverse image search.

• Ms Scarlet Writes a Newsleter Issue #3 In this issue: Changing my last name, writing updates, and romance spicy levels. This weeks wonderful thing is: Canadian candy.

Lastly, not not leastly

If you don’t meander to read NGI Presents, you’ll miss I was on the Bullish on Business podcast last week! It’s 50 minutes long, but, Rose gives me thoughtful questions and her introduction of me would make me blush if I were a blushing person. Enjoy!

Aero bars and Coffee Crisps,

lisa x