Day 269 = Resistance Bands + Chick Schtick

Being out of town for 5 days really gets me out of my groove. I hate when that happens. So while I'm going to use my resistance bands yet again tonight, at least I am on the high that performing at Chick Schtick gave me.

It went really well for being my first one. I'm still making friends there, so no need for any of my real friends to actually show up. I gave everyone late notice, but even those who claim to want to see me have not even showed up. Maybe I'm not such a good friend after all. Maybe I'm more of a loner than I think I am.

I was up first, and I got a lot of laughs. I told my doll house joke and the one about the songs on my ipod and the one about the tramp stamp. I was very pleased with my set. I wore what I wore to work today, which was a white button-down shirt with 3/4-inch sleeves and a black skirt and black boots. I thought about wearing my FMPs, in fact, I had them in my car. But I just stuck with the killer boots.

So here I am, 8 weeks into reuniting with my hobby of stand-up comedy after an 18-month hiatus and 6 years since the first time I ever gave it a try, and this was like a real show that wasn't open mic. Now what?

Day 268 = Resistance Bands + Joke Bombs

I flew back to Austin today and decided that I will be throwing another Christmas party, but this time, it's going to include men. Normally, my parties are usually girls-only events, but one reason I bought my house is because of its great floorplan that is conducive to partying. Why not let guys enjoy it, too?

I worked on my jokes for tonight at Cap City open mic while I was on the plane. I had a lot I wanted to try out from Thanksgiving. Too bad they bombed tonight. They weren't really fleshed out. I had thought about doing some of my set for tomorrow night's Chick Schtick, but I didn't want to be redundant.

Then I came home and worked out with resistance bands and went to bed. Unfunny.

Day 267 = Resistance Bands + The Paper People

Normally, a Saturday morning would begin with me running a lot of miles with my running group. But today I'm in Arkansas, and when I travel here, my routine just goes out the window. And honestly, I'm absolutely tired and worn out from the holiday. I hate letting go of my routine, but this trip is different, and I'm somehow OK with that.

Today, Mom and I had lunch with one of her oldest friends and her goddaughter, Margie and Anna, respectively. Anna and I have been friends for years. Mom and dad and Margie and Steve (her husband) used to hang out on the lake all the time. One time they were driving to the lake, and Margie said to my mom, "Carol, have you ever noticed how many people named Paper live on this road?"

So I'm just going to enjoy hanging out at home with family today and using my resistance bands later. Those things are so easy to pack.

Day 266 = Gym + Jukeboxes

For my brother's 31st birthday this year, I gave him a membership to a gym. No, I wasn't trying to send any message. This is what he wanted. For today's workout, he said he'd take me to his gym so we could work out "together."

My mom took me to his new house, and he gave big sis the obligatory tour. Jason now has two jukeboxes in his living room. One is his; the other is mine. And somehow, some way, I will get that jukebox back to Austin. It's a 1961 Seeburg, and it played music at my dad's office. The one that Jason is keeping is a lot cooler, but it's bigger and heavier, and it's the one that was in our house. The one in this photo is the one that will be in my living room at some point. Then I'll have to find someone to fix it. And then will be the fun task of filling it with records. Maybe I'll host a sock hop. With Jell-O shots.

At the gym, I made the rounds. Working out with Regan has trained me well. Jason and I didn't do much working out together, but he did spot me at one point. Thanks, bro.

Day 265 = Walking + Thanksgiving

My uncle arrived this morning, earlier than we expected, and just before I was heading out for a walk. He's a retired municipal judge, and I'm his "favorite niece (only niece)."

My long walk today included strolling around mom's neigborhood and wandering through all the suburban streets. I walked about 4 miles. I think a good walk is a good way to mix up the workouts. It gives me time to focus on other thoughts that I don't think of when I'm running. Because when I'm running, I'm thinking about my technique or my breathing or my time or if something is hurting and how I need to adjust and compensate for that. But walking is easy and still better than sitting on the couch. You get to take in more, like smells and the rustling leaves. I walked past a bunch of guys hanging out in a garage and deep-frying a turkey. Speaking of that, I know what's cooking at home, so this walk is, like, preventative.

Today is Thanksgiving, and usually we go around the table holding hands and saying what we're thankful for. I'm a sensitive and compassionate person, but this is just too much cheese for me. I'm thankful for my family and friends. I really am. I have a lot to be thankful for.

Day 264 = Running + Electric Cowboy

One day before Thanksgiving and what does one do in North Little Rock, Arkansas? I ran 3 miles today, so I got that goin' for me.

Of course, a visit to Arkansas isn't complete without a trip to the local Wal-Mart. I was in the ice cream aisle and out of nowhere, this skinny redneck guy blurts out in a prime Arkansas accent, "I cain't find anything in this store. She gave me the caysh, but where the hell is the horse-raydeesh?"

By the way he was dressed, something told me this wasn't his first time in a Wal-Mart.

After a long day of cooking and prepping for tomorrow's meal, my cousin and I went to the Electric Cowboy to hear her boyfriend's band. I've never been to this honkytonk. In fact, I'd never set foot in a honkytonk until I moved to Texas, where they are considerably better yet there are a lot of places just like Electric Cowboy. But none of them have a sequined-covered saddle hanging from the ceiling.

Day 263 = Running + My Hometown

I flew into my hometown of Little Rock, Arkansas, this morning for the holiday week. I really don't need to get into the details of the flight other than you can stir a baby (not shake it) to shut it up on a plane. Mom says that's OK. But never shake a baby.

So let me get right to my 263rd workout, which was a 4-mile run. Mom and I drove over to Jim and Pat's house, family friends. And they are like family. Mom and Pat have been BFFs for almost 40 years. Her son, Michael, and I were born on the same day; he's one hour older than me. We grew up having birthday parties together, and his sister Courtney was a bridesmaid in my wedding years ago. Now she has a 4-year-old, Tyler, who when he grows up he wants to be a married person.

When I was married 10 years ago, my ex and I lived in a house just down the street from Jim and Pat, so I walked in this neighborhood a lot. I didn't run back then because I didn't start running until I moved to Texas. But I'd walk my dog Ringo around the neigborhood.

So I started out running down Arlington to Crestwood and across North Hills and then left on Fairway and right on Bunker Hill Drive. I grew up in that house at 4601 Bunker Hill Drive. I ran by that house tonight. It still has the teal doors and window shades from the 1980s; both design elements were additions from my dad's ex-girlfriend who was an interior designer. I wondered if it still had the same carpet, which was mauve with a teal border. Yes. That was my house. I cringe now to think of that Boca Raton look inside a 1976 ranch house. I used to say that I'd buy that house if it was ever for sale again, assuming I'd still be living in Arkansas. It would be so pimp if I lived there.

When I was little, I think I had a couple of lemonade stands on that corner of Bunker Hill and Mt. Vernon. But one time, I had a jewelry stand where I tried to sell my grandmother's costume jewelry and tried to pass it off to my friends as real diamonds. They weren't that gullible, and I didn't make any money.

One time, I joined my friends Jennifer and Angie for a bike ride down the street to the corner of Fairway and Bunker Hill where there was a church and a big parking lot. I lied to my mom about where I'd been because I wasn't allowed to ride my bike that far. I was probably 6 or 7 years old. I got in sooo much trouble.

When I was 17, I had a little party at my house. At one point, my friend Michele went out to her car and came back in and said it had been stolen. We all went outside (I was filming it all with my camcorder) and found out that her car was not stolen but evidently had just rolled on down the hill, right into my neighbor's garage. There were bricks all over the hood of her car. She told her mom her car was sideswiped, and I think she believed it. I think Michele told her mom finally when she was in her 30s.

After my run, I had dinner with Mom, Jim, Pat, Courtney and Tyler, who showed me his bank that "poops money." And by pooping money, I mean the bank lost its bottom cover.