YOB: #15. Go To A Cave

By Beth

The weekend of August 7-8, 2009 was a busy one for the Robto Posse. Tea with scones, massage, fancy fast food and now, for your reading pleasure, the final chapter of that weekend...cave.

Really, on our list at number 15, it just said "cave." No details, locations or instructions. Just "cave." One could take this to mean we give in on an important issue, say, Equal Opportunity Public Toplessness (seriously, there's a group of women in Maine fighting for just that). Or it could mean building pillow/blanket caves all over Lara's house, not seeing the sunlight for days. Since we wrote the list long before the Year of the Birthday officially started, it would be entirely possible that we had forgotten by August what we meant by "cave." Luckily, we were only turning 30 and, for the most part, we still have all our faculties. We could remember that "cave" meant going on a guided tour of a cave. When we turn 40, however, it may be another story.

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YOB: #22. Dress Up For Fast Food

By Lara

At this point in the Year of the Birthday, I was looking for something easy for us to do. The year was half over, and we needed more check marks on the list. I warned Beth to bring dressy clothes with her when she came to visit. I figured, since she was coming to my house, I would just match whatever kind of dressy she picked. I was kind of hoping for bride's maid dressy, but I was prepared for anything.

Beth came to my house bearing stockings. Beth hates stockings, so I knew that she was committed to the whole idea. "Dress Up For Fast Food" was scheduled for after the massage. We came home to nap first. Getting a massage makes one sleepy. Trust me.

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YOB: A Short Break From Adventures

By Beth

I am taking a break this week from the usual telling about a recent Year of the Birthday adventure. I do hope you will forgive me. It's just...well...it's been one of those weeks here in good ol' PA. Work stuff, home stuff and my back hurts so much that I've already had to take a break from this entry. Plus, I just didn't feel the creativity flowing enough to write about a cave. I want to do the story justice and I feel I just can't this week. So, here is something I wrote last week which some of you may have seen on my Facebook page.

Lara called me Wednesday night after hitting a deer on her way home. We talked for a bit, she was concerned it wasn't dead. I hope I made her feel better amidst the police interruptions and confirming that the deer was actually dead. I was very glad to know that she was okay and that the Jeep was not terribly injured.

The thing about inspiration is that it comes on me at such odd times. The following day, Thursday, I found myself with about an hour to kill while sitting at my son's dress rehearsal for a show he's in this Friday. The first verse of a poem floated through my head and I ran with it.

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YOB: #27. Get A Massage

By Lara

I left my mother's house early last night in order to get home to write this article.  I collided with a deer about half a mile from her house. Apparently, I need to do a more thorough search of my co-workers cubicles in order to find the voodoo doll that I'm sure one of them is harboring in my image.

I'm physically fine. My jeep was drivable. I called the sheriff's office. They told me to go home. I did. They called me back regarding the license plate I had left in the road. Sigh. Now that I have filed a claim with my insurance, taken the jeep to the body shop, and gotten a rental car, I just have to work through my moderate animal-lover's guilt and rental car paranoia.

Now. Down to business. The next item on the Year of the Birthday list was "Get a Massage." I had a massage once before. My friend Jill had suggested that we do a spa day. She planned it. Included in the spa day package was: a massage, a facial, lunch, a manicure, a pedicure, and hair styling.

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YOB: #17. Try To Get Something Published: Why I Write

By Beth

I’ve been a “writer” most of my life. I’ve written short stories, poems, essays, research papers (but only for college) and have toyed with writing a full-length book for some time now. My earliest attempts at writing are all very similar. Girl is hurt/a servant/the outcast/the new girl; meets boy who is WAY out of her league (even though I didn’t know what “out of your league” meant back then); boy rescues girl and falls in love with girl; boy and girl live happily ever after. That was elementary school. In middle school I wrote mostly about boys I liked with the occasional poem thrown in. Interestingly enough, all the characters in my stories had names that started with the letter J. All of them, no exceptions. I don’t know why I did that, probably some deep psychological problem that will come out when I least expect it.

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