Robin was just going about her business, checking Facebook and wasting time on the internet as she so often did.

When the email sailed into her inbox, she was prepared to delete it like she did with all emails from that domain. Thank god she actually read it.

TO: [undisclosed recipients]
FROM: webmaster@popsource.net
SUBJECT: Warm Up for This Year's Musical Artists Convention!
BODY:

Hey, rockers!

Looking forward to our annual Musical Artists Convention? This year, we'll be featuring panels from of our most talented musicians, as well as perfomances, and as always, events to provide those important networking opportunities for you, whether it be to just catch up with your old touring buddies, or make brand new connections!

As you know, our convention choses a location from the homes of some of our members each year. The Summer 2009 Musical Artists Convention will be held in the picturesque town of Fandom, MD, and hosted by none other than Robin Sherbatsky, or as you might all know her, ROBIN SPARKLES!

Looking forward to seeing you all there!

Robin's, "WHAT?" could likely be heard across the island.

Followed by "THEY SPELLED MY NAME WRONG!"

[for he who will likely come running to laugh]

Robin, truth be told, did not exactly mind being a dog. She didn't have to work, and she could lie around all day, and she got to play with the real dogs more than she usually did. It kind of did not suck.

That being said, it wasn't an unwelcome surprise when she stretched on her bed as she woke on Wednesday morning and found that her skin was smooth and legs were long again. (And she was naked, as per usual.)

She shook her head at the staring dogs, retrieved one of Benton's shirts, and started for the bathroom to brush her teeth. It was necessary.

[establishy unless the bf wants to ping in!]

It had happened again.

Robin had been at home, lounging in front of the TV and drinking in her fill of amazingly bad reality TV one moment.

The next, she was still lounging in front of the TV, but she was a lot fuzzier, and the dogs were looking at her differently.

And when she opened her mouth, she barked.

Rocky was the most disturbed, honestly. Poor guy hadn't ever seen this before, and so he was anxiously sniffing at her before finally settling against her side, still seeming a little worried.

Robin, meanwhile, rest her head on her paws with a doggie sigh.

['stablishy, unless you live there and wanna ping in omg.]

Given the events of the past week, Robin hadn't wanted to talk when she'd finally gotten herself home and into bed last night. She'd, instead, quietly cuddled and clung to her boyfriend and dogs.

And really, she was doing her best to continue that trend, even if she needed a little assisstance, which came in the form of Popcorn, Peanut and Rocky dutifully following her to the bathroom, the kitchen, and around the apartment before she just gave up and crawled back into bed. The puppies flung themselves back on said bed, the bigger ones lying at the foot.

"We should get a ninth one," she decided, cuddling closer to the other non-canine.

[for he who I just modded in the bed. THAT'S RIGHT, YOU LIKE IT.]

Someone had turned twenty-nine earlier in the month. Unfortunately, someone had also been a zombie at the time.

Someone else was turning forty-seven the next day, when his girlfriend would be at work with zombies.

It was almost like a theme!

In any case, there were two birthdays being celebrated tonight, and Robin had even slaved away over a hot stove to make a cake-- or, you know, spent like ten minutes throwing it together and then awhile getting annoyed at frosting it. And she'd dressed up!

Well. Sort of.

She was wearing a pair of low-slung pajama pants and a tank top. Look, Benton had impressively low standards, and she was going to take advantage of them.

And now she was just cuddling with the dogs and trying to teach Rocky to shake hands. It wasn't really working.

[for the birthday booooy.]

Robin had not unpacked anything that wasn't vitally important (like, you know, things that weren't her hairdryer or toothbrush. The rest could live in the suitcases until she or Benton got tired of looking at it, she'd decided.)

She'd been a little busy catching up with those who'd spent the week in Fandom. Which was why she was lying on the couch with Sprinkles lying on her legs, both puppies on her stomach, Peanut tucked behind her head on the arm of the couch, and Pickles, Reeses, Dorito and Dief on the floor beside her.

She didn't really want to move, anyway.

[for the dogs and the guy she is NOT engaged to, omfg.]

Robin had said said some words she hadn't really anticipated saying, ever. And she wasn't scared.

(That was the Scotch, which Robin would argue was her motivation, except she wasn't nearly drunk enough for giggles and silliness to be the whole reason.)

She'd insisted on going back to their room, because she did want to wear something hot, even if it wasn't white. (It was new, though, and between her old groom, and his borrowed blue sock in her hand, she was covered.) And the thought occurred to call Lily, or Marshall, or Wade or Nate. But right now, she didn't really want anyone to snap her back to reality.

"This is way classier than the place where Lily and Marshall tried to elope," she told him as they found the chapel and were given pens for the paperwork.

[NFB, and only for the groom, please!]

Robin was dating an old guy. An old guy, more notably, who got up way earlier than her and did more on a daily basis than she did. As such, he had totally retired early when Robin decided to stay up and watch classic football games on cable instead.

She did him a solid and took the dogs out, and her night was relatively boring until Rocky came sleepily padding out of the bedroom, whining. She cuddled him as she finished off the last of her glass of wine, and put him over with the other boys, where he immediately curled up on top of Dorito's leg.

This was her life now. Might as well get married, if she wasn't going to be able to have sex and was going to be reduced to a pajama-wearing, couch-dwelling TV-watcher. Though there was the cruise. She'd pack for that tomorrow.

For now, though, she just got ready for bed and slipped in beside Benton, and cuddled up against him. "You awake, babe?"

[TOTES TECHNICALLY SATURDAY MORNING. YOU KNOW WHAT THAT MEANS, BOW-CHICKA-WOW. And as such, NFB, since post-radio!]

Robin arrived home in something of a mood today. Given how tired they'd both been from the weekend and work yesterday, she and Benton hadn't had any of the fun naked perks of being in a relationship in a couple days.

Don't worry. Robin intended to amend that.

"Benton?" she called, closing the door behind her and scritching the dogs' ears absently when they came to greet her.

[MWAHAHAHAHHAA. For her partner in failure.]

Robin had staunchly refused to tell her boyfriend where, exactly, she was taking them, though she'd rejected several of his guesses as being, in her words, 'sappy and idiotic.'

When they got close enough, she'd actually produced a blindfold, and insisted he wear it while she parked the car. She led him in by the arm, grateful that it was totally empty -- the manager had been kind of sketchy -- and asked, "Okay, before I de-blindfold you, where do you think we are?"

[for her valentine omggggggggg]

When Robin woke, the first thing she was aware of was the cottonmouth.

The second thing was that she was lying on the floor next to her bedroom door. Why? Because she was barricaded in there. By her boyfriend. Who had ARRESTED HER.

...for being a pot-smoking, peace-loving hippie. What the fucking fuck.

There was only one thing to do.

"...Benton?" she called hoarsely through the door. "Benton, I need to go to work."

[for he who ARRESTED HER.]

When Robin rose, early Saturday morning, she first found her way outside (in a bikini top and a skirt, as she decided it was too cold to go topless sad for her neighbors, though) to greet the sun, and experience the morning.

When she came back in, she immediately located her stash and lit up a joint. That done, she located her bongos (of course she had bongos) and began to play a rhythmic beat, experiencing every sound anew.

Life was beautiful.

[for the boyfriend omg, and yes, Robin is vacation!Robin.]

Robin was utterly and completely delighted when she rolled over and discovered no fugly-ass hat on her head or Benton's this morning. God, the island was weird.

However, her conversation with Wade the night before had her waking up a little more, since now she had a good idea of why certain parties had been acting weirdly. She cuddled up to said certain party, attempting to be, you know, generally adorable to minimize the impact when he woke up and they inevitably had to Talk About It.

[for the elderly.]

Robin's 'I did something bad' sense was tingling.

Or maybe she was just PMSing or something.

Either way, she was bored tonight, and had resorted to starting to cook and then getting bored of that and ordering pizza instead. Rocky and Popcorn had trailed around on her heels as she'd made herself a drink, and then settled on the couch with it to watch TV while she waited for Benton to come home.

"No, young man. Not for you," she told Rocky as he climbed up her front and sniffed at her drink. "Not yet, anyway."

[for the man in the sexy Mountie coat. Omg, have you guys SEEN the winter uniform? nghhhh.]

Robin...was in a bit of a pickle.

Okay, that was putting it lightly.

"Try yoga!" everyone said. "It makes you limber!" And Robin felt she was already plenty limber, thank you, so she had bypassed the easier exercises and gone for the most interesting looking ones.

(Okay, let's be honest: the ones that looked like they could benefit her dirtily.)

Which was how she came to be trapped in this position. Robin was stuck on the floor with one long leg looped around her neck, her head ducked, and her hands braced on the floor to keep herself from falling over. It didn't hurt, exactly, though she expected it might later. It was just awkward as hell.

Whatever. She'd just figure out how to fix it.

"And just transition into downward-facing dog," said the annoyingly calm accented voice on her television.

"Shut up, you stupid cow," Robin told her as Popcorn came over to investigate, and then chose to sit on one of her hands.

Of course.

[for the dude. I have a friend who did this to herself the other day, and have gotten myself similarly stuck. Oh, the joys of being a former dancer omg.]

When Robin sneaked into her apartment, she was glad that it didn't look like her boyfriend was home. That gave her time to hustle the wriggling bundle in her arms inside. After letting him meet the others (and holy crap, the new puppy and Popcorn were adorable together) minus Dief, who she assumed was out with Benton, she situated him in their room with a ticking clock and made sure he nodded off.

It would kind of ruin the surprise if he was crying or something, after all.

She snagged her other, wrapped gifts for her boyfriend and carefully shut the door before returning to the living room. And if she winced a little when her right hip came into contact with anything, well...shut up.

[for the ghost of Canadian Christmas present omg.]

Robin was only in New York for a couple days, really, and it was mostly to make sure things were cool with Ted (which they were) and to give Benton a reason she needed to go out of town for a few days, because he couldn't know the real one.

In any case, when she slid into the booth at MacLaren's, she was met with a "It's freezing out there! Where's your coat?" from Ted.

It's like they never learned.

"Pff. Ted. I'm Canadian. I don't need a coat. This kind of weather is nothing for me."

And Marshall backed her up with, "Yeah, this is like a spring day back in Minnesota, if it weren't for all the taxis, and skyscrapers, and stuff."

Robin privately thought Minnesota was kind of like Canada Junior.

The conversation turned to Ted's sister -- who, frankly, Robin adored -- and his fear that Barney was going to have sex with her. Regardless of whether he was actually in town or not.

And when Heather arrived, Robin happily pulled her into the booth beside her, and the topic of Canada and Minnesota was forgotten. For awhile, anyway.

( and we shall have the Walleye Saloon and the Hoser Hut )

[...I was bored and I love this ep. NFB, NFI, OOC welcome, and stolen almost entirely from 4.11, Little Minnesota, with some small additions from me.]

Robin was packing -- or at least attempting to -- for her trip to New York. And okay, she may have fibbed a bit, since the reason she was driving up had less to do with her friends (though she'd be seeing them too) and more to do with getting Fraser's Christmas present.

In any case, she still had to pack for a couple days, which was why a small, half-packed case was on the floor beside her, and Robin was dragging various articles of clothing across the bed for Popcorn to chase. "That's right, you show that sock who's boss."

[for the mountiefriend omg.]