Last night continued to be a bit of a mix-up. Not only was my mother late, making our visit to Julie (who is in excellent form and spirit and doing wonderful things in physiotherapy) shorter than we would have liked, but Rick was late to my house. It seems that when I called Justin, he didn't give me quite the whole message and when Mom and I got back to my place, he still didn't give us the whole message. It might have cleared up some of the mess that later went on.

Rick called and told Justin that he'd be late to my house because he was going for drinks and wings with some people from work (this is good - socialising is important) and would not be back to my place until 7:30pm. What Justin told me was that Rick was going to be late but he'd be around 'sometime after 7'. So, without the rest of the message, Mom and I sat around waiting for Rick to show up. And sat. And sat. At 8pm, I finally went back into Justin's room and said, "Did Rick call again, by any chance?" Well, now Justin remembered to tell me that Rick was out with friends from work and I glowered. Mom and I waited for another ten minutes, and I told her that we should go eat. Afterall, she had a nearly two hour drive ahead of her, as well. So we did.

Periodically, through dinner, I got anxious about what Rick would say, or how angry he would be. Mom kept calming me down. She came back to the apartment with me, too, just to diffuse any tension that might well up. Good thing she did, because Rick was pissed with me when we returned at almost 10pm. He was going to leave and go home, and I told him that he might as well huffing my way to the kitchen to put the flowers he'd brought in a vase. And then I started to cry. In the other room, Mom did manage to cool some anger, and then, peacemaker that she is, she offered to drive Rick and I to the trade show so that we would be able to go afterall.

The Everything To Do With Sex Show was good. In an hour and a half, we saw every booth there, and laughed at silly things. We watched a bit of a lingerie fashion show, which had some highly unappealing styles in it. I don't 'get' the fluffy booby puff style. Especially in pink. How are fluffy, puffy, pink boobies remotely appealing? There were men standing near us who got all disturbed by a man wearing lingerie in the fashion show. Sure, transgendered people are perhaps not everyone's cup of tea, but come on... they weren't kidding when they said it was the EVERYthing To Do With Sex Show. They put the EVERY into everything. Oh they did, too. Wow.

We stopped at the Come As You Are booth where Megan was working and she was near the point of passing out. In six hours of working, she'd had one ten minute smoke break. Poor thing. She looked wiped out. Apparently, the firemen were stripping at the show, which I missed. Damn. And they are REAL firemen, not just guys in coveralls and hats. They might be the only strip show I'd want to see. What can I say? I admit it, firemen are... sexy. Something that was completely unsexy was seeing Alana, the obnoxious girl who irritated me for five years at Rocky Horror. There she was, dancing away on the stage, wearing the same horrible silver get-up she wore as a costume last year, thinking she's sexy. She made eyes at Rick and I more than once, probably mistaking our horrified stares for lusty leering. Yikes.

It ended up being a super good night with Rick, the show being fun, and then being waylaid back at my house. Yeah, baby, get it on. I think Rick is a good guy, and it bugs me when I think we're having problems, especially over stupid things. I'm really happy that Mom was there to smooth things out because he would have gone home, and I would have resented him. Don't sweat the small stuff, you know? He had better get a phone sometime soon though, cause I don't want this to happen again. Bleh, no sir.