Don’t Mess with My Man.

I haven’t been home for the last two Valentine’s Days, and considering that I’ve only had a Valentine for four instances of the holiday in my twenty-eight years of living, that’s not painting the reddest of roses for the romantic holiday season.

So this year, next week! I want to finally do something. The “something” has yet to be determined (and has less than seven days to be formed), but at least I know that should I feel the urge to dress myself in I HEART BILL apparel, all I need to do is ring up the good merchandisers of True Blood for an all-appropriate tee that one can only hope lasts longer than my tolerance for the actual show:

There. Maybe I will treat Valentine’s like Halloween (or Comic-Con or Bay to Breakers) and dress up like a vampire fiction-obsessed teen for a candlelit dinner.

P.S. My love’s name is Bill. He makes art. Not vampires.

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