We sorta need your help.

OK.

So, we could really use your help.

Our pretty li'l house in the Dominican Republic, aka Casa Paraíso, doesn't have an address.

Nobody there does, really.

There may be a number of a shack you can count on, but really, it's a case of; turn left at the donkey, right at the mango tree and follow through until you get to the beach.

Well, ours is a little easier to find than that, but if I told you where to turn, you'd stalk me.

I am old enough, and bitchy enough now, that I don't have stalkers anymore.

No need for a resurgence.

It's been a cool 12 years since my last creepy person to give a restraining order to.

Anyway.

The houses, shacks or what-have-you, don't have streets or addresses, just names.

We need to name our villa!!

We've thrown a few things around and possibly it will stay as Casa Paraíso, but we're just not settled on it.

Do you think you could help us?

It would definitely start with Villa, but the adjective is what we need.

But for all you who don't speak Spanish, you can just say ________ house.

Or _______ villa.

Or if you speak Spanish, Villa _______.

We're not picky.

Just needy.

Whad'dya say?

The chosen one won't win anything.

Just bragging rights.

And maybe a your picture in my blog if you want.

But keep in mind, that everyone who gets mentioned here gets an alias, so as not to scare away my private friends who would never, ever, never-ever-ever want their name associated with my blog.

Or perhaps if you're an attention whore narcissist, you'll WANT your name here and maybe an option to promote your own blog or some other fancy kinda thing you do.

I'm cool with that.

If you are.

So, once we have our name, it will be painted on our massive wall Papi is planning on building.

Our mansion neighbour has one, so in order to keep up with the Jones' we have to have one too.

Papi's truly a man.

Bigger, better, faster, more.

Now I'm off to brave the weather to have my ritualistic Thursday Lunch with my mother.

We've been doing this ever since I was hurt by not being invited to Easter.

This is way better than having to hang out with Mr. Homophobia and know that I'm not welcome.

Every Thursday, we get to have an hour together of getting to know each other as adults.

It's nice.

And I'm grateful.

i am winning in all my relationships