So after the whole Earl thing, my husband decided to refer to me only as Princess Aliza, Lady Aliza and Duchess Aliza and said that it explained my noble (read: holier-than-thou, I’m right, you’re not, bossy) behavior. Not. Cool.

My friends and fans on Facebook on the other hand were confused because the current Earl of Medina is a British chap called Henry David Louis Mountbatten who probably doesn’t want to give the title back to my family. Especially since my Earl’s family basically gave it all up and went to establish what is now the Dominican Republic and left all the cool Spanish nobility stuff back in Spain (mostly). Le sigh. I wonder if Henry’s a distant cousin? Anyone have his mobile number?

As everyone knows, I don’t travel well do to my Ehlers Danlos but after building a family tree that went back to the 1600s thanks to Earl Agustin Franco de Medina, I discovered I was Dominican nobility too.

Yeah, it went to my head for a bit. I mean, I kinda wondered why there were streets named after my family in the Dominican Republic but since I can’t tell what’s north, south, west or south in the Dominican Republic when I visit…I hadn’t really given it much thought. Funny enough though Franco Bido St. intersects with Jerusalem St. How thoughtful of my ancestors.

I had been trying forever to dig up information about my late great-grandmother’s mother and given Spanish naming customs, I was given the last name Franco-Bido. But actually, the Franco-Bidos were so hoity toity that they didn’t follow Spanish naming customs and they went by more prestigious “Franco Bido” dropping their mother’s name most of the time.

So I found out via a 3rd to distant Turkish-Dominican cousin here in California (thanks to 23andMe.com) that my great-great-grandmother’s name was actually the very French Emilia Deschamps but Deschamps wasn’t passed on to her children born in the Dominican Republic since she married Dominican/Spanish nobility.

Emilia was no slouch herself. She was a poet. Her brothers Eugenio and Enrico were both writers and one was even Vice President of the Dominican Republic.

In fact, a Moroccan relative from Cueta was also Vice President of the Dominican Republic.

So how I’d end up all poor living in the ghetto that was Washington Heights? All the Franco money was divided up in the 1800s and nobody was thinking of me then. Seriously, people, think of your great-great-great-great-great-great-grandchildren when you invest your money!

And so here are all the places I have to visit. And we’re just talking about my MOTHER’S SIDE until I get my father to spit into a little tube.