Memory brushes the same years

            There seem to be a couple of hundred people who read my posts on a daily basis.  I suspect some of those blog stats come from all the preschool teachers Googling lyrics to a certain song about driving around town in a bus all day.  And some come from people looking for one of the other two Emily Rosenbaums, some twit on a reality TV show and a considerably more serious one who teaches at F*rdham University and has the misfortune of sharing her name with the two of us blockheads. 

            There do seem to be, however, a group of you who actually come back on a regular basis to read what I have to say here.  Some of you are bloggers who I have met online.  But many, many others are people I know from the actual, three-dimensional world. 

            We have moved a lot, J and I.  Each place we live, we meet more people and add them to our group of friends.  Now, as I update our contact list to prepare for the baby announcements, I realize that we know people with zip codes starting in everything but an 8, not to mention the international post codes.  I was thinking of adding John McCain to our baby announcement list, just to have an 8 code, but I couldn’t decide which house to send it to.

            And some of these friends from over the years read my blog.  People in North Carolina and Illinois.  People in London and Columbus.  People in Salem and the Upper Whatever Side and the far outskirts of Beverly Hills.  Stateless people in the District of Columbia.

            These are people who have known me when I was a teenager, through my twenties, into my thirties.  They know my kids’ real names, but they get confused sometimes because they are so used to reading my blog.  They are married and single and gay and straight and even from different political parties.

            And then there are the relatives.  Not mine (I don’t think, but who knows), but my husband’s.  There are a lot of Rosenbaum relatives out there, and one by one, they have started reading.  They may or may not comment on the blog, but now and then I get an email from them speaking to something I have written.

            So, to all of you – the friends, the relatives, the former colleagues, the people stalking me from afar – thank you.  Thank you for caring about us and our family.  Thank you for supporting me.  I love that you read my words, and I hope you will drop me a line to tell me that you are there and have been checking in.

            And, if you know anyone with an 8 zip code, send ‘em my way.  

18 responses to “Memory brushes the same years

  1. Hiya! I stalk from afar, over here in the “3” zip. I love your writing and I love the things about us that are the same and the things that are different.

    I am from AZ and still have relatives there. If you want to send my aunt a birth announcement I’ll give you her address. Heh. (Nice dig on McCain there, btw…*wink*)

  2. Ahem. I have a zip code starting with 8. I don’t WANT it but I have it.

  3. Now see I get freaked out thinking that people who really know me read my blog. I much prefer the virtual stranger looking in. Does that make me a weirdo?

  4. I’m here!! Yours is one of the first blogs I read when I open up my google reader. I love what you have to say. My zip starts with a 4, though. Sorry bout that.

  5. wow. there are very few people that I know in real like who read my blog. by my own design. I’m not entirely sure why I feel more comfortable that way, although now that my inlaws have discovered it I’m thinking perhaps I should let me family on on it, as well. i dunno.

  6. I read your blog everyday! And I don’t read that many blogs at all.

  7. Life (ie. all five of us at schools now one way or the other) has gotten in the way of writing my blog and reading others. However, I keep reading yours…

  8. I’m an 8! And you wouldn’t even have to choose from among 9 houses. (wait, let me ask my accountant…)

  9. I’m one of those virtual stalkers from afar. I can’t recall how I found my way here, but I think it was around the time you were moving, and I could relate since I made an international move last year. I check in often because your writing is honest and thoughtful. Thank you for sharing.

    My postal code starts with a “2”, so I can’t help. My last one started with an “M” – once you’ve finished with numbers, perhaps you can start an alphabetical collection!

  10. ah, sister. i’m one of the 1 dimensional lurker types, but i promise i’ll always clean up after myself and stand solidly in your cheering section.

  11. Hi Emily, I can’t believe how well you have taken to this blog thing. It is truly inspiring to read your writing and hear your thoughts. Now what was that remark at the first OWG meeting “Blog? What is a blog?” Like duck to water! Hoping that you and your family are all well on the other side of that big pond.

  12. No 8 here 🙂 But, I do read almost every day. But, you probably know that already.

  13. Emily,
    I think it is brave of you to continue with this public blog even though you are running from something. (I realize that I’m suggesting that you have a criminal record, but I find the allure of romanticizing your outlaw blogger status simply irresistible. But if I got that wrong and you are not on the lam but have simply moved from place to place for perfectly innocent reasons, please accept my profuse apologies.)
    It is no wonder you get repeat readers. You do a great job of blending the personal and public in your writing.

  14. I lived in an 8 for several years. I seem to have settled in the 0 zone now.

    I can’t tear myself away from your blog. I read daily, though I comment rarely.

  15. You know I’m here, although my postcode will be no use to you whatsoever!

  16. You are very brave. I live in fear that my family or friends will find my blog. But I don’t care if my blog-friends (even the ones I’m in touch with personally) read it.

    I know. It makes no sense.

  17. Sometimes it’s really that simple, isn’t it? I feel a little stupid for not thinking of this myself/earlier, though.