I spy me

I have a website for my music studio. It is rinky, but serves it's purpose. There is a sitemeter on it, just like there is on my blog. I like to know who is stopping by and how they found me.

The thing about my studio website is that you find it by Googling my name. Enter my name, and it's the first item up for bid.

Scanning through the sitemeter information this morning, I found that there are people in cities I didn't know I knew people in Googling me. My maiden name is not that common, and if you Google it, the only hits are actually me, so I'm thinking they aren't looking for someone else.

Then I see cities where people who used to be my friends live.

And I wonder what they are doing, still looking for me. Still thinking about me. Having cut me out of their lives, why search? What exactly is it you are looking for?

Do you wonder if I'm happy? Do you wonder if I remarried? Do you wonder if I finally got to become a mother?

Or is it the opposite? Do you wonder if I'm miserable? Do you wonder if I'm alone? Do you wonder if without you in my life I just can't stand to go on living?

Strange.

I Google old friends who I lost contact with occasionally. There is one person from high school I would really like to reconnect with (Matthew Everett, I'm talking to you), and there are people who fit into a certain era of life who I think about every now and then.

But I don't hunt down people on the other side of burned bridges. Curious or not, I chose to be on the other side of the ravine when that pathway was torched. It safer here for me.

Pretty soon, Deep South Moms will launch. It's the newest and of course most fabulous, addition to the Silicon Valley Moms Blogs group. You can find me there. You can find the real me with real names there. You, and all those random people from my past who entertain themselves by Googling me. You, all those random people, and Wife #1 and her family.

I have such a vast and varied fan club.

Seriously though. Anonymity is overrated. I've already learned lessons about not writing anything here that I wouldn't actually say out loud.

You can find the real me, the real Guy, and the real Bird, over at Deep South Moms. If you dare.