I let the seven year mark and our wedding anniversary go by without the usual tale of how I came to be here.

I used to think of living here as a temporary stop. I'd experience Europe, make a little cash, and back to the States we'd go to pick up life where I left it.

With each trip back home, the more I feel like a stranger. Aside from what I read in the national papers and see on the news, I haven't a clue about what's happening in the U.S. these days. And guess what? I don't even care. That might sound snotty, but I see it as progress.

Despite all my attempts otherwise, I've "ingeburgerd" (translation: intergrated). As Marcel said recently, this has become my station.

The first 21-years of my life prepared me for where I am now. I didn't happen here by accident. It was meant to be.

Seven years later, I'm still convinced of that.