I've never imagined anchoring in Anaheim, CA. I daydreamed of big cities, like NYC. I fantasized the excitement of Seattle. My favorite memories of being single was in the rousing days of San Francisco. I struggled the first year of my marriage wondering if being a housewife in Orange County was were I really wanted to be. I mean, to me it sounded so boring. Did I want to pick up with Scott and leave our families, jobs and comfort for my own selfish desires? Of course I love my life and my husband, but a part of me still held on to what I believed was a perfect life. I grew up a bit, my priorities changed, and that appetite I had just became a warm recollection. I went through the common stages of mourning when I dealt with this- I denied it, I was angry, resentful, I bargained for a better location, was depressed and finally accepted. After looking back at that year, I feel so silly. The place I thought was stimulating all along was here. It doesn't have speeding taxi's, thick smog, or miles of city lights. It actually has nothing I would have chosen for myself. And it's the most thrilling time of my life.