Cosmopolitan (part I)

My sister recently sent me a drink on Facebook - a Cosmopolitan. Can't say I've ever had this drink, but it made me curious as I was a little fuzzy to what the word actually means by definition.

Here goes: multicultural, international, worldwide, global, worldly-wise, well travelled, experienced, unprovincial, cultivated, cultured, sophisticated, suave, urbane, glamorous, fashionable; jet-setting, cool, hip, stylish.

I think the first part of this being international is really true - not so much the rest of it, although officially I have now been to the Opera three times, though it's not my favorite.

But how does it happen that a poor girl from rural Nevada has had the chance to see some of the corners of the earth? As her mother says, "Jen, people in our family just don't do that." Well, mom, I guess people in our family do now, especially when HE has got the whole world in His hands.

I grew up in a poor Catholic family. My parents worked really really hard to provide for 5 kids. Originally it was 4 kids, and along came Jeremy. It was tough sometimes but somehow my parents managed. Both my parents worked but my mom found a way to still try and be a part of our lives by doing something she loved, which was watching children. It started in our house and it grew -- actually exploded -- and she opened a daycare business while I was in Junior High.

I had my first job when I was 12 years old. I loved to work and earn money for myself so I could buy things I wanted. It was a good feeling but it also got me in trouble. As a child, you don't realize what's happening but for a number of reasons (of which I won't go into detail with you here), I became an angry, rebellious child and started to distance myself from my family. It started slowly as I'd find ways to get out of family gatherings and hang out with my friends. Besides seeing my grandma, I hated going to my grandparents and cousins house in po-dunk Silver Springs, Nevada. I found ways to enjoy it but mostly it just sucked. If Carson wasn't rural enough, Silver Springs was creepy, creepy rural.

I became quite familiar with partying and always having boyfriends. Somehow I was gaining a sense of satisfaction in it all. I loved my friends and I was not afraid to do or try anything (I never was introduced to hard drugs, thank God, or who knows what would have happened). Excitement. Adventure. Fun. I've always been one who enjoys the thrill of things. But let me just tell you that after four years, the thrill was gone.

I remember being around 16 years old and sitting on my best friends balcony, completely wasted, and looking up to the stars in the sky. As a Catholic, I had no doubt God existed. He just wasn't real in my life and being a Catholic was just something handed down to me by my family, sort of like an heirloom or something. I remember my parents had this huge black Bible and it sat under the bed, mainly because it was old and they probably wanted to preserve it, but also because it was so "holy" no one could read it. All of it seemed like a bunch of wasted time to me. Actually, quite ridiculous really. Even though I went every Sunday with my parents to mass, I would always try and get out of it. It rarely worked so I made the most of it.

I'll never forget one Sunday when our family sat up in the balcony at St. Theresa's. My sister and I sat alone, maybe with a few friends? I don't remember. Anyways, there were some guys from high school sitting a few rows in front of us from my class. They didn't realize that my parents were sitting with my brothers and sisters in the back of the balcony. The guys thought they'd be funny or cute or something and they mooned us -- but not just us -- my parents too. Needless to say, being a Catholic didn't mean much for most of us kids in Carson.......

Little did I know that my life was going to change...and with it dreams and a heart as big as the ocean for a big world full of other cultures and people.....This is my cosmopolitan story. (to be continued....)