Jenaicklefritz’s Weblog

Salutations, my name is Jenaicklefritz. Actually it’s just Jenai, but my family has called me “Snicklefritz” my whole life, so I sometimes get confused. As a reluctant adult, I’ve accomplished old people things like earning a BA in English with an emphasis in Creative Writing, and a minor in Japanese Language. It’s a useful degree, if my goal is to sing Kumbaya at a lifelong picnic sponsored by Gandhi Catering.

So after that I got certified to teach English as a second or foreign language. Sounded like a good idea at the time. I’ve kicked around the idea of teaching abroad; although I’m not abroad now, the concept is never far from thought. But moving to another country is expensive. I know, been there before—which is why I’m waiting for my probationary certificate to teach high school English in Texas instead. True, it’s a stretch from my original plan, but this one comes with the promise of real money. I’m no stranger to want, nor ashamed to admit it.

I’m basically a overrated, educated transient, loafing in an apartment I can barely afford, working a part timer for a boss that promised me at least 45 hours a week (go figure the best he actually gives me is 25), wondering why I’m bothering to stay in the United States, collecting a bunch of validated dead trees, when I do so much better for myself flying by the seat of my pants (often abroad)—have you figured out where I’m going with this yet?

Some biographical page this is turning into! If I hadn’t mentioned this in the first two hundred and fifty some odd words of this prattle, I’m a writer. That is to say I think too much, dream too often, and probably DO too little. Which is not to say I’m inactive—but for me, it means proportionally speaking, I do far less than I plan for, as can be confirmed by the small pile of degrees and certification that haven’t been put to use. And before I’m flamed for making false accusations, these characteristics are not to be taken as a generalization for all writers—just a character notation I’ve made for myself after years of a non-invasive study of myself.

Let’s see, I guess since this is supposed to be biographical, I should start by giving you some autobiographical history.  Alright, let’s talk about the Ego: I’m the kind of girl who will sit on her sofa, pit bull in her lap, balancing her computer on her dog, while typing fantastic novels geared a the Harry Potter generation, mostly for the sole purpose of encouraging today’s youth to read—except I don’t own a pit bull anymore, much to my chagrin. So basically the coolest thing about me in that respect is voided—leaving me with Rowling envy. (For those of you who got my vague phallic joke for writers, I salute you.) But I’m still a critical idealist and rational dreamer, so maybe that will earn me some lost “cool” points.

I’m the type to think before I speak, but rarely before I type. I have my own definitions for everything, and though I am an open book, you still have to read me to figure anything out. (To any rich, single men out there: I’d be happy to discus my themes and motifs with you over a cup of milk tea or sushi.) Moving on: I’m quirky in thinking, kind in action, artistic in speech, and a lover of life and liberty. Take what you can from that. If you think I’m a granola in cargo camo-pants, you’d be not too far from the mark, except I have some fashion sense.

Now that the Ego is covered, let’s look at the Superego. Well, okay, the Superego is no easy thing to describe, so instead I’ll give you a quick tour of my past, which psychologically speaking should give some insight into the tricky Superego—in theory.

I was born in North Dakota, but only lived there for the first 17 days of my life. I’ve not returned since. And don’t call me a “North Dakotan.” (Isn’t there a law somewhere that states you have to live in a location for six months before you are a “resident?” And aren’t there bills or pay stubs involved for proof of residency?) Anyway, it was blizzarding the entire time I was there, so as far as I can tell, I’d made the right decision to get out of dodge. So, we (the mother and I) moved to Montana where I have spent the time between 17 days old and 19 years old growing up. I actually have no idea what my father was doing during the big move of 1984. (I have to add that I’d also been ping-ponged between Texas and Washington, depending on which family member I was freeloading on during my teenhood.)

After the age of 19, I settled for the first time in Cheney, Washington by myself (away from Mom, Dad, or other relatives) to go to Eastern Washington University. During the college years, I’ve worked with international students and the international departments every year. I even spent a year abroad. I took a year off between my Junior and Senior year to live in Osaka, Japan, and loved it. That would be where I gained my intimate knowledge of international moving expenses. Anyhow, I never really intended for that experience to be the last of my time in Japan, so far, I’ve not returned. Sucks. But the wheel in the sky and all that.

Anyway, I graduated from Uni. at the age of 23, and for the last couple years have been failing to find a real job… which brings us back to the glorious present. I feel like my life story is too short to make a really good biography, so now I will tell you a bunch of worthless information, so that I feel like I’m more important that I really am. Plus, this information could fill in for the Id portion of my biography…

As if it matters, my favorite colors are tropical and Washington, in no particular order. My favorite music is composed back in the 1980s, or for blockbuster movie scores, or anything heavy, in a carnival-creepy manner—I’m serious, anything post 1989 or not made for film, or unheard of outside of a biker bar, pool hall or indie club, or at a carnival, and I get lukewarm enjoyment out of it. Basically it’s best to just say I appreciate rock and roll and heavy metal from any era. But not with the same enthusiasm as 80’s pop, Danny Elfman, spa essentials, butt rock, etc. Eclectic’s a good word. Oh, and the only country I can bare to stand is Dolly Parton or Little Big Town. The rest is just cowjazz.

What else do people say on these biography thingies? My favorite food is Japanese/sea food, my favorite holiday involves fresh air and martinis, my favorite brands of clothing are expensive, and I have a shoe fetish. But not the kind you’re thinking of.

I hate celery, and LOVE peas. I will eat chocolate, but only if it is like 80% cocoa (or more) and the blackest-bittersweet you can come by. None of that sugary milk chocolate crap; give me a real woman’s treat. Um… I’m stretching for useless information now…

I’m not an only child. I have a younger brother whom many people mistaken as my elder. I have two loving parents (divorced) and one loving stepmother. I wouldn’t have my family any other way. Despite being from a divorced family, we all still spend holidays together. It’s not creepy, it’s evolved.