November 4, 2019

Hen's Guide to Buying a Hen House!

My latest excuse for not writing: Buying a hen house!

It's true. I recently bid farewell to all my money and bought my first hen house. The experience was an all-consuming emotional roller coaster that truly gave me respect for adults. I don't know how they do it daily, but I applaud them. I must have done a respectable job pretending to be one, because I now hold keys to the private hen house of my dreams! (within my modest Hen budget)

After spending months consumed by adult terms like "mortgage," "interest rate," and "house," I decided to create The Hen's Guide to Buying a Hen House so you can learn and laugh from my stress and triumph.

July 23, 2019

Hens Say Dumb Things

Hens say dumb things. In the midst of all the noise we make with our beaks - some brilliant, lots ordinary - all of us have our gaffes where our brans disconnect just long enough for crazy to fly out. The current president says windmills cause cancer and grandma's racist friend wants minority groups to have their own states. These are extreme examples of spoken blunders, but some things (both examples) should never be said.

"Windmills cause cancer."

As a flying hen, I talk to a lot of people every day as part of my job, or just functioning as a social bird. Between passengers and coworkers, my beak can be exhausted by the end of the day. Somewhere in our social development, many of us have become uncomfortable with silence or short exchanges, so many hens fill that void with stupid comments.

June 8, 2019

What's Going on Tonight?

My flying endeavors recently took me to the party capital of the USA: Salt Lake City! The large Mormon population may disagree, but that was the plan reuniting with one of my college hen friends. For 25 hours, we could relive some carefree college partying in the shadow of the Mormon church. Fetch the reality cameras!

yeehaw! 

The plan was simple enough. We'd catch up and laugh for hours over a sassy dinner. Then we'd dance the night away with mason jars of liquor, just like in our prime. We may be a little older and a little wiser, with more bills and less energy, but we could still tear the night up and make the dance floor fall in love with us again, right? I'd also tested out the bar 4 years ago with Hens on Ice. We all had mason jars full of fun, so this reboot to SLC had the recipe for success.

May 3, 2019

What I Learned Off the Internet!

In my last article, I told you I left the Internet... briefly. Since my writing is sporadic and I sometimes lack creativity or inspiration as a writer, I promised to milk that big Hen event into 2 articles. As promised, here is what I learned from my social media break.

Things I Learned on a Social Media Break:

  • It was easier than expected. Once I posted that I was taking a break, I knew there was no turning back. I didn't set a time frame, but I aimed for at least a few days. I didn't dramatically delete my apps or accounts; I trusted I could use my own self control, along with the fear of Internet shaming if I came back too soon. To help, I did move my Facebook and Instagram apps to a less accessible folder on my phone to get them out of my face. Once this was done, I went on with my life. After accepting this was my new reality, I truly didn't miss social media. If I felt like sharing something or wanted to know how anyone was doing, I messaged them directly. I checked news directly from a news source (when I felt like it). When I came back a week later, I knew I could have stayed off longer, but everyone needed to know I was at the Cher concert.

April 15, 2019

Leaving the Internet.

You probably didn't notice since my posts are sporadic and misguided, but I took an official break from social media. Do not fear though! I continued to write while locked in a bunker and now I'm back in full force. Watch out, cluckers!

back with caution.

My volunteer Cackling Hen life may seem perfect and glamorous, but it's not. In spite of the photo shoots and under-appreciated writing, I'm a common hen just like you with real bird problems. As much as my non-profit (not by choice and not tax deductible) writing career depends on social media, I recently found myself with possible symptoms of mild depression. After declining invitations from dear friends for brunch and a beach weekend, both activities I thought I loved, I remembered the Zoloft commercials with that depressed cartoon egg. I thought of all those questions that commercial asked while that somber egg moped around. ...Yes, I do have trouble getting out of bed in the morning! ...Yes, I have lost interest in things I used to enjoy! Convinced I was becoming that despondent cartoon egg instead of just older and worn out by idiot passengers, I vowed to do something before I cracked.

April 2, 2019

Dying for Face Wash

Desperate for inspiration to prevent a Hen shutdown, I once again turned to the polls to ask readers what they wanted to read. As we've seen, the democratic process has mixed results (Brexit, Trump, American Idol), but I'm confident in my readers! Here goes another comeback, and if you're not cackling, you only have yourselves to blame.

democracy.

Life as a 30-something has led me on a journey for the proper face wash. Instead of worrying about the next big party, I'm worrying about my skin's appearance. My dermatologist put me on a specific face wash that's just specific enough to be annoying. Any variations I've tried with the same active ingredient have a weird consistency, weird side affects, or both. After a few too many trials that left my face burning or discolored, I've accepted that CVS is the only place I can find the face wash I need.

January 29, 2019

Things I Learned In Vienna

Guten tag! That is the extent of my German. But in spite of it, I chose to fly to a German-speaking country. Traveling broadens the mind, and my mind needed something after enduring another year of current American life. So I packed my bags and met some of my poorly-behaved friends in Austria. 

December 31, 2018

A Day as an On-Call Bird

Once again, I let the voters decide what they wanted to read for the next big hen article and I now see a trend. When given the choice, people want to read about the real pain and suffering of being a flight attendant. Thanks. At least the budget airline is a constant source of new clucking material.

Today's topic is a day in the life of a reserve flight attendant. Specifically, it's about my typical day as a reserve, since my little airline doesn't value my sanity as much as some airlines with newer contracts. But I know they're keeping me slightly unhinged for Hen material!

November 3, 2018

Post-Tour Life Hobbies!

The Hen is back clucking, and in the spirit of trying to salvage democracy in 2018, I asked YOU what you wanted to read! Voter turn out was better than expected (the last Hen poll received 0 votes), so I listened to my voters for which inspiration to follow. Better luck next lifetime, Buccaneers.

new hobbies!
Overwhelmingly, you voted to learn about my new hobbies now that I'm officially off the road full time and up in the air as a flying hen. I was inspired by catching up recently with a hen friend who asked if I've been able to try new things that I couldn't while on tour, such as cooking and finding purpose in life (his responses). Instead of saying "not really" and going back to sleep, I gave this a lot of thought and realized that maybe I have gained a new hobby or two after Hens on Ice.

August 23, 2018

My Double Axel Saga in My...

This is 30.
WARNING: I'm going to have real talk in this article about my age that I'll forever deny in future clucks. 

Since I turned 30 and began my midlife crisis fading away from show hen life, I have been clinging to recording my go-to, somewhat-challenging trick: the double axel. The video recording started on my 30th birthday, when I thought it would be cool to capture me doing a double axel on this
significant, ancient birthday, as well as on a battered hip. (30-year-old birds bruise easily.) That same week, I left my Hen on Ice show of 4 years and faced midlife confusion, rejection, and existential dread, with some ice skating in between.