New One Direction! The Good, the Bad and the Ugly

While Britney Spears is The Cackling Hen's favorite for many things, such as musical artist, performer and mom (don't tell mother hen), she is neither a boy nor a band. The Hen also loves (good) boy bands, and One Direction wins this category for me and millions of tween girls around the globe. Sorry, Britney!

I'm not a boy band.

The 5 Eurolads are back again with a new (covered) song and video! Here's a look at the good, the bad and the ugly.

Pecking Away the Glam Part I

Yes.

No.

It is my second year on the road with Hens on Ice. Aside from loving to perform as a show hen, the travel can be a major perk of the job. But like any job, there are good days and bad, pros and cons, coffee and decaf. When I returned from my European tour last year, a few too many people asked me, "How was your trip?" I wasn't backpacking across Europe; I was working! I realized some of my hen friends still didn't understand the bad, cons and decaf of it all. While I do enjoy my work and the places I've been, I also want to bust any myths or delusions that I'm galavanting from city to city in private jets with champagne. We're more of a tequila coup. Here are a few things that suck the glamour out of my life.

Tweets from Cher Part I

All went to hell when she found power button.

The Cackling Hen prides itself with being savvy in social media. I even wrote a guide to Twitter! In spite of this guide, it seems like not everyone has read it yet. Keeping up with endorsed celebrities, some stand out more than others on Twitter. Ellen DeGeneres makes me laugh and Snooki makes me wonder why I still follow her, but Cher takes the cake and eats it too. Her use of Twitter makes me wonder if she's really crazy or just has no concept of how to use Twitter semi-appropriately. Here are 5 select tweets from Cher. 

Bleeding Love

Someone shovel me.

After having a relatively mild winter last year on Hens on Ice's European tour, we've gotten the brunt of Old Man Winter this year stateside. I thought I was done with winter in 2004 when I moved from Colorado to Florida, where winter is any temperature below 60 degrees. Now that I have a traveling job, I have to bear places with real seasons. Life is hard.

Last year when it dipped below 60, I threw on layers and coats and told myself, "I'm in Europe." Even frostbite wouldn't stop me from taking pictures in Belgium while it was frozen. This year, I tried to tell myself the same thing, but I knew I was a liar. Knowing warm, sunny Florida is just a stone's throw away compared to last year, I've saved my whining only for when it's extremely cold. It's been extremely cold for two months now. "I hate winter" is my new "I'm in Europe."

DreErie.

Too big!

Our Hens on Ice tour keeps the roller coaster of worldly destinations going! After a recent day trip to peck at The Big Apple (see video!), I left full and have been digesting back in America's mid-sized cities. I've found that even the seemingly dull or scary cities have had something nice to offer. I imagined Huntsville, Alabama as cockroaches and hate crimes, but it turned out to have a gorgeous, duck-filled park downtown. I envisioned Hartford, Connecticut as gang violence and collapsed factories, but it had a vibrant downtown of sassy restaurants, European architecture and a large park. So, if even Tupelo, Mississippi proved a little something to offer, I changed my initial image of Erie, Pennsylvania before we arrived. My image of a polluted lake and dreary weather had to be wrong - I was ready for a lakefront beach stroll and sassy cafes. Here are some highlights from our stay in Erie.

I Resolve Not to Listen to the Ancient Mayans Again

Last year, I avoided the subject of New Year's resolutions by writing a more worldly piece on Britney Spears. I resolved that if we survived the 2012 apocalypse, I'd make some New Year's resolutions. Thanks for the false prediction, Mayans, because now I need to come up with some resolutions. So here we go - The Cackling Hen's first (and maybe last) official set of New Year's resolutions!

Everyone will love it.

• Write daily in my future best-selling novel. Most of you don't know that I am working on a revealing "tell all" about an undisclosed sport that will sell millions of copies. But when I say "working on," that really means I started it last summer (okay, late spring!) with gusto and haven't written a thing in six months. Sure, it may be following the same pattern of my previous failed book attempts, but this one has the most promise. I'm hoping my writing is at least better now than in my unfinished novel I wrote in 8th grade about Cubans in America on the run. 

Embarrassment Behind the Ice

How do I skate in this thing?

After letting a few days pass to regain my composure, self esteem and some extra feathers, I will share my most embarrassing accident to date. I realized I should capitalize off my suffering instead of suffering silently by myself. Thank God for the internet. My incident had no witnesses, but now the world can laugh at my expense. Go easy on me, I'm poor.

It all started as the usual scene between shows: me eating something and then trying to decide 30 minutes later if I'm still hungry and if I'd eaten enough to survive another show. After eating a mini pizza, I decided I needed more carbs before going into the show, where I'd play the head sergeant of the green army boy toys in addition to my usual roles. This is as close to participating in the army as I'll probably ever get, so I at least wanted my blood sugar to be up.

Cackling 'Til the World Ends

So, the world didn't end.

God's revenge.

The Mayans predicted the end of the world for December 21, 2012. Their calendar had been spot on up until now, so many people at least entertained the idea of our demise on that date. In days leading up to the 21st, each news article revealed more facts and opinions dismissing doomsday, but this potential apocalypse still grabbed (too much) attention. Why didn't any of these arguments discrediting the apocalypse come out any sooner than the week of the frenzy? At least the Mayans had more credibility than that Christian whack job (Harold Camping) who keeps picking random dates for the end of the world, who is wrong every time, but still gets media attention. I say the world will end on August 5, 2985 (my 1,000th birthday), will you listen to me?

Tupelo: Not Spanish for "Your Hair"

Real American. Real English.

As we travel weekly to a new city with Hens on Ice, I try to assimilate into the local culture. Last year's tour through Europe was a challenge in some ways, but easy in others. I avoided flashy clothes or anything with an American flag to blend in on the streets, and with my WASPy complexion, some locals even thought I was from there...until I opened my mouth. When I opened my mouth, no matter what country and what language they spoke, I was done assimilating. My accent was like an American flag sweater I couldn't take off.

I first thought this year's tour through much of the U.S. would be far easier to blend. I live in this country - consider me assimilated! I've had twenty...something years to learn and live. No menus in foreign languages or women asking me for directions in French this time. While Florida was easy since I live there, many of these southern cities have been worlds of their own. My parents never took me to the south to assimilate.

Warning: Not Funny, But There Are Pictures

Even The Cackling Hen takes cackle breaks. Usually, this silent hiatus is seen by me just not writing anything for three months (there's nothing funny about a cold, grey winter). Although I try to slip in the occasional pearl of wisdom between clucks, this Hen post aims to keep the cackles sparse because I have something more to say (and I'm just not feeling that funny!)

If you're still reading, this post contains 9,000 words in picture form (again, they won't make you cackle). We are in Biloxi, Mississippi this week, a town battered by Hurricane Katrina. When I first thought of Biloxi, I just pictured its waterfront casinos, but after doing a little research, I learned that Biloxi, much like New Orleans, was devastated by Katrina.