My life should be a reality TV show…

My life should be a reality TV show.

For real.

I cannot even begin to describe to you how bat-shit crazy it is living in what I call, The Crazy Cave.

There are four of us roommates, and we ALL get along so well, we might as well be the same person.  Jen and I are basically gay men trapped in straight women’s bodies, so living with gay men suits us just fine.

My favorite days in New York, have probably been sitting around in the living room with 500 fans blowing (because we have no air conditioning) and watching reality television in nothing but our underwear because it’s FREAKING HOT IN THIS CITY.  Watching reality television with four crazy people, gives it a heightened level of entertainment because we ALL have commentary to  add while the shows are on.

Picture Mystery Science Theater 3000… except gay… and in underwear… and wine.  If you can’t picture this… here are some visuals

Plus

Plus

And finally…

Our favorite reality shows are the following…

Real Housewives of New York

Real Housewives of New Jersey

Mob Wives (especially BIG ANG!)

The Bachelorette (We love Jef!)

The Kardashians

Mrs. Eastwood and Company

Ru Paul’s Drag U

Dance Moms

So you Think you can Dance

And there’s more…

Here’s a show that I wish was on television… The Real Housewives of South Boston.  Google it… your life will be better. 🙂

I don’t care what people think about the fact that I watch too much crap TV. For me, it’s escapism.  Some people waste their time on drugs to escape from the troubles of their everyday lives.  I use Reality TV and wine.

Sorry I’m not sorry! 🙂

So the other day, we discussed how we would have the BEST reality television if someone decided they wanted to film us.

Highlights of this show would include:

1. Jen/Shannon/Chetan/Chad singing everything we do.  We don’t talk… we just sing.  Not even joking about this.

2.  Chetan borrowing Shannon and Jen’s clothing every night to go out.

3. Shannon falling asleep face down on the floor because she couldn’t climb into her high bed one night

4.  Jen and Shannon playing piano and singing Amy Winehouse

5. Jen and Shannon talking about poop/farts/hemorrhoids

6. Chadd listening to gospel music in the mornings and singing at the top of his lungs.

7.  All four of us DROOLING over the men’s Olympic gymnastics team

8. Dancing to the song  “Let’s have a Kiki” at every gay rooftop party we go to.

9.  Chetan waking Jen up by humping her.

10.  Cleaning the house to Lady Gaga’s full catalog.

Here are our head shots:

Meet Jen: “Sorry I’m not sorry… Bye…”

Meet Chadd: “Praise him. GUUUUURRRRRRL PLEASE!”

Meet Chetan: “Let’s have a Kiki!!!!!”  (He looks better than me and Jen when he’s a chick. No joke.)

Meet Shannon: “Guys… I gotta fart.”

Just kidding… this is what I actually look like….

The tutu is part of my regular garb 🙂

Message me with ideas for the name of this TV show!

Love, crazy bitch and her roommates

Shan Halen

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Ugly Girl —> Funny Woman

Hello readers (if you’re out there)

I’m new to this whole blogging thing.  Wordpress has proven itself quite difficult.  Oh well… I’m posting aren’t I? I would like to welcome you to “Lady Business,” the blog that describes my life in a nut shell.  Yes, I am a musician, and yes, I will use this blog to update all of you on my musical life, BUT this blog is going to serve as my way of letting my fans, friends and family know what goes on inside this twisted little head of mine.  And so… here goes… I’m exposing my lady business for the world to see:

This whole blog came about when I walked into my office around 4:15 pm yesterday.  My boss (a queen bee, straight shooter, and lady business expert) was laughing hysterically to someone on the phone about an unflattering picture that had been posted of her on Facebook.  When she got off the phone she told me that a friend of hers posted this (supposedly) hideous photo of her on Facebook and had told her that she thought it was so great, she wanted to blow it up!

My boss was not having this… hence the hysterical phone call.

Long story short… we began talking about the whole notion of “I look better in my Facebook picture than I do in real life.”  We had an extremely loud and incredibly close conversations (full of laughs and giggles) about how we hope people aren’t disappointed when they meet us and we don’t quite look how they expected.   (Cough, cough: have you guys seen my album cover!?!?! I know my lady business don’t look that good every day!)

This is when I got real with my boss. Here is the story of The Ugly Girl who Turned into the Funny Woman

Once upon a time there was a girl born to a hippie mother and a Republican father.  No one knew that this strange little creature could come from two seemingly opposite people who just so happened to love each other dearly.  The hippie and the Republican already had a child with beautiful curly hair, olive skin and just the right amount of baby chubbiness.

Then came ME.

Shannon Rose Allen came to this world as a fat, round, cross-eyed, allergic-to-everything, weird, ugly little being.  I used to run around naked half the time in my youth because my mom told me that I could do “whatever I wanted” as long as it made me happy.  (Hippies at their finest)

When I was young (around 6 or 7) I can remember feeling that I was a little strange.  I had HUGE coke-bottle glasses, I had WAY too much energy, I was friends with boys (which apparently some parents told my mother they didn’t want their little angel boys playing with a GIRL! GASP! I suppose this was the 90s, but whatever… at age 6, I hardly think I had ulterior motives with boys…), I frequently got sick (my nose ways always running, and I said whatever was on my mind at the exact moment it popped in my brain.

I was ugly. I was weird.

How then, did this little ugly girl become a social butterfly?  It was simple: I was funny.

I have tapes from the first grade of my birthday party.  There were at least 10 girls there who all thought I was the funniest person they ever met.  I knew that I wasn’t one of those cute children, who all the little girls wanted to play with because my dresses were pretty and my hair was braided ever-so-delicately.  No.  I  preferred my brother’s hand-me-down jeans and my hair always looked like a rat’s nest.

From the moment we are born, we are taught that looks are important.  I’m not arguing this point… simply pointing out that I realized at a young age that I had to get people to like me in other ways than being a “cute kid.”

I feel as though this is an appropriate first post for my blog because it sums up who I am: a quirky, ugly, funny girl who is still uncomfortable with the fact that she has grown into an adequate-looking, well-liked, and (still) funny woman.

What a twisted life we live.

Until next time… cover up your lady business. Or let it hang out… I don’t care.

Shannon Allen