The Craft of Deceit

So I know I’m overdue for a post, so I’m just going to compile my thoughts, and hope that it presents itself as some sort of nonsensical discourse that eventually all makes perfect sense. Okay?


So I feel the need to vent/be a little sad about something that happened to me a few weeks ago.

Side Note: I own a tank top that states: Be nice, or you’ll end up on my blog.

You were warned.

So here it is. I met a person that I felt an instant connection with. I felt like I was comfortable around him; we fit strangely into each others’ lives even though it seemed as though we barely had anything in common. We came from different places, different backgrounds, had different types of friends. All this being said, I felt like we complimented each other.

Now, I’m aware that sometimes these things tend to get so intense, that they burn out like an exploding star, but I honestly didn’t think this particular instance would end like that.

Until it did.

Like this:


Why is it that I allow myself to get close to these men, who often have to PRY my emotions from my clenched, cold hands and make me have The Feels, and then kick me to the curb!? It’s almost like one gigantic cosmic joke. Almost like the Universe is telling me that it’s going to dangle these men in my face who do and say all the “right” things and then lay the smack down and say, “HA HA SHAN! Just kidding! You can’t have a man who is smart, and funny, and successful, and good looking, who likes you and might actually care about you!”

No. That would just be too easy.

Look, Universe, I’m twenty-fucking-seven. I’m not saying that I’m “old” per se, but I am getting “old-er” and I feel like it’s not fair that you keep treating me like some broken baby doll from the Land of Misfit Toys.

Except it doesn’t look like this:


It looks like this:


What’s the fucking deal???

And the PROBLEM with this, is that each time something blows up in my face like one gigantic bomb, that sets fire to all the blood and tissue and sinew in my poor, sad broken heart, I feel the need to EXPLAIN MYSELF.

Well then THAT just ends up blowing up in my face like another land mine that was left undetonated and the cycle continues.

And I look like this:


Long story short, when this particular boy blew up in my face, I thought perhaps I could justify my feelings by writing a well-written, concise email that explained EXACTLY why I reacted the way that I did and gave a DETAILED account of “The Feels.” I hoped that this person would read my heartfelt words, and know that the only reason I reacted the way I did, was because I had actual FEELINGS for this person. And they were indeed reciprocated. How do I know this? Because this person did things like call me “just to hear my voice,” send me text messages about future plans, wanted our lives to be integrated with one another. He told me that he was happy, and I was too.

Then, WHAT here is the problem?

And here’s what I think it is.

The men of my generation know how to say and do exactly what women want them to do. The sincerity of everything has been brushed aside. It’s an equation; a way to solve a problem. Men are usually the ones to find solutions to problems that their ladies present to them (often at the annoyance of the lady, who only want to vent).

My generation of men has perfected the craft of deceit.

And this is how that makes me feel:


Now I know I appear to sounds like a broken record about this particular subject, but I still cannot believe I continue to be duped by these men. What drives me crazy is that this one in particular felt so REAL. Perhaps I still fail to see the risk I’m taking every time I try to see the best in people.

I don’t know.

Anyway, after my email was sent and I presented my unfiltered feelings to this person, his first reaction was (and I quote), “I think it’s best for both of us if I take a step back.”

WHAT?! AM I TAKING CRAZY PILLS. I was aggressively courted by this person; swept off my feet, introduced to his best friends, told I was beautiful, told I was cared about. I did not concoct an imaginary person out of thin air!

So why does it always feel like I’m the one suffering when things go awry?

Here is this person who essentially took me for this magnificent ride in his flashy car full of “promises” and “futures” and “respect” and “caring for one another,” and then the MOMENT I decide that I would ALSO like to reciprocate feelings, he needs to take a “step back.”


I call bullshit.

I call bullshit on the entire thing. It’s like women of my generation can’t be fucking honest about how they feel because they will be labeled as “crazy,” whereas the men of my generation I believe actually WANT relationships and WANT to care about another person, but if they let themselves too close they feel like they are losing something. In New York a big excuse is the “career.” Another one I’ve heard is that they are just “confused about what they want, and looking for someone to help them figure it all out.”

What? Help you figure your shit out so that you can leave me in the dust, while you pursue your budding finance career and go off to fuck some other chick with a thigh gap and an IQ of 50?

I don’t get it.

I will never “get it.”

I’m sorry Taylor Swift, but boys don’t only want love if it’s torture. In FACT, the first hint of torture they start running. The reason they stay with you is because you’re beautiful, and powerful, and famous.

I feel like I’m almost a different species to these men. And I’m not talking about being a woman in general, I’m talking about being the specific kind of woman I am: strong-willed, driven, emotional (without qualms), blunt, honest, but also loving, and nurturing, and respectful, and thoughtful.

You don’t get to have one side of my personality and run aways when things don’t go the way you want them to.

Basic human interaction is full of choice and compromise. I feel as though my generation has become so self-indulgent that we’ve forgotten this. We’ve forgotten what it feels like to love and be loved. We allowed ourselves to achieve greatness in our lives, but not with each other. We’ve become hard; addicted to machines, and sex, and instant gratification.

Let’s let go of the deceit and start getting real.

Until then… scratch everything I said in this blog post (What I Think About on Airplanes) and let me go back into my shell until the winter is over and have someone else use a hammer and chisel to try to get my heart-sickle to open up again.


Shan Baby


Sex, Hugs and Rock and Roll

Dad: Don’t read this.

Listen up.

You want Shan Bitch!?!

Well here she is.

Let me make a few things VERY clear.

I have an abundance of strong, smart, amazing men in my life. My dad, my brother, friends’ husbands and boyfriends.

But there are NONE in my romantic life.


Douche after DOUCHE after DOUCHE! I need a damn break!

You wanna get passive aggressive… go do it to someone who GIVES A FUCK! And I’ll have a great time calling you out in a passive aggressive blog post. There… We’re fucking even.

I’m just going to lay out a few (or many) guidelines, rules and “things you should know” about me.

This is for any potential man who wants to date me. In the future… I swear I’m going to make someone read this fucking list… because if they want to run away screaming and crying like a little whiny douche canoe, FEEL FREE MOTHER FUCKERS.  I’d rather get an honest answer about if someone likes me or not rather than some fucking passive aggressive social media post or some other dumb fucking way.

Here it goes.


1. I need a LOT of love and attention. I’m an attention whore in pretty much every aspect of my life, and in a relationship, I’m no different. I expect to be told how much I mean to you all the time and constantly be flattered with comments about how beautiful, smart, interesting and talented I am. (I will probably blush and say someone self-depricating about myself in return… but know that I really like your compliments).

2. I like to talk A LOT. Get over it.

3. I’m loud as FUCK. Get over it.

4. I will probably embarrass you in public because I’m not afraid to start conversations with complete strangers during dates. (It’s known to happen).

5. I’m NOT neat. My room is a mess.

6. I have a ton of clothes… many of them contain spikes, glitter, feathers and other aspects you probably don’t understand being a straight male.

7. My red lipstick will probably get on your clothes.

8. I also wear a TON of makeup when I want to (complete with fake lashes) and none when I don’t want to.

9. I’m going to have FAT DAYS and UGLY DAYS and MOODY DAYS and days when I hate EVERYTHING about myself. Just nod, smile and tell me that you care about me. I will probably be a complete bitch, but also get really offended if you back off and give me space.

10. BECAUSE when I push you away… it means I really want you closer. (How’s that for logic?)

11. I’m going to tell you that I don’t care a lot… but I really do care. Because I care about most things… probably more than I should. I also take EVERYTHING personally.

12. I will drunk dial you: EVERY time I get drunk. I will apologize the next morning, but I won’t really be sorry about it. I’ll probably just be annoyed (both while drunk and sober) if you didn’t answer my call or text.

13. I HATE TEXTING! Even though I do it constantly. The reason I really text is because in my experience, men in my dating age range HATE talking on the phone… it weirds them out and makes them think that women are “clingy” when really I just want to hear your fucking voice.

14. Every man I’ve ever dated has gotten the disclaimer: “YOU DON’T WANT TO DATE ME! I’M CRAZY.” But has laughed it off. No one has been able to handle me. Ever. Period. I don’t apologize for who I am… so if you don’t want to work at it… don’t even start.

15. I will cry. A lot. Mostly about my mom. If you can’t deal with this, I’m not your girl.

16. I LOVE sports. I follow the NFL, MLB, NBA, college football and basketball. However, I expect you to go to the ballet, theater, music venue with me even if you don’t like those things. I FUCKING LIKE SPORTS… how many girls you’ve dated can say that? And I actually KNOW something about the teams I follow. If you really can’t compromise and do some of the artsy things I like… well fuck you.

17. I am a hypochondriac (for good reason) and I will always think I’m dying of something.

18. I expect you to tell me I look pretty even when I’m not. The only men I accept the truth about in those situations are my gays.

19. I have a lot of fucking friends. I expect you to get to know them all and know their background stories and why they’re important to me.

20. If you are homophobic, racist or sexist: just stop now. Seriously. Don’t even waste your time.

21. I am a performer, which means I will have a crazy schedule. If you can’t keep up with the times I choose to be social, which is a lot of late nights… sorry bout it.

22. My favorite drink is whiskey diet. I also like craft beer. I will never drink beer when I have a fat day.

23. I take my coffee iced, with soy milk and LARGE. It is rare that I ever drink hot coffee.

24. I sing along with every song that is playing… which I think is okay because I have a good voice.

25. I judge you based on your favorite bands.

26. I want you to be head over heels for me. I don’t like nonchalant men. I want you to be all about me, all the time, no exceptions.

27. I want to give you a lot of attention. This is not me being “clingy,” it’s just my way of showing you that I LIKE YOU. Human connection is what I thrive on… I like to be talking 90% of my day. Just look at my cell phone call list.

28. I will probably be completely skeptical of every nice thing you do for me for about a month. Then I will let it go. There are going to be times when I doubt you, because as I mentioned before… I’ve NEVER been treated the way I deserve by anyone I’ve ever loved.

29. If you’re going to ever get me a gift, put some thought into it. A cheap, thoughtful gift means more than any expensive generic gift… at least to me.


30. I expect lots of sex, hugs and rock and roll in our relationship. I want PASSION and LOVE and GIGGLES and nights where we don’t sleep because we just want to stay up and talk. I want SPONTANEITY and RESPECT and CARE. 100% of the time. Not just 99.9% of the time. All the time, 24/7. I want to FIGHT and SCREAM at you when I “hate” you and FIGHT AND SCREAM at you because I care about you so much that I won’t give up. I want to get wasted and make out with you on the subway in my five inch heels. I want you to hold my hand when we walk around New York City. I want you to spoon me when I’m sad and laugh at me when I fall on my ass.

And in return…

I will scratch your back when you’ve had a long day. I will watch Sports Center with you before we go to bed. I will leave red lipstick all over your face and clothes. I will laugh at you the first time you poop in my apartment/fart in front me… and I will never let you forget about it. I will write songs about you/blog about you/tweet about you. I will make our pictures my profile picture and be a stupid mushy girl in texts to you.  I will love and respect all your friends and remember ever birthday, anniversary, significant moment. I will be crazy passionate.

You will NEVER find another girl like me.

And I don’t expect you to.

This weekend I was at one of my best friend’s weddings and I got up and spoke at the rehearsal dinner. I told the story of how Krista and I were having a heart to heart in Theta and I remember her saying to me, “I don’t think anyone will ever love me as much as I love them.” Well… I know now that she has Alex, she never has to worry about not being loved enough.

I feel like the same statement up to this point, has been absolutely true.

And some (crazy) man is going to prove me wrong.


DEFINITELY not today.

But someday.

When the time is right.

So take me or leave me.

I’m not changing.


One FIERCE Bitch,

Shannon Rose Allen

Oh yeah… and this is how FUCKING AWESOME my makeup was this weekend…


Having the Flu w/o Boyfriend < Having the Flu With Boyfriend

So I’ve been bed-ridden since Wednesday.

And it has NOT been fun.

I’ve been absolutely miserable.

Just when I thought I would be able to eat solid foods… my flu came and ruined it again.

So as I’m sitting on my couch for the fourth night in a row with a Gatorade in hand, watching yet another movie, (Because the only things to do when you’re sick are sleep, read and watch TV/movies) I began to think about how much better this whole week would have been had I had someone to take care of me.

Now let’s be clear. I have absolutely NO desire to be in a relationship right now. For me, relationship cons currently outweigh the pros.

Yet, when you are on four types of drugs, haven’t eaten solid food in a few days and are delirious from your body’s unnatural fever, you start to think about things.

So here are “Shan’s reasons why having the flu with a boyfriend is exponentially better than having the flu without a boyfriend”

1. Boyfriend holds your hair back when you puke.

I have a lot of hair. I have thrown up a lot in the past four days. Enough said.

2. Boyfriend brings your soup and Gatorade when you are too tired to move.

It’s freaking cold in NYC. I don’t want to get off my ass and buy my own Gatorade. So I literally had to find a place that delivered Gatorade through Grub Hub, and order enough of them to justify the $10 deliver minimum… and then tip the guy for coming out at 10 p.m. to give me fucking Gatorade!

If boyfriend were around… he would pity me so much that he would dip into his own boyfriend pockets and buy me Gatorade and soup and tissues and anything else I needed.

3. Boyfriend fluffs your pillow and brings your cold compresses when you are sick.

Boyfriend always knows best. So boyfriend would be able to tell that I was coughing a lot during sleep and needed to have my head propped up. Then boyfriends would ALSO notice my burning feverish forehead and bring me a cold compress.

4. Boyfriend gives you flu massages.

You know how you get SO ACHY that your back feels unbearable to lay on when you have the flu?? You also know how NO ONE wants to touch you when you have the flu???

Boyfriend doesn’t care.

Boyfriend will stop at NOTHING to make you feel better. He will give you a massage on your aching back.

And, OH! Look! Boyfriend also bought you some Aleve and some MORE Gatorade, because he wants to you be happy and healthy again!

What a great boyfriend!

5. Boyfriend will tell you that you’re beautiful even when you look like absolute shit.

Oh yeah. We ALL know how shitty we look when we get sick. I mean… it’s BAD. I would catch myself in the mirror this week and shriek in fear that a pasty old lady had robbed my home and was coming to attack me!

I know I look like shit, and boyfriend does too…

But we all love a good white lie.

6. You have someone to brag to about how skinny you are.

I must have dropped at least five pounds this week. My stomach is looking incredibly flat and my waist is outrageously thin.


Boyfriend will listen.

7. Boyfriend is extra nice when you have the flu.

Boyfriend doesn’t like to see you suffer. He goes out of his way to make you feel better in any way that he can, which usually means being extra, super-duper nice.

8. Boyfriend can decode your delirious fever speech.

ME: “Hey sweetheart, I left my prescription in that thing after you went to the place and bought me that one thing I needed yesterday and I can’t find it. Where is that thing again?”

Boyfriend: “Oh, you mean this pills you left in the freezer accidentally, after I went and bought you more Aleve and tissues from CVS along with your favorite chick magazine and a Redbox movie? Yeah, I’ve got them. And I made you breakfast in bed.”

9. Boyfriend will help with household chores because he feels bad that you are sick.

(You might laugh at this one… but I’ve DEFINITELY had ex boyfriends do this)

Boyfriend will wash dishes, do laundry and clean up clutter when you are sick. One of the BEST perks.

And finally.

10. You will never get stir crazy or lonely when you have the flu, because boyfriend will be there to keep you company.

I cannot tell you how much it has SUCKED to sit in my apartment for four days with no human contact. I have looked at Facebook and my phone so often that I’m beginning to feel desperate for any kind of human contact whatsoever.

I am completely starved for human interaction!

Boyfriend would take care of this.

Yet even as I write all these great things that “boyfriend” would do for me as his sick girlfriend, I still laugh about all the terrible things that come along with having a relationship, and I’m glad that I dealt with this all on my own this week.

But hey, having someone around sure would have made things easier.

Perhaps I can just rent a boyfriend when I’m sick to help ease the pain?

A girl can dream right???

Signed: a girl on the mend.


Shan Babe

Knocking You OUT with my AMERICAN thighs!


I am OFFICIALLY a cast member of the Totally Tubular Time Machine! The show starts in JANUARY and if you wanna see me as a big city superstar in a CRAZY costume (see the sketch below) then you should probably buy tickets. 🙂

Here is my costume sketch. How PERFECT is this for me!?


A spandex bodysuit. A purple wig. Purple lipstick.

Ummmm. YES!

I promise to keep you updated about everything as it comes together.

SO back to the original reason I wanted to write this blog.

I wrote a post last night that got A TON of “likes”

It read: “I don’t trust girls whose thighs don’t touch when they walk. #VSFashionShow #FatThighsRule”

***On a quick side note… apparently people actually read my Facebook/blog and like what I have to say! People I would have NEVER expected have been coming out of the woodwork lately telling me that they like reading my stuff.  THANKS! It’s good to know that I’m not talking to myself via a digital outlet.  I’m glad to know someone is out there listening…

So back to my fat thighs…

I’ve ALWAYS had fat thighs.




Now please don’t tell me… “Oh Shan… you don’t have fat thighs! You’re being silly.”

No. I do. It’s okay.

As Ro used to say, “You’re built like a BRICK SHIT HOUSE”

For real… my mom used to say it to me… ALL THE TIME.

And guess what… I AM.

It’s taken me a LONG time to get over the fact that I’m never going to have skinny legs… or skinny arms… or a smaller ass.

It just AINT gonna happen! Sorry!

Last week I went on a diet where I basically was keeping myself fueled with fresh fruits, veggies, white fish, black beans and unsalted nuts.  It actually wasn’t that bad… but it also made me think. Was I doing this to become healthier or to try to lose weight?

Sadly… I had fallen into the trap where I was desperate to get thin. I’ve been packing on a buffer 5 lbs lately and it’s been KILLING ME! I know it’s not a big deal with it being the holidays and all… but I live in New York, the LAND of models and I’m a performer who is surrounded by GORGEOUS and THIN human beings.

I need to ground myself.

It all finally clicked last night when I was watching the Victoria’s Secret Fashion Show. I DON’T want that body. And even if I did… I would NEVER be able to attain that body.

I’m fine with my fat thighs. In fact… I don’t think I would be “Shan” without my bodacious ass, gigantic WHIPS (as I like to call them) and my thighs that ALWAYS rub together when I walk.  This is embarrassing, but I TOTALLY wear out jeans on the inner thigh because my legs rub together and literally create holes in my jeans. Now THOSE are some American thighs!

Yeah… I could lose some weight. Yeah… I would probably look awesome if I kicked 15 pounds. But who gives a fuck? I’m still good looking. I still have talent. I still have a great personality.

So with that… I leave you with this…

Oh and you better BELIEVE my ass will be looking FABULOUS in that lycra suit!!!! WERK WERK WERK

Shan Halen!

P.S. I’m still working on my breast cancer campaign.  I promise I’m not leaving you all in the dark! These things take time and I”m still nailing down a timeline!

P.P.S. Thanks for reading. I seriously didn’t think anyone cared what I had to say before I started this blog. Now I’m happy to say that I have an audience and I love sharing my craziness with all you twisted people who read my blog 🙂

A Pre-Thanksgiving Tidbit

I got to Boston this morning at 3:45 a.m.

I’m exhausted.

But I’ve had an epiphany in the last few hours.

I’m SO thankful for my family, my friends (who are like family), my health, and the opportunities I’ve been given.

Jackie and I watched the HBO documentary “The Education of Dee Dee Ricks” today about a woman who had “everything” and was diagnosed with breast cancer.  It documents her journey of recovery, as well as her less-fortunate friend, Cynthia, from Harlem, who was not so lucky in her road to recovery.

Please check out this website:

And watch the trailer…

Dee Dee’s story is important. It’s one of honesty, empowerment, and the shifting of life goals and expectations.

Today… I decided to shift mine.

Life is too short.

Let me rephrase… life is too FUCKING short.

Today I decided that 2013 will be DEVOTED to my music, spreading love and helping others.

I’ve had a few doors slam in my face lately, but I think that all these signs are pointing to the fact that I MUST follow my heart and be a performer.

I don’t care what I have to do… I NEED to perform and keep making music.

I’m grateful that I have two feet to stand on, a voice to sing with, and the means to help others with my story.

BIG thinks are coming.

I just needed this week to push me over the edge.

2013… WATCH OUT!

Here comes your girl,


BOOBS! …and other random thoughts…

So today when I was on my way to work, I read that Sharon Osbourne underwent a double mastectomy after finding out that she carried the breast cancer gene.

All the sudden I almost had a heart attack.

Not because this is necessarily shocking news, because I feel like Sharon made a smart move.  However, it just made me remember that I’ve been putting off a task since my mom died: Getting tested for the BRCA1 and BRCA2 genes.

Now… my Aunt (my mom’s sister) was tested about a year ago, and she did NOT have the gene.  BUT, my Aunt (my dad’s sister) had breast cancer when I was younger and THANKFULLY caught it early enough to survive.

The fact that I have breast cancer on both sides SCARES THE FUCKING SHIT OUT OF ME.

I need to EVENTUALLY buck up and get tested.

So, needless to say, I was feeling pretty shitty my entire subway ride to work today, but then I get to work and find this video posted by a friend on my Facebook wall…

And it made me feel SO much better 😉

WHEN I get tested, and IF I have either of these genes, I will make the appropriate decision for me….

But until then… I can watch hot men tell me about checking for lumps 🙂


I know some people (mostly men in their 20s) were pissed about my last post.

Guess what: I don’t take back what I said. Too bad. If you don’t like it, you can either A) stop reading my blog or B) FUCK OFF… because I don’t care if you think that I should make a distinction between “boys” and “men” or that you think my blog posts make “no sense” because you just want to be a dick-wad.

Congrats to you, “clever” men… no boys… no guys… no… horses? pigs? man-bear-pig? Who fucking cares. YOU have officially made it on to my list of ASS HOLES! Hooray!

And for those inquiring: NO, that post was NOT just about a single, human being. It was about several of them. In fact, it was about pretty much every person of the male species (gays excluded) that I’ve met here in this lovely city of mine.

There: that felt good. I’m really not mad… I just needed to let out that steam…

Feels great


It’s Thanksgiving soon! It will be nice to get out of New York for a few days… and eat. and eat. and drink.


I’m reading Jenny Lawson’s book: “Let’s Pretend this Never Happened (A Mostly True Memoir)” and I think it’s just about the funniest thing I’ve ever read.  People have looked at me cross-eyed on the train because I break out into random fits of laughter on my daily commute.

You can check her out here:

I was reading her book today and came across this gem that described EXACTLY how I was feeling today…

“Women scare me enough, but bloggers can be even more frightening to deal with. Most bloggers are emotionally unstable and are often awkward in social situations, which is why so many of us turned to blogging in the first place.  Also, they are always looking for something to write about, so if you fuck something up it will be blogged, Facebooked, and retweeted until your death.” -Jenny Lawson

A. Men.

This woman wrote down all the twisted things that everyone WISHES they could say, but they don’t.

I. Love. Her.

AND FINALLY… In my final tidbit of the night.

I’m hoping to launch my campaign either on my birthday (December 20th) or in early January.

If you haven’t watched the video… please watch… and share 🙂

I hope I haven’t pissed to many people off tonight. If I have… I’m sorry, I’m not sorry.

Shannon Allen