That’s What Friends Are For

Yes, cue the cheesy Dionne Warwick song.

Or how about Kristen Wiig and Rose Byrne’s version in the movies Bridesmaids

Anyway, I just wanted to touch a little on friendship.

Last weekend my best friend from home came to town for a short, two-day visit. She lives in Florida, so our time together is often limited. We literally text/Facebook chat non-stop every day, but it’s just never the same as being together.

I want to think that my relationship with her as being similar to the relationship between Mya Rudolph and Kristen Wiig in the movie Bridesmaids. (In this scenario, I am Kristen Wiig, except for the fact that I did NOT screw up her bachelorette party or wedding planning).

Our conversations usually read similar to those in the brunch scene in the beginning of the movie, although they take place exclusively through phone.


When I found out she was coming for a visit, I nearly died. I didn’t care if it was only a little blip of time.

So naturally, in the short time we had together, we packed in everything we could into those two days and just went wild.


Without getting into too much detail, she and I had a crazy 48 hours (if it was even that) and maybe got into a little too much trouble.

However, when the trip was over, I started really reflecting on my friendship with this person, and how it really has shaped who I am as a human being.

My relationship with Ashley is one of true worth. I know this because, although our relationship is extremely strong, there have been moments where I’m SURE both of us have felt like saying…


… and there was a particular night (the last night of her trip,) where I KNEW she felt like this.

But in the end, we can acknowledge our differences, problems, pettiness, drunkenness, sometimes not togetherness and end up like this…


I don’t believe we’ve ever NOT made up after getting into an argument. In fact, I don’t feel like we really argue with each other, we mostly just get annoyed, acknowledge that feeling, and move on and continue to be best friends.

So why am I writing this post? To gloat? To prove that my best friend is better than yours?

Absolutely not.

I’m writing this post to tell you that it is so ultimately refreshing for me to have a relationship with someone that never revolves around the petty and the unnecessary. There is no drama between us; no feelings of distain, or jealousy, or judgement (ESPECIALLY judgement.)

And I don’t want to confuse honesty with judgement, or for that matter, tact. There are plenty of times that we’ve been brutally honest with each other, but it never moves into the territory of getting judgmental.

I can tell Ashley the most embarrassing details of my life…giphy

I can complain about being a starving artist…


I can text her endlessly and have her analyze every move of the man I’m interested in at the moment…


Or when I’m having a fight with my stomach about whether or not to eat something that’s bad for me…



Our relationship is mature, and crazy, and honest, and respectful, and I’m so thankful that it exists in my life.

Because I know no matter how fucked up things in my life get, I’ll always have her in my corner. And the same goes for her.

Love you, Ash.




Shannon Allen


Girls, Ladies, Women, Broads, Bitches, Sluts and Whores

If you live in 2014 (which if you’re reading this, you absolutely do, or perhaps you are a zombie??) then you’ve used all of these words in everyday life.

I use these words daily.

Now, I’m not going to sit here and tell you that I don’t believe words have power over us. As much as I would like to believe that the word “bitch” and “slut” and “whore” can become meaningless as long as we choose how we use them, I don’t always believe that’s true.

I’m writing this post in response to the overwhelming flood of opinions about the HBO show, GIRLS, which had a two-episode premier the other night.

My 26-year-old self, loved it, but as I turned to Facebook, I realized everyone did not share my sentiments.

Many viewers saw GIRLS as making women seem “weak,” “unmotivated,” and possessing “shallow” relationships with their friends.

I needed to dig a little deeper to see what this is all about.

And I think it comes down to a few things.

The first being a generational difference.

GIRLS is a show that can appeal to women and men of all generations, HOWEVER, I believe there is a disconnect between millennials and those of generations previous.

According to Wikipedia, “Millennials, or the Millennial Generation, also known as Generation Y, are the demographic cohort following Generation X. There are no precise dates when the generation starts and ends. Commentators use beginning birth years from the early 1980s to the early 2000s.”


We are known as the “Peter Pan Generation.” Our elders call us “lazy,” “self-centered,” “self-righteous.” We are the generation who flounders. The generation who was promised the world by our parents and teachers, only to graduate high school or college amidst a depression where no jobs were available to us.

So why the hell would anyone expect a show that is supposed to be a real depiction of 20-something girls in New York City to be anything different than just that?!?

I don’t want to watch a show where girls in New York City live the life of Carrie, Samantha, Charlotte and Miranda.

As entertaining as Sex in the City was, that simply is NOT the reality anymore.

I love GIRLS because I see MYSELF in these women. If I want to fantasize about what I would love my life to be like living in New York, all I have to do is pick up an issue of Vogue. BUT, if I want to watch a snarky, slightly-exaggerated, albeit quirky version of what it’s like as a 20-something woman, I will watch GIRLS.

My next issue, is with women bashing on other women.

One big argument a lot of women put on Facebook was how these women seem “weak” and how they longed for the characters to appear “stronger.”

Why isn’t it okay to show a vulnerable woman? If we, as feminists, are TRULY fighting for women’s equality, why can’t we embrace both ends of the spectrum??



Why do we, as women, have to go around judging other women CONSTANTLY. Do we feel the need to make ourselves feel prettier, stronger, better, more successful??? Why must “slut-shaming” be a term, which we are so familiar?



Isn’t it okay that women in today’s world want to find out who they really are? Isn’t it okay that some women want to find husbands and others want to find careers, and others want BOTH!?

Isn’t it okay that women want to air out their dirty laundry for the world to see, because that makes them more liberated, or human, or just because they fucking CAN!?



We need to stop saying that women in the media are “setting women back,” or “giving women a bad name,” because the fact of the matter is, in 2014, we HAVE A NAME.

The fact that some women demean other women for their choices, ironically gives THEM the label as setting women back.

This world is a big place, full of “smart” women, and “dumb” women, and “sluts” and “whores,” and “Madonnas,” and “prudes,” and “ugly” women, and “over-sexualized” women, and “crazy” women, and “psychotic” women, and “emotional” women, and “driven” women, and “liberal” women, and “conservative” women, and “sluts,” and “bitches,” and “CUNTS.”

There is room for everyone on this earth, and if you really see yourself as a feminist, we can either choose to embrace this an move forward with our own lives, or continue to shame other women, thus keeping us all down.

Just some food for though.

Signed, a crazy, emotional, smart, driven, floundering, sometimes unstable, sometimes stable, BITCH

Shannon Rose Allen

I’m a Lady: Treat Me Like One!

My patience is dwindling.

Hanging by a thread you might say.

And why?

Because I am DONE with the man-children I have met since moving to this city.

I’ve ranted about this before, but something that happened today pushed me completely over the edge.

I’m a free-thinking, feminist who likes to watch football, but can still wear stilettos and a LBD on the weekends. However… as forward-thinking as I may be… I AM STILL A LADY.

And I would appreciate it if I were treated like one.

Men of my generation seem to have this mentality that they can do as little work possible, treat a woman however they please, and expect to be fawned over.

Case in point #1:

We’ll just call this guy Ass Hole #1

Ass Hole #1 is charming. Ass Hole #1 wasted NO time flirting, flattering, questioning my interests and making me feel special. This ass hole tried SO hard to get me to say yes to going on a date with him, where he treated me to a nice dinner. After that he was interested for maybe another week, and then decided he would no longer answer any of my texts or calls.

Normally this wouldn’t infuriate me to the point of ranting and raving all over my blog.

But this particular ass hole decided he would TEXT me today after MONTHS of not speaking… acting like everything was fine.

Now you might be asking yourself, “Shan, why are you so upset by this?”

OHHHHH it gets better.

Let me present to you: Ass Hole #2:

Ass Hole number two really isn’t an ass hole… but what he did was kind of ass-hole-ish and was completely lame.

Ass Hole number two and I met a while ago. We chatted back and forth several times. After being flaked out on three separate occasions, I decided that I was done.

Saturday I get a TEXT. (Notice I keep referring to TEXTS and NOT phone calls)

We start chatting and I’m curious as to what he has to say.

Then shit gets weird. (If I need to explain this: you probably aren’t old enough to be reading my blog)

REALLY?!?! We haven’t spoken in MONTHS and you decide to send me a TEXT like that?!?!!

What the fuck is wrong with you!?! Drunk or not. I don’t fucking care.

I’m not here to answer your fucking desperate text when you feel lonely or need attention. Use your fucking hand and be done with it. Or find another girl.. cause she’s not here.

Now you still might be asking yourself, “Shan… was that REALLY that bad?? He was drunk. These things happen.”

Well let me present to you Ass Hole #3:

I met Ass Hole #3 and I honestly wasn’t even expecting it to be a romantic occurrence.

We started talking about our lives, and our goals and got into one of the most stimulating conversations I’ve had in a while.  I felt like I hadn’t been so candid with someone in a long time, and it was nice to just be able to have a conversation with someone of the opposite sex without any expectations.

The night ended with a kiss and an inquisition for my number.

I have not heard from this man since.

Now, you still may be asking yourself, “Shan, WHY are you SO mad?? There are plenty of nice guys out there, and these were just three that didn’t work out so well.”

Well let me tell you  Boo Boos: this is just a SMALL sampling of the Ass Holes I’ve met since I’ve moved to this illustrious city.

I’ve kept my mind open. I’ve allowed myself to the idea of meeting people anywhere, anytime.

It’s not like I’m just going out to bars and meeting sleaze balls.

In fact, some of these guys and I share mutual friends.

I’m just so SICK AND FUCKING TIRED of not being treated like a lady.

I understand that we live in a world of texting and Facebook and Twitter and everything is NOW, NOW, NOW. You can get anything you want, anytime you want, and there are infinite choices.

I understand that a lot of guys my age don’t want to settle down or get “tied down,” but guess what: NEITHER DO I NECESSARILY.

I’m just asking for some respect.

If we go on a date, I’m not automatically assuming we’ll get married and have a million kids.

That’s not me. My dreams are big… and they will be accomplished whether or not a man is a part of that equation.

So before I work myself into what Ro used to call “a tizzy,” I’m going to breathe and calmly explain the point I’m trying to get across here.

1. I KNOW that all men are not ass holes… so please, men, SPARE me the “Nice Guys Finish Last” bullshit. I’ve heard it a HUNDED million times and I KNOW that there are guys out there who get treated like shit. THIS girl, does not treat men like shit… and would GLADLY welcome a nice guy to cross her path.

(seriously… if you post some STUPID comment along these lines on my Facebook page. I will delete it. And probably delete you as a friend. Just saying…)

2. STOP TEXTING ME 100% OF THE TIME. Pick up the phone.  I like your voice. It is so easy to send a text. TRY a little harder and actually pick up the damn phone.

3. Take me on a date. When did men get this idea that women don’t  like to go out on dates anymore? And I’m NOT saying this has to be something like a fancy dinner. Let’s go watch a football game or go to a museum or walk around central park. Hell… if you wanna sit around with a bottle of wine and watch Game of Thrones, I’M YOUR GIRL!

4. Be honest. One time I met this guy and we had what I thought was a great conversation, but he didn’t ask for my number at the end of the night. Was it a hard pill to swallow? Absolutely. However… did this guy bullshit about how he was going to call/text me the next day?? NO. I like honestly. Stop feeding me bullshit. It is NOT attractive.

5. Try.

Listen bitches… I have grown up with two WONDERFUL men in my life: my brother and my dad. I have watched them treat women with nothing but respect my entire life. I have watched my brother do things for his wife that are ABOVE and BEYOND what any man has ever done for me. Care a little more. I know it’s possible. I’ve watched my father and brother do it. If you care… you will find ways to show a woman you care.


MAN it feels good to get that out.

I’m going to have a drink now.


My Birthday/The Apocalypse/Christmas Adventures

Oh boy it’s been a while since I’ve blogged.  I blame it on the fact that my computer’s Airport card got fried and I basically had no way to connect to the Internet.

I know, I know, I could have probably found an alternative way to connect to the Internet, but I had a lot of shit to do in the past few weeks, as well as a sickness to get over and a birthday to celebrate.

So let’s start with my birthday week:

Part 1: Shannon’s Disastrous Birthday Week Saga

The week before my birthday,  I got REALLY sick.  Like… can’t get out of bed in the morning your head hurts so much, sneezing, coughing, fever, dizzy, SICK SICK SICK!

I worked from home the entire week and rested up so that I would be better the following week.

I spent that weekend planning out my birthday weekend (the following weekend) and getting excited at the prospect of spending the big 2-5 in New York City. I was going to celebrate in style with a free happy hour in Midtown East with all my NYC loves and then trek around the city like I owned it.

I had the dress picked out and everything.

Well… then the week started…

I felt a cold coming on, but I figured it was just residual sickness from the hellish flu I had the week before.



By Wednesday I was miserable: blowing my nose every five seconds and succumbing to coughing fits periodically.

Then Thursday was my birthday.

I looked like Rudolph the Red Nosed Shan Deer because my nose was so raw. My voice had dropped an octave and my eyes were so watery, it looked like I had been crying the entire morning.

I showed up to work and I was the only one in the office, because everyone else was ALSO sick.  (The perks of working in close quarters in a small office…)

I left early to head out to an audition at one of my FAVORITE piano bars, “Don’t Tell Mama” and was absolutely convinced that no matter how bad I felt, I could sing through my sickness.

Wrong Again.

I fell flat on a few notes and just barely hit my final big note of the song.

As soon as I finished singing, I knew I blew it.

I was SO sad.


I left DTM with a heavy heart, because I was SO looking forward to the possibility of a call back, and I knew there was no chance.

Some of my friends told me I should have told the woman holding auditions that I was sick, but excuses are like ass holes… everyone has one.

This is New York: No one gives a fuck if you’re sick, dying, happy, sad, WHATEVER… as long as you can show up and deliver.

And deliver I did not.

Anyway… I don’t want to talk about this anymore because it’s making me sad…

So on to the next adventure of going to my first costume fitting for my show, Totally Tubular Time Machine.

Since I had been without Internet, I read the information about my costume fitting on my (cracked) iPhone.  I read the words “42nd Street” and assumed that I would be within walking distance, since DTM is in Midtown.


I failed to read the portion where the address said Sunnyside, NY (a neighborhood in QUEENS).


My fitting was in 30 minutes and it would take me at LEAST 30 minutes to get to Queens.

Of course, I plugged the address into my iPhone and it kept giving me different directions to different parts of Queens.  So, I picked one and decided to give it a shot.

I got off the train and had NO FUCKING CLUE where I was. I walked toward 42nd street and tried to find the address. This super shady guy asked me if I was lost, and I tried to hold back tears because I felt like it would be incredibly poetic if I died of a stabbing in Queens on my birthday.

I’m not trying to be funny… I was close to tears, and I was completely lost.

Lo and behold, I get an email from the costume designer with her phone number.


I called her and she was like, “Yeah…. you’re totally in the wrong place.”

Luckily she had a car. (Praise) and was only a short while away. (Horray!)

My costume fitting went swimmingly… other than the fact that my nose was running like a faucet by this time and I sounded like a frog.

My costume is bangin ya’ll. For real.  However… it is spandex, so this girls needs to get to the GYM!

My designer was nice enough to drive me into the city where I was going to a drag show with my roommate (he knows me too well).  I wasn’t feeling well at all by this point, but it was my BIRTHDAY!

The drag show was spectacular, and I also met some new friends which was great.

I got home and headed straight to bed.

Then I woke up in the middle of the night and thought the Apocalypse was happening.

Part 2: Shannon’s APOCALYPTIC Sickness

I woke up in the middle of the night and thought I was dying.

No. Joke.

I couldn’t breathe. I was coughing uncontrolably and couldn’t swallow.

I dizzily remember getting up and grabbing water and the closest NyQuil packet I could find.

I thought to myself… “Well, at least you made it to 25. Plus, the world is going to end ANYWAY.”

Well, the world didn’t end, but it sure felt like it for the next 12 hours.

I called in sick to work and stayed in bed until the afternoon when I dragged my ass to the Upper West Side (the land of rich, white people) to the Urgent Care.

Side Note: The BEST part of riding the subway when you’re sick and look like shit, is there will ALWAYS be someone riding the train who looks worse (A LOT worse) than you. I was in my sweatpants, an oversized sweatshirt, my glasses, which were slipping down my nose from the fever and my hair looked a HOT ASS MESS.

When you travel to the land of Rich White People, everything is faster and nicer. The people at the Urgent Care were incredibly upbeat for working around sick people all day.

After the young med student took my vitals and the doctor came in, I was basically told that I originally had a sinus infection that traveled down to my chest and now I had an “acute respiratory infection” that would probably turn into pnemonia had I not come in.


Then the doctor said the magic words: I’m going to put you on three different drugs.


(It really wouldn’t be me if it wasn’t this extreme.  All my closest friends know that when I get sick… I GET SICK.)

What can I say? I have a taste for the dramatic… and apparently so does my immune system.

So I waited at CVS for an antibiotic, a sterriod and an anti-cough medication because at this point I sounded like I had the black lung.

I went back home and started crying. I was SO looking forward to my birthday weekend, and now my plans had been RUINED! Why didn’t I just go to the stupid doctor when I JUST had a sinus infection?????

And then step in Jennifer and Fred. (two of my best NY loves)

Jen and Fred came over and saved the day with a cup of chicken noodle soup! We drank tea, watched a REALLY bad Lifetime movie (is there any other kind) and made dumb iPhone movies.

I ended the night by sleeping at Jennifer’s house after watching Ashley and JP’s wedding on the DVR and eating cake from Gristides.

Part 3: The Birthday Redemption

I woke up the next morning and already felt better. (The magic of prescription medication)

I relaxed the entire day until I headed down to the Lower East Side for the company Christmas Party.  I figured I would go, drink water, and attempt to sing some karaoke.

Oh yes… the company Holiday party was at a karaoke place.  Just my style!

I did my fantastic rendition of “Baby Got Back,” which, if you haven’t heard it… you are in for a treat. 🙂 I also sang “At Last,” The Little Mermaid’s “Part of Your World,” (complete with dramatization) and ended the night with my best Streisand impression of “Rain on my Parade.”

It was a great night…

But it didn’t end there.

My Boo Chadd invited me to meet with him and his friends in Hell’s Kitchen (my stomping ground) and I ended up spending the night dancing the night away (per usual) with some old and new friends (that included incredibly attractive Australian men.)

Ten points for Shan!

My birthday weekend turned out to be pretty awesome!

Part 4: Adventures to Cleveland for a Very Allen Christmas

Then I had to go to the airport…

Ughhhh I HATE airports.  ESPECIALLY around the Holidays.

Everyone smells like they’ve been traveling (because they have) and everyone is pissed off an complaining. Not to mention that everyone thinks they are entitled to an extra seat in the waiting area for their massive amounts of luggage/their fucking dogs while everyone else is standing around miseably.

Luckily my flight was only delayed about 45 minutes, but it seemed like an eternity!

I touched down in Cleveland and saw a winter wonderland! The ground here is all covered in snow (we’re actually in the middle of a terrible bilzzard right now).

The past few days have consisted of a LOT of eating (my dad and I made Ro’s sauce yesterday), a LOT of drinking (whiskey, Christmas Ale, red wine, Baileys/coffee) and LOTS of great family time.

I was SO surprised when Griff and Alanna gave me not only a pair of earrings, but a ring with diamonds taken from my Grandma’s old diamond ring.

Just call me Rhianna because I’m “shining bright like a diamond!”

They also got me a gift certificate to so I can go to a show when I get back to NYC!

My dad and I saw the Hobbit yesterday, which I LOVED. I need to take a break from Harry Potter to read The Hobbit again… I forgot how much I love that story.

In reflection, 2012 has been pretty damn good. I graduated from Berklee, moved to NYC, went to LA for The Voice, came back, booked an off-broadway show, and continue to meet new friends who have become a sort of twisted, crazy second family to me.

So to my immediate family: Griff, Alanna, Griff, and Blue. I love you and I’m so lucky to have you in my life forever and always.

To my NYC family: Jennifer, Chadd, Chetan, Fred, Alex, Barb, and all my fabulous loves. You are the greatest and have made New York my new home. 🙂

And to all the rest of you around the world: Ashley and Ryan, Christina, Katie, RJ, Krista, David and Paul, Peach, Amanda and Chase, Lexy, Lacey and SO many more… (Please don’t be mad if I forgot you! You are ALL loved!)

Happy Holidays my Loves,

Shannon Rose Allen

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 🙂

Today was a good day… :)

Today, I got a role in a show called Totally Tubular Time Machine at the Culture Club on 39th Street (MY FIRST SHOW!)

Today I recorded vocals over a demo recording of one of my new songs.

Today I went for a run after work.

Today… one of my BEST friends made me EXTREMELY proud!!! 🙂

Today I hashed out some new songs I’ve been sitting on for a while.

Today I Face Timed with my brother and sister-in-law.

Today I got SO MUCH LOVE on Facebook regarding being cast in a show, it was unbelievable! 🙂

Today… was a DAMN GOOD DAY! 🙂



Shan Babe

Friday Night Dance Parties

My night last night read like a Katy Perry song…]

You know the one where she dances on table tops and takes too many shots.

Yep… that one.

It’s almost 4 p.m. and I just woke up.

I think the time on my cab receipt reads something like  5 a.m.

My head hurts.

My feet are sore.


So after a 5-day long diet of nothing but essentially fruits an veggies, I decided to drink last night.


I had the BEST dance party with both old and new friends.

The lesbian DJ gave me drink tickets.

I lost my cute little pink sweater because I had to take it off because it was SO HOT in the club!

The bartender liked me so much that he only charged me for two drinks.

I then went downtown to this CRAZY Bulgarian bar where everyone was jumping up and down and stomping to what I’m assuming was Bulgarian music.

Then we ventured to the same bar where I met a few sleazy Jersey boys a few weeks ago.

Aaaaaaand I ended the night with a turkey club.


Great night.

Shan Halen