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…



Rejection is a Hard Pill to Swallow

I know I am talented.

I even know I’ve been considered  REALLY talented.

But guess what… no one gives a SHIT if you are talent. Because EVERYONE in New York is talented.

Today I had a private audition for The Voice.

This was my THIRD time going.

The first time I got a casting interview, but didn’t make it to the next level.

The second time I went to the auditions, I got a casting interview, flew all the way to LA for the week, and then was cut before Blind Auditions.

This time, I was SUPER hesitant. Did I really want to go through all this again? Was it worth it to put my life on hold for a TV show that probably didn’t even want me anyway?

I went in this time telling myself that it didn’t matter if I went through to the next round or not because I had already proved that I was talented enough.

So I went in there and sang the SHIT out of The Beatles “Come Together.”

Aaaaaaaand they cut me. On the spot. No casting interview or any consideration of my other songs.


In a lot of ways I could feel it coming. I KNOW they didn’t want to hear a classic rock song. And for that matter, I don’t think they are looking for a chick rock and roller. That shit doesn’t sell. The public doesn’t want rock.

But you know what??? I was completely comfortable with my choice to open with a classic rock song as opposed to a pop tune that 500 other hopefuls were going to use.

That’s who I am to my core.

Give me a Beatles, Hendrix, Zeppelin song any day over some played-out bullshit pop song or some fucking R&B tune where the singer riffs more than singing the actual melody.

I’m DONE trying to placate people so I can be on a fucking television show. I don’t want to go through this process again where I’m basically begging some producer to let me though to the next round, when I know that half of what they are thinking about are ratings and type-casting.

Don’t get me wrong… I had a blast the last time I made it through to LA. The people on The Voice are a great team and treated me with lots of respect and certainly accommodated us, but I was also given a Lenny Kravitz song by those same producers, absolutely KILLED my audition, and then was promptly sent home.

I guess I’m just not what they’re looking for.

And that’s okay.

But my internal issue right now, is that I’m not sure I’m what anyone is looking for.

I had a chat with one of my best friends the other day about how there has really been a lack of female rockers in the mainstream world since basically the 80s.  Sure we have Grace Potter, but she is still wildly underrated as far as the mainstream world. And then we have pop/rock artists like Pink and Kelly Clarkson, but they usually lean more toward the pop-spectrum.

I NEED to fill that void.

That’s what I’ve always wanted.

I want to break the mold and give people something different to listen to.

I want to be a Joan Jett or a Stevie Nicks or a Pat Benetar or a Grace Potter. I WANT to MAKE people love strong women rock they way I do!

Women In Rock and roll (8)

I know my first album leaned in the pop direction, but the album I’m writing right now, I’ve been really sticking to the blues/rock sound I’ve always admired and I think fits my voice best.

But alas, I have no band, no money and haven’t performed live since July (at least singing-wise).

My Off-Broadway show is the only thing that’s keeping me going right now. But as some of you know… my part in the show is acting/dancing/improv, NOT singing, which is ironically enough what I’m best at. Half of the people I perform with don’t even know I can sing!

I don’t want this post to come off as “poor me,” because NOTHING is going to stop me from continuing to pursue my dreams, but FUCK man… I just wish my life had some kind of direction.  The scariest part is that right now… I’m trying to figure out where I fit in this world, which is what most people do in college… and I’m well beyond college age at this point.

So what do we do when rejection slaps us in the face? Show them the other cheek and move along.

I know I’m moving on.

But sometimes it feels like I’m swimming upstream.


So with that I leave you with that song that the producers in my room didn’t think was good enough:

I’m good enough for me.

And that’s all I need to be.


Watch me at the Cyber PR Digital Press Conference!

Hey guys! Today at 3 p.m. EST, I will be streaming live on Hypebot through USTREAM from the Cyber PR Digital Press Conference! #CyberPR_DPC

Blog to follow about my experience! 🙂




Love and Music,

Your Hostess with the Mostess!


Just a Rock and Roll Queen, looking for my Dave Grohl…

It’s been a while since my last post, and for that I apologize.  Lots of things going on in the busy world of Shan Halen, and I’m finally starting to put my big girl life together.

I’ve been in New York for about a month and 1/2 now and there’s something I want to discuss.


Yes, I’ve talked about this before in posts, but this post is not some jaded, just-broken-up-with Shan post, this is a post about FINDING a man.

As nice as everyone has been in New York City, I find that 20-something men, (in general) are incredibly unapproachable.

Not to mention I hang out at gay bars most of the time… but we’ll get to that in a minute.

Here’s my main problem: I HAVE NO IDEA HOW TO DATE!!!!

The last time I dated, it was 2009, and I had just moved to Boston.  I remember how exciting it was when I received my first number at a bar and how grown up I felt that some guy ACTUALLY picked me up! It was exciting meeting new people and exploring my options as a young, 21-year-old girl.  Oh how those years passed me by…

I don’t regret my last relationship… it’s just that I thought I was done searching for men.  I thought that my last relationship was the one to last forever, so I never bothered to think about the fact that I would be in my mid-twenties, living in New York, and looking for love.

I feel like Carrie Bradshaw… except I like to fart and burp, and I definitely don’t have enough money to buy the kind of clothes or shoes she wears.

I’m just a fucked up rock and roll bitch, looking for my own personal Dave Grohl….


So back to my original problem… I have NO idea how to date a guy!

First of all, why does everyone want to text… ALL THE TIME!?!?!?! I love talking on the phone.  I like hearing someone’s voice.  I’m not into this whole, let’s exchange flirty texts and then be super awkward in person thing. Why is it that men can seem incredibly charming over text and then be total duds on actual dates.  I’m all about actually having human contact with a person.  I’m not sexy over text… not even CLOSE.  I have a loud voice, a big personality and a LOT of things to say, that just don’t translate into a 160-word text that may carry unwanted connotations.

And what is up with people “sexting!?!?!” I just don’t get it.  Again, I’m NOT charming or sexy via text.  I like writing, but if I wanted to hear about some hot, sexy love making scene, I would rather read “50 Shades of Grey,” than listen to your awkward text about how sexy you think I am.  Call me crazy… I like a man whose voice I actually recognize because we talk on the phone instead of exchanging texts with one another.

On to my next problem…. I have no problem calling people out on their bullshit… AKA…. I’m not appealing to men who want to control their women.

Ladies… I’ve read all three “50 Shades of Grey” books.

FUCK those books.

Yes… I said it. FUCK those books.

Every single time Christian Grey yells at Ana for “disobeying” him, I want to punch a man in his balls. Literally, I would NEVER put up with the kind of blatantly disrespectful behavior that goes on in these books. Yes, I read them all, but that does not mean that I want, nor condone the behavior in the book.  If you’re into S&M, that’s fine, but there’s a difference between that and being a closet freak and wanting to beat the shit out of the woman you “love.”

No man will ever “control” me… nor do I want, or fantasize about that.

Man… it feels good to get that off my chest.  Sorry America, I disagree with your taste in novels.

If you don’t believe me, listen to my song, “Easy.” (It basically outlines everything I just stated)

Here’s another problem I have with meeting me: I have been taught to fear for me life, via my father.

Every time I speak to him on the phone he says, “Shan… just BE SAFE.”

This is what my dad things dating a stranger in New York means :

Every time a man approaches me, I am trained as a child of my father, to believe that this means he is going to kidnap me and sell me into sex slavery.  It’s not an easy emotion to deal with.  I know that there are many perfectly, normal men in New York, but NOT according to my dad! Everyone is an enemy!

Next, a problem with dating is that I prefer to go out to gay bar, instead of hanging out with heterosexual men.

Call me crazy, but gay men make me feel much more myself than ANY straight man has EVER made me feel.

My gay friends are comfortable with who they are, and they embrace themselves completely.  I never feel like I have to be a certain kind of person around them… I’m just myself.  When I try to impress a straight man, there is always an underlying worry that I’m not what they or looking for, or I’m not the typical, beautiful, seen but never heard girl.  That’s not me.

And I’m not sorry.

So in conclusion… if there are ANY straight men STILL out there, who MIGHT want to date me, I’M HERE!

I’m loud, crazy, obnoxious, emotional, and plenty of other traits you probably AREN’T looking for in a person… but that’s me.

Dave Grohl… I wish you were still available… but you aren’t 😦

So I’m looking for the next best thing! 🙂


Your Crazy Lady Business Chick,

Shan Halen

Morningwood (the musical kind)

First of all… NO. I am not talking about morning wood.  Get your minds out of the gutter!!!

I’m speaking, of course, about the band Morningwood.  Lead singer Chantal Claret, has got to be one of the coolest leading ladies I’ve ever seen perform.  She actually pulled a guy dressed as a horse out of the audience during the set and rode him around during her song “Why Do Boys Love Horses.”

Let’s start from the beginning, so I can explain how this delicious adventure started:

I was in the office last week and my boss was complaining that she had no one to go to a show with the following week. I inquired about the show and she told me that she had VIP tickets to Morningwood and Mindless Self Indulgence in Worcester, MA.  I have been a fan of Morningwood since 2005 with their hit, “Nth Degree.” So naturally… I was bouncing off the walls with excitement.

(FLASHBACK) I can remember getting up for high school in 2005 and turning on VH1 to watch and listen to their morning videos when this band called Morningwood came on the screen.  I was immediately encapsulated with this strange glam pop/punk sound that came out of my television.  I couldn’t believe this band with a chick lead singer could have not only a great sounds, but have the balls to call themselves Morningwood. (If you don’t know what morning wood is, you probably aren’t old enough to be reading this.)

(BACK TO REALITY) So, my boss and I headed out Worcester around 5:30 pm on Saturday, not exactly sure what we were getting into.  The drummer of Morningwood used to work with my boss, and this show was going to be their 7th-to-last before the band would dis-band.  We HAD to see them one last time.

As we pull up to the venue and immediately notice that there are about a billion security people with white STAFF shirts outside, a marquee that has missing lights and the entire Crayola spectrum of colored-hair fans waiting to get inside.  It was chaos.  As we walked into the venue with our tickets, a severe-looking security woman patted us down and made sure everything was emptied out of our pockets.  I had a terrible flashback to a time a TSA pulled me aside because I had forgotten to take a bottle of shaving cream out of my suitcase. He violated my teddy bears, pulled out a few pairs of underwear usually reserved just for my boyfriend’s eyes, and searched all my prescription drugs.  I thought they were going to take me into one of those little rooms and put me on a no fly list until they found the shaving cream and yelled at me.  I had been to New York (on a bus) the previous week and forgot to take it out of my bag.  OH NO!!! THE EVIL SHAVING CREAM!! LOCK ME UP AND TAKE ME AWAY!!! (Ughhh… the TSA…. that’s another blog post all in itself. I’m doing quite a bit of traveling in the coming weeks, so I’m sure I’ll have much MORE to say on the subject in a few weeks.)

Once we were done with the rape portion of the show… we walked inside, and that’s when the spectacle truly began.

To name a few characters: Robin (minus Batman), man dressed like a horse (as mentioned before), several chicks in Alice-in-wonderland stockings (usually accompanied by some sort of mesh shirt), a 4’0” girl dressed as a bear (we called her Baby Bear), people dressed as Pikachu, lot of chains and bondage apparel, and a plethora of teenagers who were trying to score drink bracelets.  Everyone’s Chuck Taylors were getting stuck to the floor of the carpet that looked like it hadn’t been redone since 1969, and that’s being generous.  The place smelled like a combination of B.O., baby prostitute perfume (which many girls drenched themselves in), cigarette smoke, stale beer and vomit.  YUM!

Initially, I thought I might fit in this crowd with my blue hair extensions, but I wasn’t even close to the caliber of some of these get-ups. Honestly… who has time to look like that!?! Not me… I put minimal effort into my appearance whenever possible.

Don’t get me wrong here… I am NOT making fun of this culture.  I actually think it’s pretty bad-ass! It was just so funny to walk in and see so many punks in the same room.  And come on, if these people didn’t want to be looked at and talked about, they wouldn’t be wearing some of the things they were wearing. It was like every single person was trying to outdo each other. Similar to the way kids in Martha’s Vineyard try to see how many pastel colors they can pair with the Sperry boat shoes for a garden party. (Sorry… it had to be said)

When the show started, my boss and I went to the VIP area and we were better off for it… THIS CROWD WAS ROWDY.  Not to say I don’t enjoy a good mosh pit from time to time, but I was drinking a whiskey diet and would have been pissed A) if someone spilled it on me and more importantly B) if someone knocked it on the floor, preventing me from drinking this delicious alcoholic concoction.  (A word to the wise: don’t get between me and my whiskey.  It’s bad news for everyone).

Morningwood came out and blew the house down.  I see A LOT of shows (working for a venue and all) but this show made me feel absolutely ENERGIZED! I was singing along to my favorite MW songs, dancing, drinking, cheering… it was just heaven.  When Chantal sang “Take Off Your Clothes,” she jumped into the pit and it was just crazy to watch everyone (men and woman) who just grabbed her boobs ever so vigorously.  (She didn’t give a shit, she loved it!) This show was also a wonderful treat after working 40 hours last week in addition to 14 hours of class.  I was finally able to let my hair down and not care about anything except what song was coming up next.

After MW, my boss and I met up with the drummer and chatted with him about the show.  Then I went to the merch table and met Chantal.  She was not only running her own merch table, she would take the time to personalize and sign merchandise AND take pictures with fans.  For someone who has been doing this so long, it was incredible cool to see an artist who wasn’t wrapped up in celebrity bullshit.

Mindless Self Indulgence was next up on stage and this is when shit got REALLY crazy.

Fist of all, if you haven’t heard of Mindless Self Indulgence, you need to look them up to get the full effect of just how insane this show was.  In the VIP section we could look down at the pit below us.  It seemed to be moving like one giant wave with the vortex, of course, being the mosh pit where in general fashion, people were smashing into each other in a giant circle.  Some of the moshers scared me, but then I noticed the others were helping pick people up off the floor.  What a friendly mosh pit!  Besides the mosh pit were the crowd surfers.  the bouncers at the front of the stage were HARD CORE.  The biggest one stood in the middle and carried everyone from 100 pound teenagers to 250 pound men dressed as fairies out of the pit after a good surf.  One girl attempted to jump on stage after the bounces pulled her out and another bouncer swiftly grabbed her and threw her out.  It was kind of magical to see these big, gorilla-like men snatch up these crazy punks in attempt to control them.  What a crazy life those bounces must have.

All in all, the show was fucking fantastic.  But the night was not over.  My other boss grew up in Worcester and told us we needed to go to Ralph’s Diner up the street to grab burgers and chili.  When we walked into the place, I felt like I was stepping back in time.  The place felt like it had probably been built as a simple diner in the 50s and then expanded into a bar/music venue.  I thought we perhaps took the Delorean back to the late-70s/early 80s.  It was kind of awesome.  The original Godzilla film was playing on televisions that looked like they were duct-taped to the walls, the whole place looked like it might be rotting from the inside out, but it was one of the largest and best burgers I’ve ever had! The rustic atmosphere made me feel like I was hanging out in downtown New York during the years of Dylan and Hendrix. There are no words.

The whole ride home, I couldn’t help but reflect on how wonderful the past few months of my life have been.  I feel like I’m actually starting to get a grasp on what living in the music industry as a business person and a performer is all about.

ROCK ON! And remember… cover up your lady business before you get patted down!