A Career Woman and A Housewife

Here's the deal, this our blog... This is where we come to write about our lives. The Good. The Bad. The Ugly. And of course, The Beautiful. We welcome anyone to come on in, take a look around and have a few laughs. Nothing makes us happier than nice comments and finding a new BLOG friend. If you can't handle what we have to say, just leave quietly and pretend you've never been here...We will retaliate.

Monday, February 28, 2005

Hell Week - Day 1

So here we go. Today is Day 1 of...dum dum dum..... Tryout Week. It is here and the quickness of it has blindsided me and I'm left permanently lethargic. I am going to post about last night, after the engagement party, and when Pumpkinface and I came back in our drunken stupor (actually... I was drunk, he was more coherent), and my obsessive, compulsive, anxious ridden mother was making Alex do her jumps in the kitchen. Oh yes, we began Career Woman's Cheer Camp 2006 at 10:00 p.m.

While Pumpkinface was heating us up some scrumptous left overs from the "party of the year," I was forcing my sister to jump as high as her little legs would take her. I thought that Pumpkinface was cookin' it up in the kitchen, only to notice that he was in deep concentration of my sister's cheerleading capabilities. You see, Pumpkinface is multi-talented, not only can he heat up some mean macaroni's and chicken, but he can coach and critique jumps at the same time. "Oh no Alex, you are doing it all wrong, come down on the balls of your feet like this" (as he explained that he knows this stuff because of his sister and his cousin Maryanne....isn't he the cutest!). After slight coaching from Pumpkinface, my sister was rolled up in balls of laughter on the kitchen floor and couldn't do a damn thing because her future brother-in-law was demonstrating the right way to land a jump.

We finally sent Alex to bed at 10:30 to get some of that R.E.M. sleep she will need to survive the week. The rest of us went to bed shortly after because doing jumps at 10:00 p.m., drunk, is not a good prep for a monday morning at work and an evening of Cheer Camp 2006.

Therefore, we are still in Day 1 of Hell Week. Her first tryout practice begins tonight. I think that Pumpkinface and I are going to go to mellow out this evening before she gets home. Take our money we earned yesterday at our party, put it in a joint savings account, go out for a lovely dinner and come home and attempt to survive the first night of hell week! Look forward to another post tomorrow that will divulge on tonight's course of events. Wish us luck... It's going to be a long week!

-Career Woman

Weekend Update

Housewife and I had a pretty eventful weekend ya'll! Friday night, as you saw, was what we like to refer to as "Nikki's first night out in a long ass time!" Pumpkinface worked and Big Daddy was still in Boston, so Housewife and I decided to go out for dinner and have a couple drinks, afterall, we deserved it! Notice I said "couple" of drinks. Housewife truly is a "housewife" and does not get out very often therefore those "couple" of drinks, really did her in. (Please refer back to previous post - A Night Out).

Friday night was fun. We ran into an old danceliner, and remembered the good times (Please refer back to previous post - Remember When). Good times. Good times. Saturday, Pumpkinface and I went shopping for our ENGAGEMENT PARTY - yey us! Therefore, Sunday was our engagement party. It might just have been one of the best times ever. We have the most awesome family and friends out there- honestly. We got a cookie recipe book that all his aunts are going to make for our reception, engraved pictures frames with our names and FUTURE initials (hehe) out the wazoo, we also got our cake cutting "things" engraved with our date, names, etc... We got two sets of engraved champagne glasses for our toasts - absolutely beautiful thanks much! A true silver platter engraved, champagne, wine, and like 8 million wine glasses out the ass! We got all the color candles that we need with their favorite sayings from my favorite future sister-in-law ever! Eddie and I got a football platter from Kristen and Carly, he was pretty excited about that one. One of the two best gifts came from my mom and dad and Pumpkinface's. My mom and dad engraved a door knocker that we will put on our first home with our future last name and "Est. 2006." I know, all of you are getting so teary-eyed, hold it in kids! And Eddie's mom and dad got us the aisle runner that is going to be embroidered and hand painted with our special saying on it painted in the color of our wedding. I fell in love with it the first moment I saw it! We received so much stuff I can't even tell you - 50 gifts or so, no crap and the mulah (money), sweet jesus, it was like a reception all over again (er, before or something). I just want to send a special shout out to everyone involved, and how huge is our wedding party - our friends and family are awesome and we love you all very VERY much! Thank you for sharing in such a special day and we definately look forward to planning everything with all of you! Much Love!

And don't worry all.. the pictures will be posted as soon as Housewife gets back to Boston with her adapter/attacher thingy! You will soon get to see the most beautiful wedding party ever!

Saturday, February 26, 2005

A Night Out

Do you speak drunkanese? If not, go to the bar, have a few drinks and then come back. Otherwise, you won't know what the @#!* I'm talkin' 'bout!

Career Woman and I went out tonight. I'm home now. These are things I know.

I'm a two beer queer. Only I don't drink beer. I guess you could call me a two liquor queer. Only that doesn't sound as catchy. I caught a fish once. But I guess that wouldn't matter right now. So, I had two drinks. That made me feel inebriated. I know...I'm such a good time.

Career Woman called me earlier. Our blunt conversation went something like this:

Morgan: Nik, let's go to *********'* tonight.

Nikki: uh, ok, I need a break.

Morgan: I have to go home and shower, I just got done tanning, I smell.

Nikki: Alright, go wash your stinky ass, then we'll talk.

Morgan: Whatever, you ignorant bitch.

Nikki: ok, bye

Morgan: bye

(about 3 hours later)

Morgan: I'm ironing my shirt, then I'll be at your house in 15 minutes

Nikki: Shit!

Morgan: What's wrong with you?

Nikki: I can't find my necklace.

Morgan: What necklace?

Nikki: My cute rinestone heart one.

Morgan: oh

Nikki: (continues to curse)

Morgan: (hangs up at some point)

Career Woman picks me up and we're on our way. We are so involed in conversation about our blog that we pass up the road to *******'* and had to take a slight detour. We are so cool.

When we got there, we ordered our drinks and then had a 25 minute conversation about whether or not we should eat meat. It is Friday, you know? I boasted about how I already had chicken today. Career woman recalls the pepperoni roll she had for lunch, but for some reason wants to get religous on me as we sit in a bar. We debate a few minutes longer. Career Woman orders the shrimp platter and a bowl of clam chowder. I had fried mushrooms. This will surely make up for the stupid drunk we will be later. We are such good little catholic girls! See you in heaven!

We joked. We laughed. We talked about OURSELVES. We ordered our second drink.

We ran into a dear old friend and reminisced about her notorious sleepovers. We now know the answer to a comment posted on our Remeber When post. Terry Berry! At this time the second drink officially kicked in. I actually offered my URL to an old friend as an avenue to keep in touch rather than the traditional offering of the phone number. This either means I have officially became technologically savvy or I inadvertently was screaming "I am such a dweeb!" Either way...she took it. Actually, I shoved it into her pocket for her. Whatever.

Now I'm home. I feel a little tired. I had to make a new post before I went to bed because Career Woman threatened my life. She told me I wasn't being a good Mommy to our blog because I only looked at it two times today. By the way, that is why she called me an ignorant bitch earlier. Not because I told her to wash her stinky ass. I still have not found my cute rinestone heart necklace.

Career Woman, here is my post for today. End Conversation.

-Housewife

Friday, February 25, 2005

My Daddy Loves Me

Okay, so I made the same mistake as Housewife. I gave the address to this website to my dad and he came up with a list, such as Bertha as to why it sucks to have ME back home. He is the cutest father on the face of this earth!

Here's his list:

10. The last time I had hot water was when I spilled coffee on myself - It sucks to have your kids back home.
9. I get "Thank You" cards from the electric company - It sucks to have your kids back home.
8. My big screen TV is used for chick flicks with Pumpkinface - It sucks to have your kids back home.
7. I get "Thank You" cards from Giant Eagle. - It sucks to have your kids back home.
6. If wet towels were money, I could pay for one wedding. - It sucks to have your kids back home.
5. I now know that my future son-in-law is a Saved by the Bell Groupie. - It sucks to have your kids back home.
4. If tampons were recyclable I could pay cash for all my kid's weddings. - It sucks to have your kids back home.
3. PMS takes on a whole new, frightening meaning. - It sucks to have your kids back home.
2. I have to guard my side of the garage again. - It sucks to have your kids back home.
1. When my poopie leaves, there is going to be a big gaping hole in my heart - LOVE YOU POOPERS!

He definately wins the CUTEST FATHER OF THE YEAR AWARD!!!

Hell Week 2/28-3/04

I never really understood why schools and their organizations, groups, etc. alway put students through such hell. This "hell" I'm referring to is...dum dum dum.... tryout week! My sister is trying out for the varsity cheerleading squad next week. She has been a cheerleader for the last four years, and last year she was captain of her JV squad, but this year is different. Alex is good, I will give her that, but she is the youngest, trying out against a group of girls - all in grades above her. Forget SAT's, graduation, LSATS, Counselor Examinations, tryout week is the most stressful week of MY life. That's right people, I said "MY" life!

I remember those days when I was still in high school. Housewife, I, and our other fellow "danceliners," would spend one week each year, not doing homework, not socializing with friends, boyfriends, etc., but busting our freakin' ass, pulling muscles, and dancing our little hearts away for hours upon hours each day. We didn't eat. We didn't drink. No people, we danced. We would use the bathroom pass at synchronized times so we could all meet in the girl's restroom to go over routines. We used gym class to practice instead of dodgeball, crab soccer or some other stupid shit like that to "keep us active." We didn't need a gymnasium agenda girls and boys, we had Danceline Tryouts! Practice. Practice. Practice. And let me tell all those "special people" out there who feel that "practice makes perfect," um... YEAH RIGHT! All the anticipation of that week would lead up to 3 little minutes in the gym on that hardwood floor in front of four judges, whom may I mind you, never, NEVER, cracked a smile. We would march our little butts to the other side of the divider, throw ourselves on the ground after we just tried out and cry because we "messed up here, and then I messed up there, and then I did the kick all wrong there, did you see me point my toe, do you think I pointed my toe pointy enough." And then our friends would console us and say "I know you made it. I didn't make it, but I know you did. Do you think I made it? Nooo, I know I didn't make it. But you definately made it. You're so good and I'm not that good!" Then we were forced to pry our lips out of, yes, I said out of, our gum because it was stuck there (remember Shanana from Martin...yup, you get the picture) from the ridiculous fake smile we had to place on our dry, dehydrated face. This is what tryouts did to us. And you know what baffles me, you try to convince yourself that if you did not make the squad, everything would be okay. NO IT WON'T BE OKAY KIDS, ALRIGHT?! You're life is ruined, RUINED! Luckily, I have never had to experience that, THANK THE LORD. But I have experienced the anticipation, and panic attacks at the age of 14, 15, 16, and 17- heart monitors at this age are just not right!

So next week leads up to D-Day. No, I'm not trying out, remember I'm old, but my sister is. Here is a scenario for what it has looked like in my house during this week for the last three years. Alex is picked up by my mother at Cheerleading tryout practice. Sometimes I go for the ride if I have cancelled all graduate classes for the week, because we all know that cheerleading is much more important than an education. We fight the whole way home because my sister feels as though just because she is cute, skinny, built, and just got her nails done, it is not that important that she remember everything that happened during practice because she believes she has ADD. Mind you, she is saying this to her obsessive, compulsive, perfect, anxious ridden, mother and sister. We scream for 10 minutes and then we arrive home. Alex is "hungryyyy," so she eats and I, a.k.a., whom will now be referred to as Drill Sergeant, does not let her digest her food. No. No. No people. We do not eat during tryout week. So we cheer (mind you I was never a cheerleader, but no disrespect to any of you cheerleader's out there,... not that hard! Point those toes, high V, low V, buckets, daggers, say your vowels, and put on the damn show and Viola - Cheerleader in 3.3. seconds!) If she messes up once, she gets a kick. She messes up twice, Drill Sergeant screams in her face so bad that sometimes, just sometimes, spit comes out and lands on her forehead. She messes up three times, Jesus have pity on her soul because this is where the obsessive, compulsive, perfect, anxious ridden mother steps in and we are typically seperated and no kidding ya'll, I am SENT to my room to "calm down and collect myself."

So not only, why do schools torture their students, why do they torture their older sisters and mothers who have to live and try to survive through the week with them without mental institution hospitalization? The same obsessive, compulsive, anxious ridden mothers and sisters who WILL KILL the judges if their daughters or sisters do not make the squad. Tryouts are cut-throat people and I will slit your throat!

So this is what you have to look forward to next week as new and exciting entries. Not only do you have cheerleading posts to look forward to, but my 11 year old brother has to try out for AAU basketball the same week. Have pity on our household, and don't forget my dad and fiance who have to put up with us ALLLL week long! I'll keep ya'll updated as to the process and the outcome of each evening spent CHEERING. 23 years old and cheering like a motha-f*cker! - Just call me Major Payne...only I'm cuter! :) Wish us luck!

-Career Woman

Thursday, February 24, 2005

Remember When...

No, this is not our lovely version of the hit Alan Jackson song, but it is a Career Woman and Housewife's version of the good 'ole days. Ya know what we're talkin' about? The days when you did not have a care in the world, other than what you were wearing to school the next day and who was going to be your ride to the next basketball game. Man, those were the days, weren't they?!

Housewife and I have decided to put together a list of particular Remember Whens. We are going to go back to those absolutely wonderful days at SHS back as far as we met in Mr. O's Social Studies class, when I, Career Woman, so graciously offered to take Nikki to her next class (she was lost...being a new student and all).

1. Remember when... Nikki was best friends with Monica Derosa? - whom is a stripper now, we do believe.
2. Remember when... Nikki and I were banned from being friends with Ryan because our parents thought he was crazy and homicidal? - all do to his letters that he'd write us during class about cutting off our legs and feeding them to our families.
3. Remember when... Me, Nikki, and MG came up with the ultimate commercial for Mr. O's class? "I don't want to grow up, because if I did, I couldn't be a Plants 'R Us Kid!"
4. Remember when... making those yarn bracelets during junior high were the best on the market during Science class?
5. Remember when... we went to dance camp for four years straight and me, Nikki, Alissa, and Aaryn all shared a room because Nikki and I had the coolest - whom in fact suffocated us with the Bengay being used all, and I mean ALL over our bodies!
6. Remember when... Jonquil was so fearful of the chicken patties at SRU's cafeteria that Nikki and I stole Chicken Patties from the headless men who worked there and put them in Jonquil's caboodle!
7. Remember when... Mark Gentsy named my leopard purse a not-so-nice name (a.k.a. p*ssy) and we made up nicknames for at least four people in our class all referring to genitals!
8. Remember when... Justin accused Rachel of eating "the food stuffs," during our mock trial? - Also do you remember how we lost - we weren't well liked! :)
9. Remember when... Ryan fell out of his chair during the mock trial and it was broadcasted over the school t.v.?
10. Remember when... Nikki picketed for a prom date at Duquesne University our senior year? Whom the person that offered, has turned out to be a serial killer - TRUE story!
11. Remember when... we would write poems/sonnets for all our enemies during study hall and of course Mr. O's class - they would have been published!
12. Remember when... Nikki made up her interview for her research report/presentation during Research with, should I say the name??? BILLIE P. RONDINELLI! (may I add that I scored an A- on that presentation...who's the fool?)
13. Remember when... Nikki was giving birth to Isabella, and Ryan, MG, Hasson, K.E. and me ran up to the hospital and I ran into a "certain someone" (wink wink) outside and proclaimed it to the maternity nursing staff during one of Nikki's contractions as she shouted "I don't give a f*ck!"
14. Remember when... We were at camp and we nicknamed a certain someone "Coochie Pants" - a million points to who can guess who that is!
15. Remember when... "Nothin', nothin', Now you're movin'!" was all we freakin' heard!
16. Remember when... Ladies Night, was the most popular song EVER!
17. Remember when... Jonquil watched Titanic, for the first time and had to go sit on the porch because she was so upset. "I'll never let go Jack, I'll never let go!"
18. Remember when... Morgan's mom got freaked by the man at Nikki's wedding, whom her dad nicknamed Robert Downey, Jr.?
19. Remember when... Michelle had to work and wouldn't go to Quaker Steak and Lube with us on our normal "All you can eat wings night," and we left eaten chicken bones on her car outside Giant Eagle.
20. Remember when... Me, Nikki, and Michelle would do anything to please Mr. McNees, so we sat in the first three seats in the front of the room and answered EVERY question possible so much that he had to ask us multiple times to "please put your hands down!"
21. Remember when... Kristin passed out like a billion times in the hallway as SHS?
22. Remember when... Eddie made something very funny and gross out of a paper towel holder in Social Studies in reference to me and I hated Nikki for 45 minutes because I thought they were making fun of me!
23. Remember when... Hasson was so obsessed with Dawson's Creek, Ryan dubbed her the nickname of DCF (a.k.a. Dawson's Creek Freak).
24. Remember when... Ryan stole all of the "Lawrence County Dog Show" Signs on Senior Hook-Out Day.
25. Remember when... The Pittsburgh Pirate Parrot regurgatated Michelle's head.


If you feel as though there are some Remember Whens we may have forgotten, please comment!

Wednesday, February 23, 2005

The 2 Blogger Preventers!


As a special request for Kpac4smiles...I give you Sophia and Isabella! Posted by Hello

Tuesday, February 22, 2005

OOPS...I GOT CAUGHT!

(Please refer to It Sucks to be Back Home Part II)
Probably my mistake. I gave my mother the address for this site and she in turn gave me a list of reasons why: IT SUCKS TO HAVE YOUR KIDS BACK HOME!

Her list read as follows:

10.) yes, we have had a few fights since you've been here and we will continue to have them until you realize that I brought you into this world and I can take you out of it. IT SUCKS TO HAVE YOUR KIDS BACK HOME!

9.) yes, there are fights for the internet every night, there are other people in this house that need to use the computer...How can a Housewife effectively raise her children when she is blogging? IT SUCKS TO HAVE YOUR KIDS BACK HOME!

8.) yes, your children go by the basement steps and I scream for you to remove them. But, you don't have to worry. Instead of bringing your dirty laundry down to the washing machine, the steps are well padded with them. IT SUCKS TO HAVE YOUR KIDS BACK HOME!

7.) yes, I do give your children popsicle when they are bad. I earned that right when your grandmother gave them to you for biting your cousins. IT SUCKS TO HAVE YOUR KIDS BACK HOME!

6.) yes, the girls do like to sleep in my bed when they are here. That is because their mother never goes to bed, she is too busy blogging. IT SUCKS TO HAVE YOUR KIDS BACK HOME!

5.) yes, I do ask you who was on the phone, only because I assume it was something drastically important due to the fact that it has rang for you at my house about 25 times in the last hour even though you were talking to someone else on your cell phone. IT SUCKS TO HAVE YOUR KIDS BACK HOME!

4.) yes, it is necessary to scream in this house. It is the only way I can get your attention unless I call from a pay phone. IT SUCKS TO HAVE YOUR KIDS BACK HOME!

3.) yes, there is only one bathroom in this house and it is full of the Housewife's clothes, makeup, towels, etc. You get the picture. IT SUCKS TO HAVE YOUR KIDS BACK HOME!

2.) I could give the Housewife a few choice suggestions for a new name. But, I don't have to worry about not knowing what she changed it to. A couple of days after she goes back to Boston, the phone will ring. She will need me. They always need Mom, no matter how much they complain. IT SUCKS TO HAVE YOUR KIDS BACK HOME!

1.) And the number one reason IT SUCKS TO HAVE YOUR KIDS BACK HOME is: you realize just how empty the house it without them, when they're gone. IT SUCKS TO HAVE YOUR KIDS BACK HOME!

It Sucks to be Back Home!

As most of you know, I, Career Woman have moved back into my 'rents bungalow. Due to the fact that we are trying to save for a wedding, I have decided to move back home and save some dough for our big hoopla and future together! When I went away to Duquesne, I lived there for four years with my wonderful roommates (big Ups to Car, D, and Kristin), then I moved back home for a year then moved in with K.E. down Gram's! That was fun. Then we had the flood of 2004 and had to relocate so K.E. and I moved into Housewife's home while she was living in Boston. Fun Fun Fun. Although I did not sleep there often, I spent most of my night's at Pumpkinface's house, we had a good time. It was our own little house and boy did we begin to feel responsible. Then Pumpkinface popped the question and that frivilous spending we all love so much, went, whoop, right out the window. So I am back at home with my awesome Mom and Dad and the spawns of satan - a.k.a. Alex and Pooh.

Below is a list of my top ten reasons that living at home SUCKS major MAJOR ass!
10. You are required to join in on family days once a week with your new fiance, b/c "that's how Italians do it!, and my house, my rules." - it sucks to be back home!
9. You get to hear those ever-loving sentences that begin with "As long as you are living under my roof...." - it sucks to be back home!
8. Sleeping in is barely possible, because with a house full of teenagers and elementary schoolers, honestly who sleeps in? - it sucks to be back home!
7. When you go to answer the house phone, sure it is for you, you hear "hello multiplied by 4" on the other phone in the house, determined that this call must be for them and not you b/c "you are ALWAYS on your cell phone!" - it sucks to be back home!
6. You can only imagine how many times your mother says your name when you move back in, it's enough to make you want to change it!- it sucks to be back home!
5. When you walk out the door and hear "Where are you going?" - ugh, is nothing a secret anymore? -it sucks to be back home!
4. When you walk out of the house and hear "What time do you think you will be home?" -nothing is obviously a secret anymore! -it sucks to be back home!
3. After a long night of heavy drinking with the gang, and you have to go to use one of the four, count them people, 1-2-3-4 bathrooms in your house, every freakin' one is full! - it sucks to be back home!
2. When you stumble up the stairs to your bedroom and your mother walks out of her room and says "Drunk again?" - it sucks to be back home!
1. When your mother says, "You are NOT, I repeat, NOT, leaving this house until your room is clean" - it sucks to be back home!

I love them mad, peeps, but sometimes a girl, or a 23 year old woman needs her privacy. Mad shout outs to ma and pa for supplyin' the grub though, mmmm mmm cause you all know this girl lovessss to eat!

It Sucks to be Back Home Part II

TWO WEEKS DOWN, ONE TO GO

So my daughters and I are spending 3 weeks with my Mom and Dad in New Castle. Why? Well, Big Daddy has to do business stuff in Virginia and he didn't want me to be alone in Boston, all that time. What a sarcasticly brilliant idea it was to drop me and the girls off at my parents for a WAY TOO LONG visit. Big Daddy, I know your reading this...HELP...I don't know how much longer I can hang on!

I'd like to present to you the top 10 reasons it sucks for me to be back home:

10.) I am no longer the only Housewife under one roof. This is a set up for a domestic disaster. There has already been several estrogen-spittin'-I have to have the last word in-I'm always right-bitch fights and several more are scheduled to take place over the next week. IT SUCKS TO BE BACK HOME!

9.) I have to fight my sister and my dad for usage of the internet every single evening...how's a girl supposed to effectively blog under these conditions? IT SUCKS TO BE BACK HOME!

8.) Once I do get a crack at the ole' keyboard...Someone is screaming for me to please remove my children from either, a)the top of the kitchen table, b)the basement steps ,or c) each other.
IT SUCKS TO NO LONGER BE IN A CHILDPROOF HOME, AND OF COURSE, IT SUCKS TO BE BACK HOME!

7.) Apparently it makes no difference what so ever that I gave birth to these two girls because, it is completely irrelevant that I am their mother when I'm anywhere near their grandparents. Do not hug my children and give them popsicles when I'm trying to correct them for, a) standing on your kitchen table, b)pushing each other down your steps, and c)performing as the WWF divas that just won the heavyweight title! IT SUCKS TO BE BACK HOME!

6.) As if it isn't bad enough that I have to sleep without Big Daddy by my side, I am forced to share a twin size pull out bed with 2 toddlers that cannot decide if they want to sleep with me or my mother because this somehow became an option for them during our time here. IT SUCKS TO BE BACK HOME!

5.) every time I get off the phone it is promptly followed by my mother asking "Who was that, what did they want?" IT SUCKS TO BE BACK HOME!

4.) For some reason every person in this household finds it necessary to scream at the top of their lungs during normal conversation to the person sitting right next to them! IT SUCKS TO BE BACK HOME!

3.) Currently there are 6 people trying to function in this household and there is only ONE bathroom. And yes I did double-count just to make sure, and YES, there is only one bathroom. IT SUCKS TO BE BACK HOME!

2.) I am going to change my name. I am not going to tell my mother what I changed it to. I refuse to listen to her calling me away from what ever it is I'm trying to do, just to have her say something to me like..."my nose is itchy." IT SUCKS TO BE BACK HOME!

And the number one reason it sucks to be back home is...I have another week of this insanity left! IT SUCKS TO BE BACK HOME!

Monday, February 21, 2005

Open Letter to our Anonymous Reader

It looks like I'm going to have to step up to the plate here! First of all, Anonymous Reader, you must care more than you think you do since you keep coming back to this site to read what we have to say. Even more so, you obviously cared to hear about us in the first place, because you took the time to come to our site...when you were not even invited here! Therefore it has become evident that someone who "we thought was our friend" is also your friend. And this so called person, knew (as your friend) that "you did in fact care to know about Morgan's business", that is why they directed you to our site. You in turn, cared so much about her business that you took the time to read all about us! Hmmm, that would make YOU a "web blogger reader" that you seem to think your so much above! Also for your information, the reason we started this blog was to have a way to keep in touch with all of our "simple minded friends" that are somehow so simple minded that they now have really good careers and are now living in different parts of the country. It was not meant for you to read. But we have learned a thing or two about YOU through all this is: 1) you are so insanely jealous of Morgan that you can't see straight! 2) you are not woman enough to put your name behind your beliefs 3) you like to stick your nose in places that you don't belong .....gee, to me that sounds like a person that wouldn't be worth the flesh they were built in. so why don't you - "GET REAL"
- HOUSEWIFE

To The Obviously Ugly Anonymous Person

Dear "I'm too afraid to post my name because Im sure those girls will know who I am...and I am, in fact, ugly":

It has come to our attention that we have a very rude, un-sarcastic, pitiful, ugly themselves viewer out there. I am sorry that you do not know us well enough to know that the "pretty" thing is a joke, although WE ARE. If we are correct about who posted this (which we in fact think that we are) you got this website from someone mistakenly...whom we sent the site to mistakenly who has serious, SERIOUS jealousy issues. Don't try and rain on our parade, you, little girl, don't bother us. Luckily enough, our husband and fiance, happen to find us to be the most beautiful girls you would ever see in your lifetime and that's all that matters. Too bad for you. If you read our post at all, ass-hat minion, you would see that we talk about other things. We apologize if your jealousy issues have drawn your attention to only our beauty. If you would so kindly do as your mama taught you and if you don't have anything nice to say, don't say it at all, we would greatly appreciate it. Little girls are not amusing to us or our friendly readers, but lucky for you, you learned how to post! YEY! And if you were confused, you are able to place your name - anonymous is not necessary... "im-too-afraid-to-post-my-name- because-im-sure-those-girls-will-know-who-i-am-and-i-am-in-fact-ugly" should suffice. Thank you for your time and concern, but I think we are doing alright on our own!

Our Deepest Sympathies go out to you, AND your friends,
A Career Woman and a Housewife

Saturday, February 19, 2005

Come on People...Give Us A Break!


This is us! Sorry that this is not in our profile but we have no idea how to get it there, any help? Mirella? Are you there, you are our only reader? Mirella, please tell us that you're there, if you're not, we are blogging for no reason. We see that you have us under link love but this is obvisiously not good enough, we need better advertisement. We sent an e-mail to our friends, thinking they would be thrilled to read about our lives, apparently they are not. As far as we know, Mirella, you are the only person who cares to hear about us. Perhaps our other friends did check out our blog, but they were too stupid to figure out how to post a comment. We are depressed! We look at our blog about every 5 minutes of our pathetic day and we got nothin', NOTHIN'! That's it...we've had it...we are sending out another e-mail to our stupid friends, DEMANDING THEM TO POST A COMMENT! If they fail to do so...well then...then we'll uh...we'll just .....have to send ANOTHER e-mail. I know, we are THAT mean!
~The above picture is of Career Woman and Housewife on our way to Buffett. Posted by Hello

Career Woman and her Hard Workin' Man


Ok, so we havn't quite figured out how to get the pictures into the post that want them in, so we have to add the pictures as a new post. So just pretend that this picture is attatched to the The Proposal post. This is Pumpkinface. Posted by Hello

How Big Daddy Got His Name!

Dear fellow bloggers,

For some reason, my little housewife neglected to inform all how Big Daddy was crowned "Big Daddy." You see, for as long as Nikki has known Big Daddy, I have known Big Daddy as well. I witnessed Nikki's lust all through high school over him and I also shared in their wedding day. I have always been close to John (Big Daddy) since Nikki and him got married. I am the God Mother to their beautiful baby girl Isabella and I am their best friend - both of them, :). The reason John got dubbed Big Daddy was for various reasons. First off, I had a slight obsession with the morning talk show - Regis and Kelly. Kelly always referred to Regis as her "Big Daddy," because she loved him a platonic short of way - Kelly's married, kids of her own, but she loves her Big Daddy. I am a lot like Kelly if I do say so myself - pretty, skinny (not so much anymore), nice dresser, and in a relationship - (remember Pumpkinface? - love him, I think we need a picture of him). I look up to John as a father figure for me the way Kelly does to Regis and thought that that would be a good name for John. As I mentioned, he is like a protector me, such as sometimes I have to stay at their house and I sleep in their bed and they sleep on the floor when I've had too much to drink. Only a Big Daddy would let their wife's best friend sleep in his bed while he takes the floor. I also almost choked on my vomit that night, who saved me? Big Daddy, only a "big daddy," would save his wife's best friend from choking on her own vomit. How did I get into that bed may you ask? Big Daddy carried me out of a car, up a steep STEEP (anyone whom has been at Nik's house in New Castle knows what this girl is talking about) staircase and tossed me, ever so gently I hear, on the bed. Big Daddy wiped my mouth off as I threw up, and cleaned up the vomit in which I rested my head for the night! Only a "big daddy" would clean up his wife's best friend's vomit out of her hair and wipe her mouth off.

Here is just a little, tiny brief overview of how Big Daddy got his name. We love him! You should meet him!

Friday, February 18, 2005

Meet Big Daddy

Posted by Hello
~Hello everyone! As you know I am Housewife and in order to be a housewife, you of course have to be a wife! So I'd like to introduce you to the man that has made this all possible, my husband John, aka Big Daddy! Big Daddy, take a bow. Thank You.
~Most of you all know me, but for those of you that don't and just want to come to our site to see the pretty girls(and I don't blame you, because WE ARE PRETTY), I'll get you all caught up to this point.
~I met Big Daddy when I was in 10th grade. Big Daddy was a senior at a different school - same town. (I'll save the cute story of how we met for a different post - different time.) I'll leave out the really dramatic, drawn out story that should be inserted...riiiiiight abooooout...NOW... And just say that Big Daddy went off to the Army, out of arms reach but NEVER far from my mind. We ended up in different relationships and lost touch.
~About three years later as I sit in my dorm room at 4:00a.m. entertaining my roomate's overnight guest because she fell asleep and he liked to talk, a lot, and I couldn't sleep with a strange man in our room, I decided to strike up some conversation with him.

Housewife: So, Ronnie...whereyafrom?

Ronnie: New Castle

Housewife: (gasp) hmmm, me too....where'dyagotoschool?

Ronnie: Union

Housewife: (bigger gasp) hmmmmm, I know some people from Union. Do know Big Daddy? (ok, I didn't really say Big Daddy, but ya know.)

Ronnie: Oh yeah! I grew up right next to him, my back yard and his front yard meet!

Housewife: (gasp so big, I nearly lost my breath) REALLY? (THIS IS EFFING FATE!!!! ok, Nikki, here's your chance...squeeze him like an orange in a juicer until he squirts out every little bit of information you've been longing to know about Big Daddy) Hmmm, is he still in the Army?

Ronnie: Yep, his mom just told my mom the other day that he might be getting out in a few months...he is stationed in Hawaii, ya know.

Housewife: Ya don't say...(OMG, I don't believe this! Is this really happening? Big Daddy, Big Daddy Big Daddy!!!!! AAAHHHHH)

~Alright, so we all have our moments of weekness....I jumped out of my bed - onto the floor next to a total stranger- completely spilled my guts about how in love with Big Daddy I am-basically begged him to call Big Daddy's house and get some sort of contact information for him-followed Ronnie around campus that whole afternoon,making sure he did not forget to call-jumped for joy and hugged and kissed him when he delivered to me that glorious e-mail address for Big Daddy!
~It turns out Big Daddy was just as excited to hear from me as I was to have found out how to contact him. We kept in touch over the phone (waking each other up at odd times of the night.Damn that 6 hour time difference) for the next 4 months...longing to see each other again.
The day finally came and we made arrangements for me to pick him up at the Pittsburgh International Airport on March 31st 2000!
~Like a perfect scene on a movie screen, (words from "our song"- a billion points for the person who can tell what song it is - nothin' like a little trivia) we reunited at the terminal. Go ahead, picture it...nervous housewife pacing back and forth wondering if he'll recognize me. Big Daddy, just as nervous (he swears they let him off the plane last, on purpose.) The plane is unloading, passengers are fighting through the crowd trying to find their loved ones. We spot each other, at the same exact time, our eyes lock together. (que in sappy soap opera music) Our arms open wide, we run toward each other in slow motion, tight embrace, I'm spinning around with my feet off the ground...it felt so right! AAAAhhhhh...I love to re-live that moment!
~So we get married exactly one year later on March 31st 2001... I know, it's too cute! Over the course of the next 3 years...We have 2 children that we are raising in our own home, in our hometown, we both have really good jobs, life is grand. Dum, Dum, Dum....Big Daddy gets a once in a lifetime job opportunity that would provide enough money for me to quit my job and really raise my kids and truly become...THE HOUSEWIFE. One itty bitty catch...it's in Boston!
~So after weeks of hell trying to come to the right decision...we decide we can't pass up this chance and if all else fails we'll still have each other. So the picture above was taken at the Jimmy Buffett concert in Pittsburgh 3 days before our big move to Boston. We've lived there for about 5 months now and no I don't "Pahk my cah in the yahd at Hahvahd"
~There you have it...why Housewife lives in Massachusetts...why I am Housewife and most importantly you have met Big Daddy. Thank you. Goodbye.

Nikki: Morgan, you are not aloud to play the trivia game, I know you know our song, but I will give a billion points to you anyways, just for being pretty!

The Proposal

As most of you know, I am ENGAGED! That's right ladies and gentleman, I am getting married. Not only am I getting married, but I am marrying the LOVE OF MY LIFE. Housewife can vouge for this...right Nik? Anyways, I thought that I would tell all our readers the story of the proposal. For those of you who know me, the events won't come as much of a surprise and while you're reading this, please don't think of me as a royal beyatch, wait... nevermind, yep I am!

Well again, for those of you who know me, you already know that I have been in love with Eddie for my ENTIRE life and if you don't - I have been in love with Eddie for my entire life. We went to high school together and were pretty good friends. Housewife and I always secretly lusted after him which we later found out to not be much of a secret, but we did and he LOVED it. Eddie and I had a few go-arounds of a relationship throughout our college years, but we finally fell in love over our Easter break, back in that wonderful town of New Castle, PA and the rest is history. I won't bore you all again with the story of our relationship, because the only people probably reading this are the people whom have listened in on my hour upon hour conversations about my little Pumpkinface (that's his nickname...he's actually grown to love it). Also, if you have viewed my wedding website on theknot.com, you know this story, but continue on... I've added some for the sake of my loyal followers. So, I'll begin this post with my proposal - try not to cry....okay go ahead cry, he loves me!

For the two weeks leading up to Christmas, Pumpkinface played the card of having no idea what to get me for Christmas. I, of course, gave him a lot of ideas consisting of: a new puppy (that was a "no") (very important part of the story, please remember this), a new watch, and a nice new pair of white gold/platinum earrings...with diamonds of course. He took his "mama," as he refers to her up to the jewelry store to supposedly pick me out two of the things I had written on my christmas list to Jolly St. Eddie, oops, I mean Pumpkinface.

So Pumpkinface just called, he says he won't give a speech at our engagement party in two weeks. He is no-longer Pumpkinface.

Eddie and his mom came up with a little ploy, if you will, for him to take me to the jewelry store to pick from a few watches because he decided that there were too many for him to choose from. Then he would see if I went towards the rings. Being the typical girl, I glanced at those rings from across the room as if not to scare him off if I ran over there, but much to my surprise, he inferred we go check out the rings. So we did, and he said that it would be good for "future reference," if I told him the type of ring I wanted therefore, I explained: "I want a big ass ring, princess cut, white-gold or platinum with baggets (sp)."

I thought it was a gracious offer to want to find out my "style," but I also found it to be sligthly torturing because I never thought he wanted to spring for a ring this soon! Well apparently he did! We left the jewelry store, me, pretending as though I had totally forgotten what had just happen, but inside, dying - DYING I tell you with desire to have a ring for Christmas.

We had to go up to the Grove City Outlets to do some shopping (little shout-out to K.E. for she used to be the marketing manager there, now she's in Atlanta....getting off track, stay with it Morgan). Eddie wanted to go to the jewelry store up there! This is where I started getting a little pissed. "Stop torturing me!," I yelled. He laughed. And then continued torturing me. He decided that he liked the $129.99 ring (here, I almost pooped my pants.... is he serious?), but then I realized it didn't matter because I wasn't getting ANYTHING anyways.

Pumpkinface just called, awe he loves me, back to Pumpkinface!

So we went home later that night. I took a little nap and over heard him and his mom talking. Pumpkinface was very forward in discussing getting engaged with me and making it out to be a joke. He would ask me my ring size, and "what type did you want again?" And my responses would always be the same, "shut up, you're an asshole." He knew that if he kept talking about a ring, I would never think that I was getting one... Good Job Pumpkinface.

On Christmas Eve, I got dressed and went down his house because we had a lot of running around to do. (ah the joys of being in a relationship for the holidays!) I went down his house around 2 or so and was wondering why most of his family members were down there so early. I was in a bad mood, of course (doesn't that always happen and make you feel like an ass), and Pumpkinface made a comment about the belt I had on with my pants. I snapped, just a little and he looked like he didn't know what hit him, and then he said that he bought me a puppy! I began to cheer up but implied that he was lying. He told me to go look in his closet it was in there. I stomped in his room, knowing there was not going to be a puppy, but desperately hoping so. I went in his room and in his Mariah Carey-Style walk-in closet was a big box in the shape of a house with little snow on the roof, santa clause, the whole christmas nine yards. Let me tell you that this box definately could have held a pup! But the box wasn't moving. Uh oh, I think he killed the puppy. I said "Pumpkinface, if you got me a puppy, you freakin' suffocated it because the box is not moving." He used his patient i'd-like-to-kill-you-but-i-won't tone with me and said "Baby, just open the box." So I did, low and behold, there was a puppy, but it wasn't real. I reminded him of this and he asked me to take it out of the box. I took it out and it was wrapped in a blanket, I unwrapped the blanket and there was a big red bow tied around it's collar, on the bow, was my RING, my HUGE ASS, MOST BEAUTIFUL RING, FOR THE MOST BEAUTIFUL PERSON RING with everything that I wanted and more. My mouth dropped open and I think my exactly words were "Shut up! Are you kidding me?! If this is a joke, it is a really mean joke!" He asked me to press the paw... Guess what it did?! It danced and sang to "My Girl" by the Temptations - I love those damn Temptations and I love that damn song! I turned around, he got down on one knee and said the four most beautiful words I have ever heard thus far in my life "Will you marry me?" OH MY GOD I LOVE THIS MAN! I said "YES!" and we hugged and kissed and called my mom and told his mom and then started planning from that moment! I also make him practice his vows weekly! We're in love!

I hope you have all enjoyed the story of my proposal. For those of you who know me, this is my dream come true. I think I can do a damn commercial for Disney World or something! I'll keep you all updated on the wedding plans!

Morgan: Nikki, um, I love him!

Thursday, February 17, 2005

Blogger Dictionary Anyone???

So apparently I am the career woman, and in being the career woman, you would think that I would know a little something about technology...right? Well that's what we thought too, until we decided to "post." Could somebody out there in this "blogger community," please explain to us, (or moreso, me, Career Woman) what exactly is an "opening tag" and a "closing tag." And what the hell could we have possible done that made them not match (so says the "html" God of blogging)?!?!

Apparently, the two of us, Housewife and Career Woman are tired from our long days. We have posted our first posts EVER, yay us! In the midst of creating this site, we have shared a desk chair, a little laptop that has caused our fingers to perspirate on the keys and "mouse" (or lack thereof) while feeding sugar, and more sugar (i.e. pixie sticks) to a 3 and 1 year old, and trampling on half-eaten pretzels and fruity pebbles. In conclusion, anyone out there whom comes acrossed our blog, could you please comment on blog terms, so that our next post may be easier than the first three.

Morgan: Nikki, do you think people will actually read this shit?

Nikki: Of course...wait until they see our pictures...Not only are we funny, smart, talented, and witty, but we ARE pretty TOO!

Welcome, Mammoth Zit

Hello Mammoth Zit,
I wish I could say it is a pleasure to see you again, but I would be lying. However, I have decided to kill you with kindness, for I have cursed you many times before but you still come back. Using Career Woman's counseling techniques, I have decided to try reverse psychology.
First I would like to thank you for positioning yourself on the side of my face. This is much more acceptable than on the tip of my nose so that I can look forward to guiding the sleigh tonight or in the middle of my forehead (curiously, exactly between my eyes) so that I look like a three-eyed monster straight out of a f-ing greek myth.
Not to discourage you from the kindness you have already shown me, Mammoth Zit, but I was hoping we could come to a compromise about how you will appear the next time you will for surely grace me with your presence. Instead of blind siding me through the night, unannounced and rudely unwelcome, Mammoth Zit, you leave me defenseless. Perhaps you could start off slowly... as a small discoloration or blemish if you will. Give me a chance to attack you with a dollop of clearasil or a strong astringent before you develop into Mt. Everest. This courtesy would be greatly appreciated. In return, I will promise not to call you dirty names and squeeze the living hell out you.
As I have told you before, Mammoth Zit, I somewhat understood you when I was an adolescent. Though I did not like you, I tolerated your misbehavior. I would let it slide now and then when you invited your cousins Pimple and Blackhead over for a visit. I cancelled plans and refused to go to school when The Acne Family Reunion would gather on my face. That was then and this is NOW, Mammoth Zit. I am 24 years old and I no longer have the patience for you. You ruin my day and stomp on my self confidence. Damn you.
I would appreciate a quick demise, for my children are no longer taking me seriously and my husband thinks that he has married a 13-year-old. You, Mammoth Zit, have become a push-button in the game of "Let's Make Mommy's Eyes Water" and the road block of my sex life...I DO NOT FEEL SEXY WHEN YOU ARE AROUND! (please look forward to a letter from my husband). You are the epitome of my embarrassment.
Sincerely,
Housewife

Nikki: Morgan, all of our (as of right now, non-existent) readers, that don't know me, think I am a crater-face.

Morgan: (after I corrected Nikki's spelling on 4 words of that last sentence) No they won't.

Nikki: (that is why I need Career Woman in my life) I'll just post pics of us so they can see how pretty we are.

Morgan: Okay! ... We are pretty!


To go to school or to create a blog, that is the question

Morgan: Nikki, should I not go to school tonight so that we can create a blog?

Nikki: Um yah, don't go to school, school sucks, I already started a post about my mammoth zit on my face.

(5 hours later)

Morgan: Nikki, I emailed my professor and told her that I was so weak that I thought that if I got out of my chair, I'd fall flat on my face. Do you think she bought it?

Nikki: Good Job! Who cares? Just don't go, k?

Morgan: Alright, I'll let you know what she says.

(1 hour later)

Morgan: Nikki, I'm not going to class.

(20 minutes laters)

Morgan: Should I go?

Nikki: No.

Morgan: OK, does the water run at your house?

Nikki: Uh, yah, why?

Morgan: Good (whispering) I have to poop.

Nikki: Of course you do, come over, but bang on the door loud, cause I'm deaf and the door is locked because I live in the ghetto.

Morgan: Alright, see ya in 5!