- We had a family dog named Bob. He was an Old English Sheepdog and according to our dad he was dumber than a box of rocks. And not just dumb but also able to hold a pretty intense grudge. When I was about four years old I opted to jump over Bob while he lie sprawled across the kitchen floor. It was time for bed and I wanted to give my grandmother a kiss who happened to be on the other side of the room. My jump landed short. I landed right on Bob’s big huge bald balls and that my friends was the end of our friendly relationship. My memory of what happened next is a bit blurred but I do recall hearing a very high pitched dog scream. I remember being chased ferociously by Bob, my father swooping me up and the next thing I remember is being treated by a doctor for a dog bite to my face. Bob remained a Massarella family pet until he bit me twice more (arm and stomach). Yeah. And then my parents threw his ass out and we were told he went to live on a farm or something. A few weeks after he was evicted I went to spend the weekend at my grandmother’s and while I was there I opened the basement door because all of our toys were down there and guess who was staring back at me, growling, drooling and baring his teeth? Bob. They gave the Nicole-eating dog to my favorite grandma.
- I am admittedly not the best student brought up in the Massarella household. I will go ahead and blame all of that on my learning disabilities, ADHD and love for socializing. I was, however, an exceptional tester. I scored a pretty impressive 32 on my ACT. Too bad I didn’t need to try that hard because they didn’t ask me for my score to get into beauty school
- Back in 2004, my two best friends and I decided to take a trip of a lifetime to Italy. We began our almost month long trip in Venice where we dove straight into the culture. Literally. After a fun filled, long ass night of drinking vino I shocked everyone, including myself, by doing a cannonball into the Grand Canal. I was wearing a cute little dress. I almost passed away from an awful high fever and intestinal upset which I got from what I found out is one of the filthiest bodies of water in the world. I am happy to still be here with all of you.
- I attended parochial school from kindergarten to 8th grade. Loved it. It was very small and structured. I knew every person in my class quite well along with their families. Once it was time for high school my parents sent my older sister and I to the local public school. Let’s just say the adjustment for me was a bit more difficult than it was for Michelle. Every time I did anything that would remotely disturb my parents I was threatened with attending an all girls catholic high school as punishment. I didn’t believe them and I wasn’t scared. Well, to no one’s surprise I was shipped off to an all girls Catholic High School my second year as punishment. And punishment it was not! I frigging loved it! And just for the record that was not my graduating high school. Ugh. I attended a few of them, ok?
- Later in 2004 I traveled back to Italy for Christmas with my entire family to visit our extended family who live just outside of Rome. I had a history of anxiety my whole life but had never actually had a panic attack. There were a plethora of things that were going on at the time that could have heightened my anxiety so made sense that I had the first of many panic attacks while on that trip. What makes this panic attack the worst panic attack ever was the time and location of it. We were visiting the Vatican two days before Christmas. You can imagine the frigging crowd. While waiting in line IN THE CATACOMBS in the basement of the Vatican FOR AN HOUR I had my first full blown panic attack and there was No. Way. Out. From that point forward I have had a bit of an issue with tight, crowded spaces.
- I was almost kidnapped. And when I say almost I mean I lied about the whole thing so I could go back to the park with my friends. See, my mom and my sisters, brother and some friends were at the park in our neighborhood. I was up to my same old monkey business and my mom had had about enough and sent my ass home on my banana seat. I rode home safely on my banana seat and came up with this brilliant, foolproof plan to get my ass back to the park with the rest of my pals to play. I whipped that bike around and rode like the dickens back to the park. I explained to my mom that the old man at the end of our block tried to throw me in his station wagon. My mom did what all moms would do and called 911. Not part of my plan. The police came to question me, surely didn’t believe my tale especially since they went to the old man’s house and his car was cold and hadn’t been started all day. I stuck to my story and finally admitted my lie a few years back to my siblings and childhood friends who lived on our block. I still feel like an asshole to this day.
- My moms best friend took me (I was probably 4 or 5) and her kids to a store one day. I was swinging around the rail that separated the cashiers aisles and BOOM. I landed smack on the back of my head on the rock hard cement floor. I guess I have a hard head because I surprisingly didn’t crack my head open and from the looks of it I was fine. I was coherent and alert. One small problem. My mom’s BF didn’t realize anything at first until we were driving home and I seemed odd. She asked me what kind of necklace she was wearing and when I responded “I don’t know. I can’t see anything” she pretty much went straight into cardiac arrest. I WAS BLIND! I spent a handful of days in a crib in the hospital until the bumps swelling inside my head that hit my optical nerve went down and my sight came back.
- I was somewhat of a talented young lady, if I do say so myself. I was a gifted flautist, diver, and soccer player. I was a completive soccer player from 4 until 17 and had the nickname of “Iron Foot” which Michelle is convinced I gave myself which could very well be true but I like to think my coaches on our traveling soccer team gave me the name because I could kick a ball clear across the field. I also dove competitively from age 5-17. I absolutely LOVED diving and was quite talented at it. I had big hopes and dreams to compete collegiately and was being scouted by a bunch of really great schools. I eventually gave it up when I decided to not continue to college directly after high school. My parents were so proud.
- I have an affinity for disguises. Mustaches mostly. Drawn on mustaches to be exact. I am unsure why that is my go-to disguise but it is. I have worn a drawn on mustache to many different occasions. You name it. I have worn them on my birthday, on Christmas, get togethers, just for fun while alone, while traveling, on planes, on a bike, on a train, to hold up my favorite local 7/11, but my favorite mustache-wearing adventure of all time took place about fifteen years ago. My best friend had to do nothing to convince me to stalk her boyfriend who she feared was being a creep. I opted for my “go-to” drawn on mustache and if I recall correctly a sombrero too. We managed to enter his building and do our undercover work without looking suspicious or being noticed. We were just about out of that joint scot-free until we got stuck in the elevator. Busted.
Make sure to learn a bunch of cool ass shit you don’t know about Michelle and Lauren as well!