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 Weekdays 2-7P
I'm from Texas, but have never said yee-haw. I lived in Indianapolis for five years, but never grew to like the Indy 500. I lived in Vail, Colorado for one year, but never skied. I'm somewhat of a gamer, and even though I don't really look like I could rule a hood in San Andreas, I rock a Micro SMG at hitman level. I have a deep affection for otters and all things Gidget. I hate Lifetime TV on principle, yet often find myself physically unable to change the channel. I take Winnie the Pooh gummy vitamins and wear Curious George band-aids. I dig raunchy comedies - particularly when they star Will Ferrell and/or Vince Vaughn. I wear nine rings. (On my fingers.) I have a twelve pound dog with the face of an angel, and the disposition of Satan. I love that stupid mutt to an embarrassing degree. And, even though I've worked in radio for more than ten years, I still have no idea what I want to be when I grow up.
Email me at mysti@939kissfm.com! (If you don't, I'll be sad. And then I'll have to take it out on Dave Kent. And then he'll cry. And how could you live with yourself then?!)
Linkage:
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IDLYITW
GFY
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The Superficial
(Chick)
Pamie
Dooce
Jennifer Weiner
(Fad)
Facebook
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Sale or Fail?
ARDELL BROW /LASH ACCELERATOR
A few weeks ago, I woke up, showered, and went to apply my makeup as usual. When I broke out the mascara and eyelash curler, though, I quickly discovered that a patch of lashes had gone missing from my left eye. I checked the curler thoroughly to be sure that I hadn't carelessly ripped them out, myself, but there was no trace of them. I managed to disguise the problem with mascara the first day, but by two, there were even more missing, and my only choice was to forego the mascara entirely.
I still couldn't begin to tell you what it was that caused the lashes to jump ship in the first place. I've read about everything from a condition called madarosis to a subconscious self-tugging on one's own eyelashes - generally, a reaction to extreme amounts of stress (I do work with all men, so this is a possibility, even though I don't recall ever having tugged on my lashes).
What's done is done, and I can't bring my beloved lashes back. I have been on he hunt for a remedy, though. After exploring some of the more expensive options online (like Revitalash, which reviews indicate is not worth it's $100+ price tag, and burns like all hell to boot!), I decided to start with a less pricey eyelash serum. I spotted Ardell Brow & Lash Growth Accelerator while at Ulta, and snatched it up. It only set me back $4.95, and not an entire cell phone bill, so I figured that, at the worst, I lose a 5-spot and see no significant change in my diminished lashes. Once I got home, I jumped online to read some reviews, wrongly assuming that they would be poor. Most of the responses were overwhelmingly positive, with many of the women seeing results in as little as one week.
I've been using the Ardell Growth Accelerator for almost a week, now, and I have to confess that I've seen a small change in the length and fullness of my lashes. (I'm only using it on the affected eye, and my sad excuse for lower lashes on both eyes.) Hopefully, by the end of August, my mascara and I will be friends again!
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Oblivion and the Male Mentality
Thursday 08-14-2008 4:08pm ET
There are certain things about being a woman that men don't appear to understand. Like, at all.
Boys, let me break this down for you: no matter how you feel about a woman's outward appearance, rest assured that she has gone through a great deal of effort to achieve that look. This is why we get very excited about things like long-lasting lip gloss, chip-proof nail polish, mascara that really DOES lengthen your lashes - and, dear Lord, don't even get me started on hair stuff. When a gal is having a good hair day, there is little she can't accomplish in the world. Good hair days are ESSENTIAL TO EXISTENCE.
I'm from Houston, TX, originally, and I know a thing or two about bad hair days - as do the women here in Raleigh. These recent humid days are a perfect example of the ultimate bad hair day. You can curl, straighten, spray, gel, or even do a combination of all of the aforementioned things, and the SECOND you walk outside, it's as though a brush has never touched your hair. And, as a product of a mixed marriage, I have particularly stubborn hair. I got my father's curl and my mother's thin, fine hair. Thus, my hair isn't sturdy enough to hold that curl, so it turns into just enough wave to really cause me some serious hair headaches. Toss in the fact that I loathe the way hair product feels and my adamant refusal to use it, and you have what my grandmother would refer to as a "messy-headed youngin'!"
 I gave in to the almighty flat iron about two years ago, and have since been on a search for a really good one. As a regular insomniac, there's not an infomercial that I haven't seen. So, the second Carmen Electra promised me that I could have her hair with the Kiyoseki Styler (which will be featured next month on Sale or Fail), I had the 'ol card out in a flash. I ordered my KStyler, and when it arrived, I was delighted to find that it did EVERYTHING the infomercial promised me, it would.
Well...except for the looking like Carmen Electra part.
Needless to say, I immediately became obsessed with my new flat iron, I was excitedly explaining it to a male friend on the phone. (I should point out that this male friend could not tell you the color of my eyes, despite that my dark brown hair should probably give that away, nor did he understand why I went into panic mode the day my eyelashes fell out.) It dawned on me after a few moments of my excited rambling that he was saying absolutely nothing. It was a reaction similar to the ones I got from both Chris Shebel and Chris Randolph.
Dave Kent actually wanted to borrow it. Interesting for a number of reasons.
I stopped talking and sighed exasperatedly into the phone. "You really don't even care about this, do you?"
"I was trying to feign interest," he answered. "Did I not succeed?"
"Not even in the least, no."
He sat there for a few seconds, then blurted out, "A friend of mine pays money to have her hair straightened at a salon."
"But that's chemical straightening. That's not what I'm talking about. I don't chemically straighten my hair!"
"LOOK," he snapped. "I am TRYING to participate, here! OKAY?"
I should have known better than to discuss a Kiyoseki with someone who can't even pronounce it. Pop Culture Parody - "Throw in the Towel"
Thursday 08-14-2008 3:19pm ET
 | Throw In the Towel
Screech, who refuses to go away, is planning on penning a tell-all book about Saved By the Bell.
 
To download the podcast, right-click "Listen" and select "Save As" from the menu. |
Rockin' Bloggin' - Tweet, Tweet, Tweet!
Monday 08-04-2008 6:02pm ET
 I'm counting on you to be acquainted with the new social networking and one-liner bloggin site, Twitter, by now. Even if you don't use it, it's likely that you've heard of it. And if you haven't, it will render the entire forthcoming diatribe irrelevant. I don't like to be irrelevant.
Everyone is on Twitter. Seriously EVERYONE. In addition to following your close and personal friends, who are updating from airports, grocery stores, and public restrooms, you can follow celebrity bloggers, gossip sites, local news and even national news outlets.
I was a bit baffled by the Twitter craze, at first. A friend of mine kept insisting that it was, "OMG THE BEST THING EVAR!!!" So, I signed up, explored it a bit, and thought, "...huh?" The idea of updating my every move wasn't something that thrilled me through and through.
As I began to follow more of my friends, I realized that Twitter was far more careless than I had first imagined. Not only do people tell you where they are and when they're there, but they have open conversations with their friends in plain view of the entire interwebs. They say terrible things about other people, curse like sailors, and link up to a whole host of inappropriate web pages.
Hell, yes. Sign me up!
Granted, I do have a couple of friends who haven't entirely figured it out yet. An old college classmate of mine takes his Tweets very seriously. And literally. It's not uncommon to wake up to find that he is "walking to work" or "waiting in line at the store."
I'm still attempting to get the Kiss gang on board at Twitter. Rob the Internet Guy still thinks Facebook is the new, cool kid in town, Dave Kent is too preoccupied with his Amazing DaveBlog to have time to Tweet, and the Chrises are doing good to check their email without incident.
I'm counting on you to harass them all into submission. Then we can all net-stalk one another. In harmony.
Just as things were meant to be.Ne-Yo on the Block
Thursday 07-31-2008 4:19pm ET
 I'm having trouble adjusting to the idea of NKOTB being back. It's an idea that I'm not comfortable with, as it brings my 13 and 32 28-year-old worlds into a full, head-on collision. In my 13-year-old world, I am very much in love with Joe McIntyre. I'm in my New Kids poster-plastered room, making my plans to befriend Tommy Page, who will, in turn, introduce me to my future husband, Joe-Bird. Big Bopper has already informed me that Joe's favorite food is spaghetti, and I plan to dedicate my life to perfecting that dish so that I can make it for him every night. Tiger Beat says that he loves a girl with shiny hair, and I'm spending hours in the hair care aisle, wondering what combination of products will make my hair so shiny that he'll be able to spot me from on stage. The newest BOP says that he loves seltzer water. I vow to drink nothing else from now on.
In my 28-year-old world, however, I have come far too close to my pre-pubescent fantasy. I have actually had occasion to meet Joey McIntyre, and I have found him to be foul-mouthed, intoxicated, and one of the rudest people I've ever encountered. (On more than one occasion, at that.) I have seen him be unkind to his loyal fans, which burns me up more than anything. I've also seen him in leather pants, which I find to be the most offensive of all.
Clearly, it becomes necessary to separate the two worlds. This way, I can still listen to the Hangin' Tough album while I work out once a month, and not feel too bad about it. Yet, I can be firmly set against this idea of a reunion tour, where that has-been ingrate will likely see the kind of money that would make you and me physically ill with excitement.
 But now, they've had to go and complicate it even more. Now, they're bringing one of my favorite singers of all-time into it. They can have their silly little duet with New Edition. I was never a huge New Edition fan, so this union doesn't negatively impact my fragile sense of nostalgia. They can also team up with the Pussycat Dolls all they want. I am, bound by the woman code, forced to display nothing but jealous hatred when it comes to PCD. When NKOTB takes Ne-Yo out from under me, though, we have a problem. NE-YO. C'mon, dude. I've been devoted to you for years! Why on earth would you cross to the 80s boy band side and betray me like this?!
Whatever. I don't even like the song. So THERE. Take THAT. I hope it tanks! I hope you lose money on this song! May you learn to NEVER cheat on me this way again!
Men. Seriously.
You can hear a clip of the song here. I would also like to point out to non-Ne-Yo parties involved in this tune that you are WAY TOO OLD to be clubbing.
Just sayin'.Pop Culture Parody - "7 Pics"
Tuesday 07-29-2008 7:12pm ET
 | 7 Pics
Quick! Someone confiscate Miley's digital camera!
To download the podcast, right-click "Listen" and select "Save As" from the menu. |
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© 2008