A Few of My Favorite Xmas Things

I have been exceedingly uninspired to write anything original on this blog since I started studying for my law school final exams, and finishing those exams successfully has been no help at all. While I search for inspiration, please accept this Christmas meme stolen from the sexy and smart Gay Prof as a suitable substitute for my creativity.

Eggnog or Hot Chocolate? Hot Chocolate is delish, and makes a good mixer for various and sundry liquers. If there is eggnog to be had, hold the egg and just give me the nog.

Does Santa wrap presents or just set them under the tree? Wrapping is half the fun, though you would think gifts coming from the world's gayest man would be a mite fancier. Our lezbeen friend Melanie came over one year and re-did all of our Xmas gifts because they weren't up to her high standards.

Colored lights on tree/house or white? Our Charlie Brown tree has white lights, but what I really want is big colored 70s bubble lights.

Do you hang mistletoe? No, but then again I'm not lucky enough to have Anderson Cooper dropping in on me like the Gay Prof. Of course, he is a homewrecker since Anderson and I have been in a committed relationship since sometime around 1993.

When do you put your decorations up? When I finish with finals. Or when I'm trying not to study for finals. Whichever comes first.

What is your favorite Christmas dish? My hubby is quite a dish, but other than him, I love it when mama is feeling maternal and makes us biscuits and gravy on Xmas morn.

Favorite Christmas memory as a child? I almost never get what I really want for Xmas. I'm told I'm very difficult to buy for, and I just don't understand that at all. Crisp white shirts. Colorful ties. Fiestaware. What's so difficult about that? Anyhoo, one Xmas, everyone got it right. When I was 11 years old, everyone decided to buy me books, except for someone who bought me a bookshelf. The huge stack of books didn't last long since I read ridiculously fast, but it was still the best Xmas ever.

When and how did you learn the truth about Santa? It must have been second grade. Everyone else caught on around first grade, and I staged a little protest on the playground with a pal against the lies of these children claiming Santa wasn't real. Seriously, a protest. I was a disturbed child.

What tops your tree? A sparkly gold ceramic star. My girl Twyla has an African-American Barbie in a white gown with her hair teased out like Diana Ross. Twyla's topper is definitely hotter than mine.

Do you open a gift on Christmas Eve? Craiggers and I have already exchanged gifts, tonight in fact. Here's the thing, I pride myself on buying gifts that the recipient will really love. I joke that being able to name any 80s song in 3 notes or less is my only skill, but in fact, I could be a damn fine personal shopper. And when I buy a gift someone will love, I want to give it right away. Patience is the world's most over-rated virtue if you ask me.

So, this year, I was the lucky recipient of a really good home improvement book, a scarlet Fiesta disk pitcher, season 5 of "Sex & The City", and sassy new silverware. Hooray for Craiggers!

What kind of cookies does Santa get set out for him? I will take a bitch down if he tries to eat my cookies.

Snow! Love it or hate it? I drive a Honda Civic. Snow is not my friend.

Can you ice skate? You would think that since I am a good dancer who could run in a pair of stilleto heels from the first time he put them on that I would be able to ice skate. No such luck. You know I'd just end up whacking Nancy Kerrigan in the knees anyway.

Do you remember your favorite present? Books. Lots and lots of books. Oh, and the super-neat cufflinks Craiggers gave me a couple of years ago that work like a level (they're clear, and have a bubble in them...they're an homage to my home improvement efforts).

What's the most important thing about Christmas to you? I was never actually that into Christmas until I started dating Craiggers. He was raised Jehovah's Witness, and those folks don't celebrate Christmas or any other holiday, apparently because taking their children around to annoy people at 8am on a Saturday morning isn't quite enough to make for an unhappy childhood. Our first Christmas together, I wanted to make sure he had lots of gifts to open because it wasn't something he experienced. Ever since, Christmas for me is about finding some way to make the people I love smile. And if that isn't the most nauseating thing I've ever said in my life, I don't know what is.

What is your favorite holiday dessert? Oatmeal raisin cookies. Plain, simple, and delicious.

Favorite tradition? My parents divorced before I was 2 years old. Ever since, I've been bouncing back and forth on Christmas between the two families, making sure I spent equal amounts of time so that no one is mad at me. That's exactly the kind of stress that will cause your child turn out to be a neurotic mess like myself. Let this be a lesson for you.

Which do you prefer - giving or receiving? Christmas is the one time each year I prefer to be a giver.

What is your favorite Christmas Carol? "I'd Like You For Christmas" by Julie London. I'm all about some Ratpack-era Christmas tunes that sound like they're being sung after three martinis. I also adore "Have Yourself A Merry Little Christmas" by Rosemary Clooney because it is simultaneously melancholy and hopeful.

Candy Canes? Ever hear of Graeter's Ice Cream? They're only located in Cincinnati, Louisville, and Lexington, and they're so good that Oprah has their creamy goodness shipped to her. They make a Peppermint Stick ice cream that has crushed candy canes stirred in. That is how I prefer my candy canes, and I will eat as much as is offered to me.

I love my mama

My mother is a whacko, but there are times that I am truly thankful for her. Like, for example, when I watched this video.

Bliss

My first semester of law school was probably the most difficult thing I have ever done, and I am so enjoying my time off now that finals are over. I've done some painting on the dining room, had a cocktail, made cookies, had a cocktail, saw two plays, and had about 20 cocktails. It has been lovely and peaceful.

Then I got my grades this afternoon, and all peace was shattered.



Shattered because I learned I didn't bomb out and then I screamed like a white woman!!!

I hestitated to post the actual grades because I don't intend to tell my classmates how I did, and because despite appearances, I hate to be obnoxious. But, I never hesitate to post my own humiliations, my classmates don't know about my blog, and I had many people pulling for me to do well, so I figured what they hell, why not? Those grades would be mediocre for undergrad or other graduate programs. For law school, they are good. Not spectacular, but good. I have to admit that I'm disappointed I didn't make an A in Civil Procedure (that was the class where the professor informed me that my answer to her question made her "sad"), but I'm floored by the A- in Contracts. That class has been the bane of my existence, and my blood pressure was dangerously high before the exam (I seriously considered having someone take me to the emergency room...I was a wreck!).

Anyway, I do apologize for not posting anything entertaining in some time, and for boring you all with law school stories. Also, thank you to all who sent me encouraging notes. Big huge thanks to Craiggers who put up with my big bag of bullshit through two weeks of exams, my sister who has promised not to blackmail me with the drunk-dial message I left for her during our post-finals celebration, and to my favorite blogger, The Angry Black Bitch, whose special Final Exams Bitchfirmation I faithfully recited prior to each exam. Go on with my bad academic self, indeed!

The Hotness

I am now 75% finished with finals. Today was Civil Procedure, and I don't want to talk about it other than to say that the professor decided the day prior to the exam that she doesn't feel well enough to grade essay exams, and so she switched to an all multiple-choice final. She could at least have used some lube, that's all I'm saying.

Me being me, I've been excessively snappy at home with all this finals stress going on, so Craiggers bought me a lovely present today to cheer me up: the soundtrack to the upcoming movie "Dreamgirls"!!! Granted, if I weren't interested at all, he would have bought it for himself because he's a big showtunes queen, but it was terribly sweet of him nonetheless. And it is great! I think the arrangements and added songs make it better than the original 1982 Broadway soundtrack, a tall order to say the least. If you aren't familiar with the story, get familiar because this may end up being the best movie of the year!

That said, no matter how great you've heard Jennifer Hudson sounds in the part of Effie White (and she is the greatest thing on the soundtrack without a doubt), she is no Jennifer Holiday. The pain and the pathos just don't come through the way they did in the original. The clip below is a performance from the 1982 Tony Awards when Ms. Holiday performed the drag classic "And I Am Telling You I Am Not Going" and then walked off with the award for Best Supporting Actress. I was 9 years old when this came out, and it would be worth being older just to have witnessed this in person. I've never seen anything like it...it is like she is exorcising a demon on stage! Maybe I'll feel differently when I see it at the movie theaters, but I can't imagine Jennifer Hudson or anyone else touching this in a million years.

No Cheese here, weekly or otherwise. The first four minutes explain the story, and in the second four, the house gets brought down. The legendary Ms. Jennifer Holiday along with the original Broadway cast (including Sheryl Lee Ralph and Loretta Devine!) of "Dreamgirls":



This may be my gayest post ever! Anyway, finals end on Friday afternoon, drunkness ensues Friday evening, and assuming bail is made on time, Trading Faces should be returning to its regular feed of mediocrity shortly thereafter.

Kanye West gives shout-out to Francine Fishpaw

This tribute to "John Waters' Polyester" is okay, but I believe the dogs playing poker he has carved in his goatee are a much richer and more vibrant artistic statement.

Finals update: Today I had my final for contracts, my worst subject. I have been so terrified of this exam that I have been having nightmares about insanely pleated pants this week (the prof wears khakis so pleated you could use them to sail a damn catamaran!). It was brutal, but I think I did okay. My blood pressure was so high before it started that you could take my pulse from across the room (seriously, you could see it in my neck!). Two down, two to go. This biatch is taking the night off from law to get his celebrity gossip and drink on!

Photo blatently lifted from the very talented Fresh over at Crunk & Disorderly. Sadly, the text is entirely courtesy of Trading Faces.

They grow up so fast

So I took my first real final exam this morn, three hours of spewing everything I ever knew about torts onto a computer screen, and it is a relief to be done with it. Three more finals to go, so I need to get back to studying. First, though, I just had to post this photo of K-Fed's Thanksgiving celebration. I'm not so sure what he has to be celebrating other than skating by for one more week with a clean bill of health from the free clinic, but celebrate he did at his first baby mama's house. Apparently he brought a new date/meal ticket to dine with his first two kids (you know, the little brown ones he didn't care enough about to fight for custody):
















I tell you, Anna Nicole's little girl sure did grow up fast, and just as classy as her mama!

About your host

The host of Trading Faces has various and sundry interests. However, I have far more disinterests. As I prepare to go underground in preparation for the first set of law school final exams, I'm getting even lazier about posting than normal. How lazy? Here are my "Interests" as listed on my Facebook page (because yes, I've gotten that deep into being a college kid again that I have a Facebook page...law school will send you right into a second adolescence):


Christopher is not at all interested in:

1. Clowns
2. Raw onions
3. Ashley Judd
4. Ashley Judd movies
5. Ashley Judd’s greasy hair at UK basketball games
6. The Bush administration, every last one of them, right down to Condi’s Lucy Van Pelt hairdo
7. NASCAR, because driving in a circle is not a sport.
8. White Castle
9. Paper/plastic/foam dishes at home, because people over 25 should use real dishes.
10. Crocs
11. The word “bro” unless referring to Cosmo Kramer’s bra for men
12. Pleated pants
13. SUVs
14. Goth teens…get your own damn youth culture!
15. The Grateful Dead, so much so that I threw a Grateful He’s Dead party.
16. Decaf coffee
17. Bling
18. Insomnia
19. Children on planes
20. Children in adult restaurants
21. Improper usage of your/you’re
22. Camping
23. Fauxhawks
24. The word “moist”
25. Rainbow flags

If I see you in a nice restaurant wearing Crocs and drinking decaf with Dick Cheny and his turkeybaster fauxhawked grandson, chances are somebody is going to get stabbed.


Posting your profile from another site...that may make me the laziest blogger alive. Send me good vibes over the next two weeks anyway, please!

The Weekly Cheese

Our Weekly Cheese this week is dedicated to my pal Marc, a.k.a. Twyla Knight, who owns this song on vinyl. He also owns a painting by her late husband, Xavier Cugat, that is horrible and glorious, just like today's featured "artist". You remember her from "Love Boat" and that great Geico commercial, but did you know she was a disco queen? Pop open a bottle of wine and enjoy The Cheese, brought to you by...

Charo's "Dance A Little Bit Closer!"

A Model Proposal

I don't like to brag, but I may just have cemented my status as Evil Genius. Are you astounded? I was too. I mean, I never thought that I would be able to solve the quagmire in Iraq while studying/not understanding the Parol Evidence Test for a contract dispute. Actually, I wasn't studying, but rather avoiding this mind-numbing subject by reading all about supermodel/beatdown artist Naomi Campbell's latest legal problems. It seems she smacked around another maid and berated her for being "Third World." The maid is accusing Naomi of being a "violent super-bigot." That's when it hit me...why on earth do we bother with anger management classes for these people? Let the anger work for us!


Naomi scoffed at our attempts to make her play nice. It is perfectly clear she enjoys beating the tar out of foreigners, and let's face it, bitch is damn good at it. So why not let her do what she does best? Let's put together an army of pissed-off rich bitches, led by Naomi, and send them to the Middle East. I guarantee that she will sort them all out in no time flat. You know it was a bloody mess for her to take Anna Wintour's hairdo for her court appearance today. Show me a radical Islamic terrorist scarier than the iron-fisted editor of Vogue, and I'll show you someone who is going to take over the world.



Our only fear is that Tyra "That's not a forehead, that's a fivehead!" Banks is going to join in with the Iraqi insurgency once she hears that Naomi's lawyer has taken to referring to his client as "the most beautiful black woman in the world." Still, Tyra's not the sharpest tool in the shed, and if Linda Evangelista can figure out how to not wake up for less than $10,000, she can plan a strategy for her BFF Naomi to take down Tyra and the insurgents.

No need for Dubya and his pals to thank me for cleaning up their little mess (though I admit that being passed over for yet another cabinet position is starting to sting). As a loyal American and fashionista, it is the least I can do.

I'm not mad at you, I'm mad at the dirt

Wow, looking back over the last few posts, I really do sound angry. Ignorant celebs and my contracts class are just driving me into full-on meanness! But, just in case all 10 or so of you start to worry your heads about my well-being, here is some reassurance that some things are still happy here in the land of Trading Faces:






Kylie Minogue kicked off the Showgirl Tour this week after cancelling it last year when she had to take up the fight against breast cancer. She didn't just kick cancer's ass, she got out her hot glue gun and decorated it!
















While I am eating some meat these days for the first time in 13 years, I haven't started with the beef. Who needs it when you have Fantastic Foods' veggie chili mix? I looooooove a bowl of this chili made with black beans and some extra spice, and maybe a peanut butter sandwich on the side. I can get three seriously filling meals out of this for about $4, and given our budget these days, that's great!















Is it demented that I'm already playing Christmas music? This particular series is my favorite, featuring folks like Sinatra, Dean Martin, Rosemary Clooney, and fabulous Ms. Julie London (my all-time fave Xmas song is "I'd Like You For Christmas").













I didn't have any shoes to wear to the gym when my pal Katie and I started going last week, so I bought these sassy Pumas at discount shoe website Zappo's. We've only made it to the gym once, but my hooves were just as cool as can be.








There are two things that are getting me through law school right now. They are, in no particular order:





1. Cheap vanilla vodka. Stoli is my favorite, but this cheapo brand seriously tastes about as good as the other flavored brands. Gee, cheap vanilla vodka and generic Diet Coke...things are tight around the Trading Faces offices!
















2. Glannon's Examples & Explanations study guide on Civil Procedure is essential for any first year law student. If you don't need it, you're obviously smarter than me, which makes me question your choice of blog reading material. I have put the Examples & Explanations for Contracts on my Christmas list, which may also make me the biggest nerd alive today.

Further hatefulness

I swear I'm not in a bad mood lately, it is just that every celeb this month has been pissing me off (except for you, Britney...I'm really really happy for you!). Anyway, you keep a lady in diamonds and furs for 350 years, and see how she repays you! From a recent interview with Broadway legend Carol Channing in a mag I've never heard of called The Gay People's Chronicle:

KK: You seem to have a very large gay following. Have you ever thought about why?

CC: I don’t think about them. I’m grateful that they seem to like me. They’re terribly loyal to me. But I’m knee-deep in the Bible and you know what it says about that.

KK: Alright.

CC: Oh, dear. Is this for a gay publication? Have I offended you?

KK: Yes. For the Gay People’s Chronicle. Right now, it’s really not my job to be offended or not be offended. I am just asking questions and reporting answers. I read that you have fought for gay rights. Do you think that the things gay people are fighting for are important?

CC: I don’t think about it. If they can’t take care of their own problems, why should I bother. It’s not my problem.

I don't think it will be your problem much longer, you tone deaf old dinosaur. I am rather astounded by her comments considering at one time she seemed to be a supporter of equal rights for gays and lesbians (and she certainly never minded taking our money). Perhaps since she hears death knocking, she's afraid all those gooey gowns she wore to delight the fairies won't get her into Heaven. It is terribly sad, but not exactly uncommon. One of the great regrets of my life is that my late grandfather and I never patched things up after he treated Craiggers badly one Christmas. He was very live-and-let-live, but as he neared the end of his life, he suddenly found God, out of fear of his own mortality I believe. I won't go into details, but he behaved really horribly toward Craiggers, and I stayed angry with him until we learned a few months later he was terminally ill. I should have sat down and discussed it with him. I should have tried to make him understand that he taught me about integrity and honest hard work, and that because of his example, I can't live my life with anything less. But I didn't. I did forgive him because I know fear of death made him behave that way, and that it wasn't who he really was. I just wish he had realized that he was fine just the way he was before, and that I loved him for it.

Carol Channing, on the other hand, is still on my shit list.

UPDATE: Carol's people are claiming that she was misled by this reporter who also conveniently left out a few key phrases from her interview. Given her history of loving the gays, she has been removed from my list. That said, we'll be watching you, Granny. Don't disappoint us again.

Gay people who get on my damn nerves

This week, Trading Faces would like to give a big shout-out to our newest member of the tribe, Mr. Doogie Howser. It has not been a good fall for the homosexuals, what with that crazy pervert in Congress and the meth-faced minister out in Colorado. Revelations of gayness of late should do nothing if not show the world that we really come from all walks of life, and not all of us are wise-cracking loons who will forcibly re-do your dining room. Most of us are quite common, and as we've seen this fall before Doogie came out, many of us are pretty darn annoying. With that, the staff of Trading Faces is pleased to present the gay folks we'd like to give back.





Lord knows I love a bitch. I also have a special place in my heart for unapologetic queens. That said, would someone PLEASE adjust Grandma's hormone replacement patches?! Good lord, Elton, don't we have enough trouble without your crazy gay ass going around advocating banning religion like some sort of reverse fundamentalist psycho? You need to sit down, hush up, and knit yourself a nice afghan.








Lance Bass, welcome out of the closet. It is always nice to have someone join us without there being a prostitute and two or three sacks of meth involved. Oh, what's that? You'd like to make it clear in People Magazine that you only like to deal with "straight-acting" gays? Well, it is a good thing your boyfriend doesn't feel the same way, fishbasket. Stop putting that kind of self-loathing bullshit out there because you're making some sissy kid in Mississippi hate himself even more.

Oh, and enough with the damn eyebrow plucking! You're starting to look like Nicolette Sheridan!









Patty, it is past Labor Day. Time to step away from the Birkenstocks. And no, you may not wear them with woolen socks. Maybe if you stopped that bullshit, you'd attract a nice girl like Ellen instead of that chick who is always calling you "sir."










We'll be seeing you at the customer service counter soon for a return. And don't even think about trying to push some store credit off on us...we want our money back!

Shocking! Eddie Murphy picks up REAL woman on streets of L.A.!

It was an easy mistake. I've often suspected Venus Williams might be a woman with "something extra" as well. Most other female pro athletes have the good sense not to go out in public dressed like a damn Disney villain.


*photo shamelessly lifted from Crunk + Disorderly

New Source Found for Fossil Fuels! Middle East Peace Imminent!

Thanks to Ashley Judd's skin, America will no longer need to look to the Middle East to power our SUVs. Finally, she becomes useful!

*ed. note: What, just because we're both from the same place, I'm supposed to be nice? At least my degree from the University of Kentucky isn't pretend!

No, Mr. President, NOW you got a thumpin'!

Sen. Allen just conceded in Virginia. The Democrats have taken the House AND the Senate from the cut-tax-and-spend party of Bush. Please join me in a bit of schadenfreude.



Maybe Rummy can look that word up for President Corky on The Google before he goes!

Five Things

Okay, so I've been tagged by my Fiesta friend Ces to share five random profane or mundane things about myself. As you can see, contrary to popular belief, I can be a good sport!

1. There are two, yes two, Spice Girls CDs in my home. Also, one Geri Halliwell solo disc, two CDs by Britney Spears, one Ace of Base, one Samantha Fox, and one (oh sweet fancy Moses why do I admit these things?!)....Mandy Moore.
   
2. I have a bit of a thing for good underwear, and get really annoyed when people are dressed in adult "cinema" and then are magically undressed without any steps in between. WTF? Along those same lines, I'm REALLY sick of white Calvin Klein briefs. Someone in the industry needs to cut a deal with a new fashion designer to supply their costumes.
   
3. I am a raging liberal big fag who loves ballsy women, and yet I think Barbra Streisand ought to be smacked with a wet trout. Go figure.
4. I was secretly hoping for a communal shower at my new gym at the university's health science center, but no such luck. No wonder I skipped my visit today.
   
5. Yesterday, I wore a pair of rather pricey Kenneth Cole zip-up half boots (from back when I had a job) to school with an old man vintage-ish blazer I picked up used for $5 at the Goodwill, and I was working it.

And if that hot mess isn't profane I don't know what is. Ces, you didn't really think that given the choice between mundane and profane, I would go for the mundane, did you? :-)

Exclusive: Transexual attempts to assasignate Sharon Stone!

Thank God she was able to fight off her attacker by using Shirley Jones' coat. I have a sneaking suspicion our pals over at The Gilded Moose had something to do with this.

Best. Day. Ever.

1. Democrats took back the House of Representatives by a COMMANDING margin, and we'll soon have the nation's third highest office held by a woman for the first time in history.
2. The Senate is shortly going to be retaken by the Democrats as soon as the vote count finishes, we hope.
3. Britney left K-Fed, while his album sold 6,500 copies and debuted at #151.
4. Voters in Arizona rejected a constitutional ban on gay marriage, voters in South Dakota rejected telling women what they can do with their own bodies, and voters in Missouri approved stem-cell research.
5. I didn't get called on in Property, and I'm not hungover despite the copious number of mojitos I consumed while watching CNN last night.
6. The Ville FINALLY rejected evil Congresswoman Anne Northup.

I think this calls for a Happy Dance, y'all!

UPDATE: And now Montana was called for the Dems AND Secretary of Defense Donald "Darth" Rumsfeld has resigned. This is better than sex! It's like being 7 years old, waking up on Christmas morning, and finding all the Star Wars toys, a new bike, and tickets to Disneyworld under the tree!!!

Get your vote on!

If you aren't voting today, I'm deeply surprised we are friends. Along those same lines, I'm seeing a lot of people today encouraging folks to vote, no matter who they vote for. You won't hear such nonsense from me. If you're planning to keep the incompetent Bush administration in power in Washington by sending them a Republican congress, please, do our military, Muslim men, gays and lesbians, poor working families, students, racial minorities, women of child-bearing age, and old sick folks a favor...

keep your butt at home!

I'm Christopher, and I endorse this message because my queer ass is tired of being a scapegoat for these do-nothing spendaholic warmongering douchebags!

What has law school done to the animals?!

I had half a turkey sandwich yesterday, and I’m having another today. Has law school made me forsake my vegetarian principles? Not so much…I lost those long ago, but just preferred my way of eating. Law school has stressed me into not cooking. Rather than cook each day, I’ve been making casseroles and such, and freezing them into Gladware so as to have a large supply of lunches and dinners. Casseroles with cheese. Lots and lots of cheese. Do you people have any idea how difficult it is to pre-prepare healthy meals?! So, in lieu of getting fat on pre-prepared vegetarian fare, I am toying with expanding my diet to include poultry. It’s easy and convenient to have lean sliced turkey and chicken on some whole wheat bread, and probably healthier than consuming ten pounds of beans and cheese each day.

Commence with your gloating all you carnivores who have smirked at my soy products. I have a memo to finish.



FYI, the turkey on the plate is fake, but I still prefer it to the turkey holding it.

Christopher's state of mind

I was going to start writing a post about my late Uncle Beef. Yes, you read that right. Uncle Beef. It is a fun story, I assure you.

However, it isn't going to get written today. Why? Let's just say this quote I read from another law student this afternoon while avoiding working on my memo sums up how we're feeling around here at Trading Faces this week:

"Law school is like unprotected sex: it feels great when you get in, but you regret it after you come."

Yeah, I went there. You spend hours reading about the Negligent Infliction of Emotional Distress, and you would say worse. More from us later when we're feeling a little less distressed.

Oh Jesus! Call 9-1-1!

Jermaine Jackson is being chased by a biker gang of gay Arabs, led by Pia Zadora!



We always knew it would eventually come to this, but really, with that jacket he was just encouraging them.

Team Witherspoon!

As I'm sure you've all heard by now, Hollywood cutie couple Reese Witherspoon and What's-His-Name have split, reportedly because he couldn't keep it in his pants for his Oscar-winning wife. In this election season, we at Trading Faces would like to give our most enthusiastic endorsement to Team Witherspoon in this race.

Sadly, as California is a community property state, that rat-boy is going to get half of everything, and that's a lot since she's currently the highest-paid actress in Hollywood. We are confident, however, that as he deserves he is going to get all the itching/burning sensations "down there" that he could ever want. That and a lifetime of bit parts on movies made for the Hallmark Channel. Way to blow it, horndog!

The Hotness

No joke here, only happiness that every time we see her in public these days, my daughter Whitney has a little less crack addict residue on her. Granted, I am trying to convince her to drop the honey-colored acrylic hair, but it is on straight at least, and she looked positively radiant last night out on the town at a benefit with her producer Clive Davis. Team Whitney!

P.I.M.P.: A bejeweled medical update

Remember back when this blog was mainly about the massive amounts of surgery I was having to get rid of the birth defect on my face? Yeah, I've kind of gotten sidetracked from that by celebrity trash and random musings, at least in part because the surgery didn't go quite as planned despite everything I had been told by my medical team. I've been doing a lot of trying not to think about things. It has been mostly successful though, so I thought it might be time to post a surgical update. The last surgery back at the end of June was around my mouth area, and because the stitches inside my mouth broke, I have a lot of scar tissue that will take even more months to soften and go down. So, I still have some movement limits to my mouth (not much, but some), and some swelling. Also, there was a small piece of the venous malformation left toward the back of my cheek that couldn't be removed. It is still hardened from the injections (see previous post linked above if you want to know what all that is about), so it may dissolve or at least go down a bit more. I do know at some point I want to go get at least one more surgery to take that last piece out if it doesn't dissolve, and to get some work done to stop my eyelid from drooping. At any rate, here are the results as they currently stand, with a contrasting pic from a year and a half ago:


Pretty good improvement, but also who could help looking good when he's in his finest pimp gear? That was from last night's Decedent's Ball thrown by the Student Bar Association. I was a Torts Pimp (you can't see much of the jeweled hoe I'm carrying, which is neither obviously nor intrinsically dangerous, and thus non-negligent...yeah, only law students who have read Lubitz v. Wells would find that funny).

Thanks for all the good wishes I've gotten over the past year of this journey. I appreciate them, and wanted to show you all that I am doing better. And now I'm going to go trolling for some tacky celebrities to make fun of so we won't have quite so serious of a subject as the top story on Trading Faces!

The Anderson Cooper Update

It's been a while since we've checked in with our favorite intrepid boy reporter/super secret boyfriend Anderson Cooper. Let's see what he's been up to, shall we?





Yep, that's what I thought, still trying to throw the paparazzi off our trail with his pretend boy toys. Well, that or he's still mad about that Columbus Day prank Lou Dobbs and I played. It was mean, but priceless. I tell you, I don't know who screamed more like a woman, Anderson or Nancy Grace!


Source

Separated at Birth?

OMG! It's Pete Burns from legendary 80s band Dead or Alive! Please Pete, will you sing us a few bars of "You Spin Me Round (Like a Record)"? Pretty please?! We love you so much here at Trading Faces!

What's that? Right after just a little more work on your lips? Ummm, okay...

Yeah, so we're not really comfortable with where this is heading, so we'll just listen to you on the iPod. Loved you on "Dancing With the Stars," by the way!

Project Baby

"Project Runway" judge/Elle Magazine fashion director/Evil Disney Queen Nina Garcia is preggers! Congrats, girl!















Tim Gunn is going to be the first visitor in that nursery. And what will he say? "Don't bore Nina!" That's sage advice...nobody wants to get this look:




You know that no wire hangers will be allowed in that household.

R-E-S-P-E-C-T

The PoshBot, a.k.a. Victoria Beckham, now fancies herself enough of a fashionista that she is starting her own fashion business. I'm not entirely sure how shopping a lot qualifies her as a fashion expert, but by that same token I suppose I can now call myself Princess of The Taco Bell 99-cent menu, so I'm all for it.







Posh knows her clothes, we'll give her that. We won't, however, give her this:












"It's amazing - I'm doing something I'm actually very good at," she said. "I can confidently sit in a room with Donatella Versace or anyone in the business and be respected. I know what I'm talking about." 3 a.m.






















That reminds me, I was just over at Donatella's palazzo with a bottle of Stoli and my big Oxycontin purse (you know the one, it goes with my Xanax earrings), and she was telling me how much she respects my opinion regarding fashion. And my views on Middle Eastern policy. And my tabouli recipe. That Donatella, she is one respectful lady.

The Weekly Cheese: Greatest Actress of Our Generation

Instead of finishing my reading for civil procedures for class tomorrow, I've been on YouTube researching the Greatest Actress of Our Generation. She has played a head trauma victim, a terrorist, a gay basher, and a baby thief, and that was all on one show! She once attempted to give Jack Waggoner a lobotomy, but was stopped by a meddling Priscilla Presley. She's so hot, one video just isn't enough, though I will say the second half of the first scene is possibly the greatest moment in network television history. The Weekly Cheese is brought to you by...

Marcia Cross a.k.a. Dr. Kimberly Shaw of "Melrose Place"



Tell me you aren't going to giggle from now on when you see her migraine commercials from now on!

A Saturday afternoon conversation

Christopher: "Where are you going?"

Craiggers: "To the post office to drop these packages off."

Christopher: "Don't you want to hear all about the Federal Rules of Civil Procedure?"

Craiggers: "Less than you can possibly imagine."

Christopher: "I could tell you all about Permissive Joinder. You never want to do anything fun."


It is little wonder the Radical Right is so opposed to gay marriage when conversations like that demonstrate just how perverse we really are.

Lowered expectations

I got a B+ on my first major classroom writing assignment in 10 years, a memo for basic legal skills. While I may have said previously that I would not be satisfied with less than an A on anything, I think it is safe to say I was doing a happy dance when I got this back today. I even got a "Good job"...I couldn't be happier if she had given me a smiley face sticker. I also indulged in a bit of schadenfreude after observing the dissatisfaction of a classmate with whom I'm a wee bit competitive, that is, until I found out my grade was lower than a classmate who is universally regarded as the most annoying person in school. That's what I get...apparently karma counts for lawyers too.


In other Christopher news, I think law school might be ruining my sense of humor. At the very least, it has ruined "Legally Blonde" for me and anyone else who might watch it with me. Everything happening in the movie I judge based on the reality of law school, and I have to say I'm even irritating myself. When Holland Taylor is lecturing, I'm commenting, "Why on earth would she begin the semester with subject matter jurisdiction? Those people don't even know how the case gets to court in the first place yet!" When Elle Woods goes to interview a witness in a murder case, I comment, "They would never let a 1L do that! She hasn't even had a class in evidence yet!" When I'm commenting, I know Craiggers is thinking, "This is a movie about a girl who takes her chihuahua to court with her in a purse...let it go!" But of course he is too nice to say it. That is the difference between the two of us...I'd never be that nice!

And finally, someone mentioned recently that I have not mentioned all the surgery I had in June in quite some time. I am healing up still...I had some complications with stitches breaking, so my mouth healed oddly and is still stiff due to the scar tissue. I didn't get rid of everything, and I'm not entirely happy with the results. It is a million times better than it was, but I don't look entirely normal as of yet. I probably need maybe one more on my cheek and some work done on my eye since they mostly skipped that. It is quite amazing how long it takes to heal after facial surgery. I suppose a facelift isn't quite the instant beauty folks think it is...I hear the healing is quite similar to what I'm experiencing. I'm giving it another month or so, and I'll post some pictures. After that, I probably won't get to finish the surgical journey until I finish school. I had been told I would be finished prior to school starting so I would still have health insurance, but that isn't happening. I'm okay with that. The journey isn't over yet.

Couples Night or Things I Swore I'd Never Do

I live in a very black and white world where people don’t change, where the rules don’t change, and where I am always right. There are certain things I have always sworn I would never do, and true to my word, I never have.

For example, I’ve never voted for a Republican, not even the one or two attractive ones. After being dragged to see “Robin Hood,” I’ve never paid to see a Kevin Costner movie, and refuse to watch one even for free unless given free reign to make wisecracks throughout. And I continue to steadfastly reject the notion that Celine Dion has anything remotely approaching talent.

Yet here I am in line at a theater waiting to see a movie with my partner and our friends Amy and Melanie. Suddenly, it strikes me. How the hell did this happen? I’ve become a “we” person!

I’m sure you know “we” people. They’re those people that always refer to themselves in the plural, as in “We don’t like chicken parmesean,” “We prefer the larger sized bath towels,” and “We think Jay Leno is a comic genius.” It is as though a personality lobotomy is the price you pay for having sex with one person on a regular basis.

“We” people never do anything alone, and more importantly, they rarely do things without other “we” people. I used to wonder if there is something in their genetic code that causes an explosion if in the company of an odd number of people for an extended period of time.

In short, I hated “we” people. In our single party years, my friend Edwin and I determined that if we ever found the right person, we would definitely never become those people. They were terminally dull, and what’s more, they seemed to have an agenda to make us feel like lepers for not being coupled. I thought of Edwin when I had the aforementioned Amy and Melanie over for dinner along with married couple Danny and Holly.

At first glance, we looked like some bizarre commercial for Bennetton, a male couple, a female couple, and a mixed couple, having cocktails and eating summertime barbeque fare almost as though there was nothing slightly off about the whole picture. In reality, we were all too conventional. A wee dinner party had turned into a “we” dinner party.

I suppose this insidiousness began to sneak up on me a few years back when we had our first Christmas together. I have long been an avowed Christmas hater after a childhood of divorce and being shuttled between two families, trying not to hurt anyone’s feelings by spending a minute less with one person than I did with another. Craig, though, had been raised as a Jehovah’s Witness, and for some reason I decided that he should have a real holiday full of bad decorations and crass consumerism.

That’s when after nearly a decade of living on my own, I put up my first Christmas tree. And while it was more colorful, stylish, and sparkly than the tree of your average family, it was probably the most nuclear family gesture I had ever made up to that point in my life. By the next year, I had taken up my mother’s hobby of baking breads as gifts to friends and co-workers, and we actually considered having our picture made for holiday greeting cards, in front of the tree with the gaily wrapped gifts and the cats.

After considering the nausea medication we’d have to include in that card, we nixed that idea. I suppose that deep down in the depths of what passes as my heart I knew that while being somewhat of a “we” person wasn’t necessarily the horrible crime I once thought, the card would be crossing a line that would put us in the same category as those people you see at amusement parks wearing matching t-shirts pledging their devotion in airbrush. Those people should be shot on sight, along with people who send family newsletters and who use the word soulmate.

My newfound flexibility, as best I can figure, is part of the milestone of finally feeling like an adult, even if I don’t always act like it. Just last week, I found myself willing to try sushi again instead of writing it off as smelly yuppie compost. If that isn’t flexibility, I don’t know what is. So I’ll say it…I’m a “we” person, and that’s okay. And it didn’t take me half as long to say it without cringing as it did to say that I’m th-th-thirty.

Besides, I never really made a conscious choice to become a “we” person. I don’t see my single friends as somehow deficient in some way. I don’t look at them with pity and assure them that the perfect person is out there somewhere (with the sort of friends I have, I would get punched a lot if I did that anyway).

In remembrance of my former self, I do make an effort when in the presence of single friends lamenting their singleness to point out that they don’t have to worry about someone else’s snoring. There are no struggles over the remote control. You never have to argue over who ate the last of the ice cream or who left that horrible smell in the bathroom. Aside from being true, I figure it is the least I can do for the man I used to be. I’m still not watching “Dances With Wolves”, though, not even if promised that Kevin Costner dies a painful death in the end alongside Celine Dion.

Happy National Coming Out Day!

Come out,


come out,

wherever you are!






Not so fast there, Mr. Cruise...we have quite enough crazy in our ranks without your alien-worshipping ass. Thanks anyway.

I hope all my fellow meat whistle tuners out there have had a lovely day!

Further proof that Kathleen Turner is a tough broad

She totally kicked Steven Segal's ass for this outfit on the clearance rack at Ross Dress for Less.





















Again, stealing more great photos from the style gurus at Go Fug Yourself

Dear Erykah Badu,

Oh my.





















I think you'd better call Tyrone (call 'em!). And tell him I said come on, 'cause you've lost your shit.

Psychotic photo of neo-soul songstress/nutjob courtesy of the ladies of Go Fug Yourself

The Death Rattle

Ohhhh sweet fancy Moses, I'm hungover!


Not this hungover, mind you, but hungover nonetheless.

Last night, I forgot that I'm not in my 20s anymore, and went out to celebrate our first law school exam with some schoolmates. I won't go into details other than to say there was Indian food, someone's apartment, blueberry Stoli, bourbon, dirty martinis, two bars, and a pukey cab
ride involved (no, I was not the one who lost his curry...I'm far too much of a pro for that sort of thing). Not surprisingly, I currently have a wee headache that feels somewhat like Sharon Stone giving me an icepick to the head while forcing me to watch "Basic Instinct 2."

Since I'm hearing the death rattle in my head today, I thought I might steal my pal Nurse Ratched's recent morbid-but-fun post on the songs I would like played at my funeral. Not to bring down the room, but having lost an inordinate number of friends at an early age to strange tragedies, I have given a great deal of thought to my own mortality. I also live in the land of denial, so I prefer to think of it all as planning a big party in my own honor. People from my part of the country do this whole funeral ritual involving open caskets, lots of country food, and preachers. I want no part of any of that morbidity. My family can do what they like with the understanding that I will come back and haunt a bitch who lets someone conduct a sermon over my embalmed corpse. My friends, however, are going to be under instructions to rent out a large comfortable room. There will be an open bar and fantastic snacks. After everyone has had the opportunity to get good and soused, everyone will take a seat and listen as each person goes up to a microphone to tell the absolute most embarrassing story about me they know. It will be fabulous! Edwin, get that story about the "theater" seat ready. You too, Kitty Litter, with the tale of the where the bad man touched you inappropriately. And during the cocktail portion of the evening, the following music will most definitely be playing:


1. "Dancing Queen" by ABBA, because I am (or was) one.








2. "Last Dance" by Donna Summer, because I'm just that obvious.

3. "Land of the Living" by Kristine W., because I will still be alive in the land of the living...when I'm haunting your ass!

4. "I Wouldn't Change a Thing" by Kylie Minogue, because I don't believe in regrets.


5. "I Am Thin and Gorgeous" by Junior Vasquez and the AbFab ladies, because a few days after death, I'll finally get back down to the size I always wanted.









6. "Holiday" by Madonna, because I'm gay and have to have something by Madonna. It's one of the items on the contract we have to sign when we cross over.



7. "Peace Train (Holy Roller Mix)" by Dolly Parton, because I started life as one kind of holy roller and ended it as a whole other kind.









8. "I Know It's Over" by the Smiths, because it is morbid and kinda funny all at once.

9. "Dead Man's Party" by Oingo Boingo, because it will be my party, and I can die if I want to.

10. "It's a Sin" by Pet Shop Boys, because when I look back upon my life, for everything I long to do, it's a sin.


11. "Save Up All Your Tears" by Cher, because there's no crying allowed unless it is accompanied by a smartass remark.










It's going to be a helluva a party...I hope you can all make it in about 50 years or so!

Psst! I've got a secret for you!

Don't tell anyone, but I think I made an "A" on my Basic Legal Research exam today.

HAPPY DANCE TIME!!!!!!!!!!

Hell Week is officially over. I hope to have a sense of humor once again so I can blog up to the low standard you have come to expect of Trading Faces. Now, excuse me while I pretend I'm still in my early 20s and get hammered with my classmates.

Wanda Does It

I have a lot to say about this whole Mark Foley scandal in Congress. Let me just start with how much I just looooove that all the conservative talking heads keep pointing out that he is gay, I guess because this sort of thing is expected of us (tell that to the female page who was sleeping with her Congressman from Illinois back in the 80s). There are two points you need to remember in this case.

1) Rep. Mark Foley is a sexual predator. He used his position to put himself in sexual situations with teenagers. His orientation has nothing to do with it...he's sleaze either way.
2) Speaker of the House Dennis Hastert's office was informed of what this perv was doing in Fall 2005. In spring 2006, the kid's congressional sponsor told Hastert directly, as well as the Republican Campaign Committe chair and the House Majority Leader. None of them did a damn thing.

Now, I have many more comments on this whole issue, and the recent trend of people coming out who we'd like to give back to the strayt folks (Jim McGreevy and Lance Bass, I'm talking to your sorry butts!), but I would rather leave it to the brilliant Wanda Sykes, who summed up my feelings in under two minutes on what must have been the first funny episode of "The Tonight Show" in about 5 years.



And while we're getting down with Wanda, I wanted to share a sketch she did regarding former President Clinton, and how he's a big racist. I can see her point, and have decided he is a homophobe too!

The Weekly Cheese

I have an exam tomorrow, and thus Hell Week officially ends (at least until my next memo is due). Anyway, when it comes to the Basic Legal Research exam, I've got this....y'all can just hang back. That's why I feel comfortable for the first time in a week, and feel the need to post some silliness. And if it turns out that I'm overly confident, well, you take the good, you take the bad, you take them both and then you have this week's cheese.

The Weekly Cheese is brought to us by an 80s sitcom close to my heart. The first season of this show featured a large cast with a school marm sort who left Arnold, Willis, and Kimberly to the hands of someone else (and we all know how that turned out). One of the many cast members was my childhood idol, Molly Ringwald. By the second season, they pared down the cast and added a lesbian for no apparent reason. But back in the day, this show was actually rather edgy as we see in this clip where Natalie and Tootie buy a bong for Mrs. Garrett. The Weekly Cheese is brought to you by....

"The Facts of Life"



Extra special thanks to the beautiful, talented, and slightly demented Sister Mary Cliff for turning us on to this long-forgotten masterpiece. We'll be sending some thank-you bongs in her general direction.

Christopher Loves Memos!

Christopher just turned in his first major writing assignment in law school, the dreaded closed memo, by slipping two double-spaced copies of 2,698 words of sheer genius under his professor's door.

HAPPY DANCE TIME!!!!!

Now he just has to study for a legal research exam on Friday, finish his reading for Property and Torts, and then he can go to bed.






Dammit.

The Beast Within

Last night my pal Becca and I blew off our closed memo assignment (due Monday at 8:50 a.m.!) to zip up to Kings Island with a couple of other school friends for Pride Night. Some gay group in Cincinnasty rents the park for the night and use it as a fundraiser every year. I don't know the details and frankly, I don't care. I just know there is virtually no line for ANYTHING that night...rollercoasters, funnel cake and beer make for a happy Christopher! Now, I know I said I wasn't posting until after the memo is done unless something unbelievably funny happened. I would call us breaking The Beast pretty damn funny.

That's right, we broke the world's longest wooden roller coaster, or rather, Becca did.


It had been years since I had been on a rollercoaster, and since The Beast is widely considered the best wooden rollercoaster in the country, we wanted to hop that one first, so we grabbed cocktails nearby, chugged them, and hopped aboard the front car (again, no waiting! the wait is normally an hour!) with Becca, Luke, and my pals Jay, Jim, and Mike who we ran into near the beer stand. I panicked a wee bit when the ride started, and when the coaster reached the top of the first hill (picture from this guy) to drop us into the foliage in the dark night, I was screaming like a white woman. I'm told it was something like, "Sweet Jeebus, please let me off! I'll never touch another penis again, I promise!" Jay will have to confirm that for us.

Needless to say, the ride was a fantastic trip of terror! Becca got a bit more terror than the rest of us, though, because as the ride was coming to a finish, she felt a tightening around her neck. The scarf she was wearing had unraveled a bit, and had gotten stuck under the car! She was able to keep from choking pretty easily, but we couldn't get the scarf loose. The college kids running the ride had the brilliant idea that as the ride started back up, the next rider should be able to pull it out easily.




Of course she was not able to do so. As the cars traveled past us, I had a sinking feeling with the headline "Pride Night Disaster! Dykes Derailed by Straight Girl" stuck in my head. They got a very short way up the hill on the left (picture from this guy) when the ride was shut down. At this point, the queens waiting to ride the next cars were glaring at us, and I'm thinking, "These bitches are gonna come after us and beat us down!" I pull Becca away, begging her to forget her scarf and make a quick escape, but they all had some ridiculous sense of responsibility or some such nonsense.










After bringing in two golf carts of security folks and the park's entire maintenance staff, the poor dyke we stuck with the scarf was able to pull the scarf free without any of their help. They did get the coaster started again a bit later, but I'm still just floored that our goofy butts managed to break it in the first place. Becca refused to go back to the Beast later that night for fear the folks running it would throw us out. As we skipped through the park from ride to beer to ride, I know I saw some pointing and judgment in our general direction, like they were saying, "Those are the jackasses who broke the Beast...run to get in front of them so we can ride the next ride before they eff it up too!"

Oh, by the way, Becca got her scarf back. It is a knitted scarf from her mother that says, "You can't steal my joy." Evidently you can't, but you sure can mangle it and get it awfully greasy.