welcome.
If you're curious, crazyknee.com is:
a personal Web page (a blog, even) created by Leanne H. Milway. The page was launched Nov. 1, 2000, the day she had ACL/meniscus repair performed on her right leg.
Hence the "crazy knee."
This page will be updated in some weekly way.

30 january 2002 . 11:52 pm PT
Did you hear about this? Since Attorney General John Ashcroft can't stand being photographed in front of half-naked people, a team trained in these matters bought $8,000 drapes to cover the giant statues in the Great Hall of the Department of Justice. Check out the photo of Ashcroft perched under a bronze nipple the size of his head!

Extra credit project, in three parts: 1. Print and read Susan Orlean's "Meet the Shaggs," about three untalented sisters who became obscure music history. Their father forced them to play rock&roll from 1968 to 1973. They were really no good, but they try very hard. Somehow, their album (only one thousand copies) became standard fare for collectors (and freaks). It is a great story. 2. Download "Philosophy of the World" by the Shaggs. The music and lyrics are just shockingly ... weird. And bad. 3. Put one of your favorite albums on the turntable and appreciate (yet again) the rare and beautiful talent of true rock musicians.

I experimented with wearing my collar turned-up today. Be thankful it did not work out.

"Why you keep looking at my titties?" So shouts D.C.'s queen of bingo, that's right, bingo, and she's looking at you. Explore the strange underworld of the 'Bingo Bitch' in an awesome story by Dan Steinberg.

January has gone so fast. This may have been the fastest January on record.

28 january 2002 . 10:05 pm PT
It's good to keep up with The Night Cabbie and imagine being the person in the back seat. This week's column is key, because we get a clue about the Cabbie's looks. And Bonnie should read close, because one of her favorite singers makes an appearance.

Speaking of celebrities, I got up close and personal (as if!) with Ethan Zohn this Saturday; he's the "Survivor" guy, $1M richer after 39 days in the African desert. Which seems to have given him an incredible tan. He's shorter than you think (5'7") but the curly hair is absolutely great. He's very cute. "So you're the big winner!" I said, punching him on the arm after we were introduced. He smiled, gleaming teeth flashing. My god, this link: SurvivorHunks.com/EthanZohn/. Does the dude know this stuff exists? Unbelievable. Because he's a "TV star," we all have these raised expectations about how he'll act, or the witty conversations he'll lead (it didn't happen), but he's just a normal guy who is now quite famous. It has to mess with your head. (Dave Eggers falls into this same category.)

Anyway, my roommate Kristina worked on Ethan more than I did at the party, and she says he says Howard Stern is really nice, Dave Letterman is a jerk. He also cleaned up afterwards. I mean, it's 4:30am, not his house, he's a millionaire, and he's collecting half-empties. Nice.

WilWheaton.net is nominated for a 2002 Bloggie. Normal guy + famous = super-popular award-winning weblog?

26 january 2002 . 02:14 pm PT
Catherine is a huge pain in my ass.

The Godly Business Woman Magazine.

25 january 2002 . 01:02 pm PT
Time waste: Finalists for this year's SXSW Website competition are compiled here. The only one in the Weblog category that I recognize is Blogdex. And they just steal from other blogs! Cheaters!

P.S. Catherine: Thanks for the copy editing "help" but I will continue to make up words as I see fit. I think Bush vs. the Pretzel is much more of a gerfluffle (the grrrrrr sound denotes the pretzel being stuck in his poor little throat) than a kerfuffle. But what the foobah do I know.

Look upon the short-but-talented Travis of the Dismemberment Plan (performing at the Black Cat, D.C.). I decided I do not need to see the D-Plan again at Noise Pop. I can't handle so much. Even though I should go, because at the D.C. show I spent a bit too long in the bathroom talking to this dirty punk rock girl who claimed she was an anarchist and a squatter. Fascinating!

Right now, I'm listening to Jack Johnson's "Brushfire Fairytales" (burned for my listening pleasure by the Great Wendy). It's straight-up good: one cute guy, low-key arrangements, smart lyrics, mellow, etc. But ... this dude sold out TWO NIGHTS at the Fillmore in a matter of days. Who are the cool kids that snapped up the tickets? Where do they come from? How do they know? I mean, even Ryan "Gold" Adams didn't get two nights at the Fillmore (of course, Wilco got three). But, uh, Ryan is now playing the much-larger (boo!) Warfield. And I might have to go. I now have, like, all of his oeuvre. I guess when I fight something so hard, it hits me even harder from behind. Dammit. I also have The Strokes on constant rotation. I thought I could deny the hype. Alas, I am weak. WEAK.

23 january 2002 . 04:22 pm PT
First off, let me present you with the hospital bill I just received. Four nights with some intensive care: $17,704.99. No joke, holy shit. Of course, we're waiting for the insurance to cover its part (right? right?). My (crazy)knee surgery cost approximately $4,000. Lesson learned: let the ligaments go before the kidneys. Ligaments before kidneys, my new mantra.

Me, I'm very behind on so many things. Mainly pictures. It's going to be a long, slow process. But it will happen. In case you were worried.

And here are two pictures from the recent East Coast Get Sick Tour, featuring Ryan Cormier. The first is shot in Grotto's Pizza, the other is in the New Year's Eve limo:

It's true, I have updated the Books Page! Yesterday I started reading David Foster Wallace's "Brief Interviews with Hideous Men" because I found the hardcover for $4.98. Couldn't pass it up.

Poetry fans, here's a poem a day for 180 days. Poet Laureate Billy Collins (one of my very favorites) set it up for American high schools. But you can check it out even if you're "beyond" high school.

San Francisco friends, the great Dine About Town deal (prix-fixe dining at some of the fancy fancy places) has been extended through Feb. 10. Me, I'm looking for a date.

Here's me, Catherine and John at the luxurious Harford Mall in Bel Air, Maryland (photos by John). Let me tell you, when I was growing up there was no Victoria's Secret, Gap or any such mainstream business in our pathetic little mall, which was built next to a cow pasture (long gone now). We mostly went to the mall for the buffet at Horn & Horn. How times change.

Hoo boy, I just came across my first Kentucky State quarter. Apparently, the Tennessee one (it's got a guitar!) is in circulation too. Dad: I've been collecting all of them from the Denver Mint. I hope you're keeping up your end of the deal and gathering those with the Philly mint mark. I do love these quarters. Who knew Ohio is the "birthplace of aviation pioneers"? Astronauts and Guided by Voices! Of course!

17 january 2002 . 12:43 am PT
Take a look at the way the international media covered Bush's pretzel gerfluffle. Pretty funny. USATODAY ran a sidebar on how the pretzel industry is in a slump compared to the other snack foods. Prez execs are debating whether the latest headlines will help, or hinder. I lost the link to the original story, but you wouldn't read it anyway. Just be assured that USATODAY is on the ball.

Beth Lisick reports in this week's Buzz Town (1st item) that Dave Eggers has moved McSweeneys to San Francisco. Apparently the latest edition of the literary magazine is back from Iceland. I'm NOT going to buy it. I swear. I never ever read the thing, no matter how cool it looks.

Find out, once and for all, why ninjas are cool.

Thanks to the outpouring of email concern about my health. I am feeling almost completely up to par. If "par" means I'm still too weak to walk up the damn hill to my apartment. *wipes brow*

And I just got back from finally seeing "Lord of the Rings." I give it an all-thumbs up. Adventure & fantasy are good things in my book.

14 january 2002 . 10:54 pm PT
I, uh, just spent four nights in the hospital, fevers of 102 and IVs all up and down my left arm. Both my kidneys were developing raging infections, little to my knowledge, while I was back on the other coast. So I continued to "have fun" and not really take care of my blood sugars. This behavior, along with the infection, eventually led me into diabetic ketoacidosis. Which is a very bad thing. That's what actually sent me to the emergency room, what with the puking, rapid breathing, elevated heart rate, and general sick-as-a-dog feeling. Sicker than any dog I know. I actually threw up in one of those bags on the airplane ride back here. And when I got home, I laid in bed and worried about calling 911 on myself. I guess I like to start a new year (our last palindrome year! remember 1991? it was killer.) with a bang. *boom*

I'd say I have a history for disastrous Januarys: 1) January 2000. My D.C. apartment catches fire and I escape to California five days later. 2) January 2001. I'm actively limp/walking after my (crazy)knee surgery, so I go out dancing, straining the still-recovering ligament. I still have a limp. 3) Party, puking, hospitalization.

Being in the hospital is not all bad. They kindly wake you up every four hours to test your "vitals." Sometimes you get a roommate with exceptional lung power who screams "help! help! help!" all night long. The nurses would laugh at her. I wanted to cry myself to sleep. And as they filled up vials (and vials and vials) of my blood, they were always sure to tell me I had great veins.

I would like to send my eternal love and gratitude to my friends, for they brought me magazines, electronics and clean underwear in the hospital. And to my friends back east, who showed me such a good time that it was a key factor in my physical breakdown. And, of course, love to my long-suffering family, who have by now learned to deal with this kind of news. *blows kisses*

I have loads of pictures and anecdotes for you, but at the moment I'm too weak. Here's a picture I took of myself on New Year's Eve in the bathroom of the Apollo Theater. I don't know why I look so sad (or what is going on with my hair). Maybe I had a premonition of what was in store:

No worries now. It's getting better all the time. And think of all the fun the talk-show hosts will have on our silly presidential pretzel-choker! This picture explains it all. Jesus christ. Certainly can't get no worse.