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.

31 july 2002 . 11:43 pm PT
But it's my birthday so I'm allowed.

28 july 2002 . 11:43 pm PT
I'm working on a feature article about Charles Dickens for the next issue of Bookmarks Magazine. CHARLES DICKENS. It's like a high school English paper gone bad. Did you know Dickens had an 18-year-old mistress when he was near 50? Did you know he was a lifelong theater lover, who nearly chose acting over writing? Did you know he died of a brain aneurysm before solving the murder in his last novel (published in chapter-length serials) "The Mystery of Edwin Drood"? Fascinating. *rolls eyes*

Saw Ben Kweller (he's stellar!) this weekend. That little guy can rock. Wendy bought a souvenir toothbrush.

I'm too tired to fill in any more blanks at zee moment. God wants you to forgive. Public service announcement: It's my birthday Wednesday (07/31); please call and/or write. You're the greatest.

21 july 2002 . 10:10 pm PT
I didn't take any pictures during my recent NYC vacation and the ensuing Meltdown in PA. Sometimes the camera and I have to go our separate ways. And amid the heat, the crush, the sensory overload of Manhattan, I had enough trauma just trying to find my way home. For example, upon exiting my gracious host's apartment, I was ambushed by a gigantic rat:

A little crazy, no? So that's the only picture I took. Apparently the inflated rat is protesting unjust construction work. Is that right? It doesn't make any sense so I refuse to figure it out.

Also in NYC, I found out I won a contest in which Bob Pollard of Guided by Voices fame would take ME on a tour of the Brooklyn Brewery, and give me beers, and drive me to his concert that night. Elation! Three days later, devastation. The show was canceled, the brewery tour postponed, and I'm two thousand miles away. The peaks and valleys of life, man.

If you're so inclined, feel free to visit Catherine's Pithy Pita for an exciting visual recap of the Meltdown (aka Big Party in the Bothum's Backyard). Live rock and roll! Hundreds of mosquitos! Fire! Beer! Meatballs! Randi and Nathan also do their part to explain what happened that night to those of us who just aren't sure anymore.

Cube life got you down? Why not post your free personal ad online. Do a quick search on Yahoo!, Match, Lavalife, or Nerve for cuties in your zip code. I'm serious folks, this Internet dating thing is hitting the BIG TIME. Everyone's talking about it! And not just people (like me) who work in the industry. I'm serious! Keep watch for an AP story about the phenomenon soon.

Note the byline: "Save Yourself!: How to reap the benefits of self-defense classes."

Slice of life: Here's me and my sister this past July 4 in Mission Dolores Park.

Next action item: Decide which Ladyfest events to attend this week. Oh yeah, and figure out what to do for my birthday (July 31). Also must say final (?) good-byes to people like Pam and Bonnie who are leaving town for graduate schools in other cities (Chicago, NYC). My my.

And thinking these thoughts, as I have been this evening, I want to leave you with a poem. One by Wislawa Szymborska, who is absolutely fabulous. I realize that very few people truly appreciate poetry. Why should you? What is it for? I couldn't say. And it's not going to matter either way.

FOUR A.M.

The hour between night and day.
The hour between toss and turn.
The hour of thirty-year-olds.

The hour swept clean for roosters' crowing.
The hour when the earth takes back its warm embrace.
The hour of cool drafts from extinguished stars.
The hour of do-we-vanish-too-without-a-trace.

Empty hour.
Hollow. Vain.
Rock bottom of all other hours.

No one feels at four a.m.
If ants feel fine at four a.m.,
we're happy for the ants. And let five a.m. come
if we've got to go on living.

11 july 2002 . 12:51 am PT
No one noticed that my last entry sported the wrong MONTH in the dateline? Or you did notice and were too polite to tell me? Very suspicious.

Did you know the kids in Nigeria love to smoke lizard poop? because it gets you high? "Since I discovered the use of lizard dung I have found peace because whenever I smoke it with tobacco all my worries are gone," claims one enterprising young man.

If you like to read books but can't figure out which one to pick up next, why not let Bookmarks Magazine help you decide. This magazine is where it's at, or so says the LA Times (registration required). And so says me, since I write for it.

TODAY is the anniversary of the birth of Berlin, Connecticut's own Kim Fenn. Here is a picture of her (I know you've seen it before but doesn't she look like a rock star?). Happy birthday, Kimmy:

I'm heading East. In just a few hours. Excitement simmers, boils.

07 june 2002 . 09:44 pm PT

Well, hello! I hope you all celebrated our nation's birthday with fireworks and food. As I did. Downtown SF they had dual fireworks displays going at the exact same syncopated time. So from way out here, on a high-enough hill, on an unseasonably clear night, you could see double the expected number of fireworks. Quite excellent. Even more fun were the illegal fireworks young kids were igniting in the middle of the street (under adult supervision -- said adults being slightly drunk, dancing around waving a flag and singing "America the Beautiful"). Josh Withers supplied us with a few bottle rockets so, whee!, hooray, yippee, thank god no one lost an eye. Earlier we watched the SF Mime Troupe debut its original musical "Mr. Smith Goes to Obscuristan" (mmm, sure) and later we watched "Harry Potter" on the new DVD player (thank you, Milways!). U! S! A!

My family was West Coast for almost two weeks straight. I accompanied my parents and my sister to Reno, Nevada, to visit the family there and to swim in a large hotel pool. I went out in a boat with my uncle, my aunt, my cousin, my dad, and two little dogs ... there was fishing and these amazing rocks and even a few cows. Lonely cows, out there, in the middle of Pyramid Lake.

Oh, yeah, I don't have any pictures of the cows. But they were there, in front of that huge rock formation. And a hot water geyser! Nevada is crazy country, yo.

Also last week, I made my first visit to Alcatraz (with the visiting family). See here:

Holly and I took in the Yoko Ono exhibit at the MoMa as well. It's kinda ... lame (we will only ever truly love John Lennon). She's created some very exciting all-white chess sets, so you like never know what side you're playing on! Heavy.

Psycho crackbaby. That's me. (Thanks to Ms. Hopkinson. Trying my own google-bombing experiment here. Because this is MY WORLD.)

OH! and mucho thanks to Mr. John Chabalko for getting the 4137 network up and running. Now the entire household is online all the time. The future is now!

Beep beep yeah: Follow along as Mr. Mark Contois calculates how much it's actually worth to own a car in the city. Do you think you can factor in the emotional expense of driving around people like me?

Upcoming: The Meltdown. In New Cumberland, Penn. If you don't know what I'm talking about then you're (probably) not invited.

If you're bored this week, why not try riding in the back of a rental car on a hot day with two little dogs? Yeah, why not? Best of luck to you, mate. I'll be seeing you real soon.