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.

29 may 2002 . 11:36 pm PT
Crazy Knee has a new set of stairs to climb! Yes, we're moving. This weekend. To a big blue Victorian flat. Where we'll serve iced tea on the sun porch. There will be no hills to climb at our central location. One can grab coffee or buy Tibetan knickknacks wearing only one's bedroom slippers, it's that close!

For right now this means: I am trying to pack, to order a new high-speed Internet connection, to scrub this nasty kitchen floor (we just pretend it's supposed to look like that). And I have to skim all these magazines in search of collage material. I can't just throw them away. It's not that simple.

Saw "Attack of the Clones." Right right. Like, the shroud of the Dark Side is upon us.

Here are my super hero friends walking in the Bay to Breakers rain:

And here is my cat in the sink:

22 may 2002 . 11:59 pm PT
I saw the magazine articles popping up all over the place about David Blaine (media whore), but I didn't read them or nothing. I did, however, watch the dude leap into a pile of cardboard boxes after balancing on a tall pole for 35 hours. Always a good time. Make sure to check out Catherine's early on-the-spot reporting of this mind-boggling (silly) event. "God bless us all," he says when it's all over. Well, okay. Do that.

Blaine got me thinking about the remarkable magic tricks of Joe Kavalier, and I was wishing I had that novel here with me, next to me, in my hands. Ah, well. Someone else is enjoying it as we speak (Brooke, you better be!). This just in: two trustworthy readerly friends tell me that "The Amazing Adventures of Kavalier and Clay" is now on their list of all-time-top books. (Go ahead, taste test the first chapter.)

In other pop culture news: "Spider-Man" is a Very Fun film; Katie Raygun is a fictional teen-ager created by a man; Wilco frontman Jeff Tweedy looks ridiculous in a swing.

Earlier this evening: Witnessed the last gasp of life from a young-adult television drama. "Felicity," we grew up with you. Tonight was your two-hour good-bye. With all the time travel, psychosis and wiccan voodoo involved, it could have been an episode of "Buffy." But it wasn't. And Felicity chose Ben, again. And there was a wedding and everyone went ha ha ha boo hoo hoo. Just the way I like it. Life is pain; life is bliss.

17 may 2002 . 02:37 pm PT
So yes, I now have a personal ad up for your viewing pleasure, and I'm entertaining offers (it's all for my latest _job_ I assure you). But, it's quite fun. No shame. Salon.com explains how online dating is changing all the rules. Breaking the law, breaking the law!

Ready, set, The Go Game. Check this out. It's billed as (and I quote) "an all-out urban adventure game, a technology-fueled, reality-based experience that encourages hard play and a keen eye for the weird, the beautiful, or the faintly out-of-the-ordinary." Sounds great, like an inner-city scavenger hunt ... but oh no. It's actually "the next-generation of team-building activities." Gag. But they do offer a monthly community game. Here in SF. I would encourage someone to sign up and try it out with me, but there is no way I'm gonna be caught dancing around in the Mission wearing tights. I mean, not again.

Whygodwhy.com. Funny as HELL 15-year-old girl. She's bitter. She's pissed. And she can play a mean game of RED HOT FORK.

Now listening to new Weezer (yes! distorted rock/pop) and new Tom Waits (can a man's voice by any scratchier? I think not). I bought both albums this morning, see, and my favorite record store clerk rang me up (ding! ding! ding!). I was telling him how red is the new black, but he said orange was the new NEW black. We're already having arguments, isn't that cute.

Concert alert: Gillian Welch + David Rawlings at the Fillmore, June 28 and 29. Do you know Billy Bob Thornton is playing there tomorrow night? What is up with that. I don't get it.

This weekend: the world's largest footrace (and drunken costume party). We will be walking the 7+ miles from Bay to Breakers (starts at 8am on Sunday my LORD). My "team" (ha) are going as super heroes. Super Fly, Super Tramp, Super Glue ... Super Bowl. Yeah, that's me.

I now see crazy license tags all over the city. And me without a camera EVERY TIME. Dag nabbit. Spotted in the greater Philadelphia area: KHOLED. Nice!

11 may 2002 . 12:59 pm PT

The Anointed Jackson Sisters inspire you to raise the roof for God; Buckwheat Zydeco preach how "everything's gonna be all right, party all night;" the sun rises on Monday and Rebirth (a 9-piece horn band; Kristina & I gave Derek a backrub afterward, oh they worked SO HARD for us) still sweats and blows for a crazed crowd ... who knew, who knew how fun it could be. Add to that 90 degrees, 90 percent humidity, and a ton of light beer. Stir in some crawfish, some gumbo, more beer. Mix in plastic beads, crazed cab drivers, stumbling tourists, and a long night by the Mississippi River. That's it, New Orleans Jazz and Heritage Festival, hello.

We did rest, in Charles's fabulous apartment. Chris and Kristina show you how it's done:

New Orleans is unlike any other town: you arrive, and immediately begin drinking. It's the law. You carry drinks with you down the street, out of bars, and into cabs. The cops have given up; residents throw their trash on street corners. We stayed in the French Quarter, right near the druggie teens on Decatur street, the heavenly ribs at Verdi Marte. Midgets walk by at regular intervals; drunks dying of spine cancer give you presents (that you throw away because of the smell) and a song. Nothing like it.

This ESPN columnist covered the Super Bowl (which happened to occur in New Orleans during Mardi Gras my god) and describes the town at the height of her powers (and he's funny). You know, a cabbie told us 250,000 people visit for Jazz Fest; three million come for Mardi Gras. The town shuts down for two, three, four weeks every year. Woah. But I can't wait to go back.

I have more things to share (don't I always say this shit?) and more pictures and more links but right NOW I must prepare for the 2nd Annual Whiffle Ball in the Park Extravaganza. Remember last year? Yep, it's that time again.

03 may 2002 . 12:41 am PT
D'oh, I'm still packing and it's off to New Orleans in the morning. It's the last weekend of Jazz Fest and good times await. If/when I return, I'll be sure to share some stories/photos. Happy Cinco de Mayo! Booyah!

02 may 2002 . 04:01 pm PT
It's Ms. Bonnie Burke's birthday! Bravo, Bonnie, bravo. We love ya.

Geoge W., lookin' goooood.

My latest photography project is to document the personalized license tags these Californians are crazy about. To kick things off, here are three cars parked on my street:

Thumbs up to Jay Bennett's "The Palace at 4 am" (oh sure there's another guy on there, but Crazy Knee only likes ex-Wilco members). Jay's voice is no match for Tweedy's broken warble (did I just write that?) but it'll do, pig. It'll do.

Check out rumpshaker.net for a photo recap of Saturday's fabulous party. Can't wait for the next one.

Oh god please make me stop: