30 november 2000 . 03:52 pm PT
McDonald's puts a secret surprise in your happy meal! Gross. Thanks John, for thinking of me.

Major updates, including new pictures, coming v.v. soon. Cheers!

29 november 2000 . 10:18 am PT
Agh! You, Kristin Collins, yelling at me for not updating this page? I was at the parent's house (slow dial-up connection) AND I was trying to heal my poor leg by watching thousands and thousands of movies on the satellite tv. But now I am back in the hills, ready to give you everything I got for a little piece of mind.

20 november 2000 . 04:22 pm PT
Sorry I've been so short with you lately. Things have been going merrily-enough along, so I haven't spent as much time glued to the front of this screen as I need.

On Sunday: this piece in the Times magazine articulates what I often try to say about the Beatles to those who would shake their head, refuse to listen: the Beatles are amazing not necessarily because of the music or lyrics they left behind. The Beatles were were about being in love with music, with recognizing a new way to sing it/play. The freshness & vitality ... the potential ... the joy .... Heh. Yeah, I'm a fan.

I'm almost all packed to fly home for thanksgiving/my sister's 19th (woo!) birthday. It's too damn bad I ruined my lovely new coat today. It was accidentally left too close to a heater. Hence, the smoke, the oily smell. Do you know how alarming this is? I mean, the last apartment I lived in burned down on Jan. 01, 2000. Fire is not my friend.

But mashed potatoes and stuffing are. Mmmmm hmmm. *rubs belly* I"ll be around. Have a good one, everyone.

16 november 2000 . 07:34 pm PT
Do you want to see some pictures? Try this.

15 november 2000 . 01:31 pm PT
Here I am, waiting for Christa to pick me up and ship me off to the coffee shop. I've got poems brewing (do you think that will help me get a job? ha!) and I just can't stomach sitting on this couch any longer. The doctor told me yesterday that I am ahead of schedule with the bending, that I might even need to chill out on the knee activity. Not that he said "chill out," he's a well-aged white-haired kinda guy. When I was strung out on the operating table I babbled to everyone about how I was going to document all of this on the Web. They were like, "Web? How do you do that?", and then they went back to discussing their weekend plans in Tahoe. Sheesh. People with medical degrees aren't necessarily hip to the Internet, now are they? Just well-adjusted to blood. Which I suppose is good.

14 november 2000 . 11:26 pm PT
Well, there you are. Hi. I feel much better now, since I just bought a cheap-enough ticket home for the holidays. And rats are being milked on a "Simpsons" rerun. I drank several pots of coffee this morning and that has made all the difference. Not that I posted those pictures you're desperately waiting for. Ha!

I did listen to Elliott Smith's "Figure 8" repeatedly today, after shuffling out to see him perform at the Warfield last night. Live music: how can anything be wrong in the world when people want to sing and play for you? Elliott is best doing the acoustic bit, I think, because he's just not a hardrocking guy. Of course I was feeling pretty mellow at the show, because, cripple that I am, Jen & I scored a nice "reserved" table (we had to wear passes and everything!) after I looked confused and unsteady on my crutches. So, silver linings? Anyway, "Figure 8" gave me great joy once I finally made the effort to listen. Amazing lyrics (if you're into the sad, mopey, lovesick thing), unique voice (you know, raspy and high-pitched), and lush piano tinklings (is that even possible?).

Tomorrow I go back to the doctor for the removal of more stitches. The scars are really starting to itch, too. But the swelling is minor. I'm just worried I'm going to get in trouble b/c I probably haven't been bending enough. Bend, bend, bend. No walking, just the same damn bend, over and over.

13 november 2000 . 02:02 am PT
I'm _still_ playing on the Internet, when I should be posting pictures for you (we had an impromptu photo shoot today. killer stuff, wait till you see it. cheers to john & wendy!) I mean, look at gangcandy.com: there's just too much might-be-interesting stuff on it. And who has time to read Michael Moore's rant on Bush? Oh, me I guess. And I got all those links from Kempa.com. I love him.

13 november 2000 . 01:34 am PT
Sometimes floating around on the Internet, after a magical Sunday, with a cup of tea at my side, is too much to handle. I just happened on to altculture.com today, and it is just super. Who knew Steve Buscemi used to drive an ice cream truck? And was a fireman? The Larry Clark entry uses the word "anomic." Actually, I have to email the site editors tonight. The three links on the bottom of the Beck blurb are dead.

In other news, a game: Can you name the heftiest president of the United States? Email me your answer!

12 november 2000 . 01:29 pm PT
Since I kinda stopped paying for my weekend New York Times subscription, they stopped delivering the paper to my doorstep. Bastards. But, no matter, I went online instead (I'm a goddamn addict, I swear. but it's not like I can go outside and walk. so.) and found this random and fascinating page of old Polaroid pictures of people you know and love (Cameron Diaz, Christina Ricci, Jason Priestly, etc.).

11 november 2000 . 01:36 pm PT
I'm sorry about the lack of new pictures. I'm lazy. And I'm learning that even though it's hard, sometimes, to not be able to run and play (even if if only for a few weeks), there are still people out there who will pick me up, take me in a car with the windows rolled down, singing and laughing and cruising next to the angry waves, the afternoon sun, the jagged rocks dotted with sand, shat on by gulls, framed by that mysterious unreachable horizon ... and nothing else really matters. Not the parties, the job hunt, the unanswered emails. My scars will heal. My knee will bend. The sea continues to lap at the shore, never tiring of her sharp, gritty taste.

10 november 2000 . 01:48 pm PT
I have new knee pictures I plan on posting this afternoon, so stay tuned. And I have stories. Oh, yes there will be stories.

09 november 2000 . 12:57 pm PT
Election, schmelection! Last night I made my first social venture, crutching out to see "Requiem for a Dream." Totally intense. But I think it's made me quite depressed today. I just don't want to be old, lonely, and hooked on drugs, let alone live in a country governed by a complete buffoon.

08 november 2000 . 02:01 pm PT
This is one of those days when I desperately long for cable television. The network news stations offer only sporadic election updates, and even though there's not that much more to say, it's all I want to hear right now. Please check out Catherine's election links, it's all good stuff. I'm almost positive that Bush Jr. is going to claim the seat in the end, and I blame it all on Florida! Sunshine state my ass.

I got to take an all-wet shower today! And right now there's this strange burning numbness below my knee. Must be time for my pill.

08 november 2000 . 10:39 am PT
At about 1 am our time, Peter Jennings & George Stephanopoulos (yes!) were back on the air, melodramatically taking Florida off the map. Even though Peter was fading (I'm looking for some guidance here, he calls to the people behind the cameras) and George refused to commit to _anything_, it was good to have them in my life. We learned that the major presses had been stopped, that Gore called Bush to take back his earlier congratulations ... that the race was still on.

Now I'm watching "The View." This is what happens to a person when she 1) can't walk and 2) doesn't have a job. Ha!

07 november 2000 . 11:33 pm PT
Bush. Dammit.

07 november 2000 . 10:26 pm PT
This election is just too damn close. I'm so distracted, I can't even win a game of computer solitaire.

Am I a huge dork or what?

Okay, how about a museum display which "allows children to explore the functions and wonders of the human body." They can even peek into a (fake) toilet for the real "scoop on poop"!!! [via obscure store]

07 november 2000 . 07:02 pm PT
Bonnie and I just voted. Yes! I made it out of the house on my crutches, hobbled up my hilly street to a neighbor's garage. The kind people of Cole Valley let me move to the front of the line (poor cripple girl), and, with felt tip pen in hand, I made my contribution to democracy. It's going to be a close one, huh? Even though some "friends" of mine tried at the last minute to convince me Nader was our man, I stuck to my guns, and gave Gore my support. It had to be done.

In knee news, I got new bandages this afternoon after they removed some stitches. You know what that means: full-color pictures are in your very near future!

06 november 2000 . 07:27 pm PT
Another "Friends" re-run is on, hooray! Today I let the pills lull me into unconsciousness. I figured out how to turn over on my side (it was too painful before), so sleep has finally reached a point of comfort. I did not exit the house, sad to say, but tomorrow I have to get to the doctor's office and, you know, cast my ballot. Voting is a huge production in California, because of these endless "propositions" we have to decide between. I might need to study up on Props A through K tonight in preparation.

06 november 2000 . 12:59 am PT
I had such ambitious plans of posting new pictures and such for you. Sad to say, I did not come through. I was working on other geeked-out projects. Tomorrow? Tomorrow!

05 november 2000 . 11:35 pm PT
My roommate and I just watched "Center Stage." And, lord forgive us, we liked it. I'll have you know it was a recent dance class that destroyed my knee. Yes, I was going to learn how to fly, high, and for about three months I was faithfully kick-ball-changing all over the place. It felt great in theory but it was anti-great when you looked deep inside at the progressively damaged cartilage. But, nevermind. I WILL dance again! Be afraid.

Today was the 4rth day in a row of complete and utter do-nothingness. I mean, I was reading and writing and eating and, you know, stealing as many songs as possible from Napster ... but I haven't left the house! Monday, oh monday monday, I'm going to hobble down the stairs and break my face on the sweet sunshine.

Can you sense the painkillers still in my system? Glorious drugs.

03 november 2000 . 03:11 pm PT
Is it wrong that I'm almost disappointed the surgery went so well? I mean, what happened to the hours of wailing I was prepared for? Do I have to send back the flowers, potbelly buddha statue, and hand cream (thanks everyone!)?? Now I have to, like, read or something. Or I guess I could scoot around the apartment in my Breezy 500 wheelchair. Hey, why don't you come over for a test drive?

02 november 2000 . 08:31 pm PT
Lordy! These are some damn fine drugs! Friends, I am happy to report that I am 1) alive 2) hooked up to an ice machine, in front of my tv 3) composing a grand report on what it's like to watch the men in green hack away at your bones 4) completely whacked out of my head on sedatives. Sad to say, I can't remove the bandages just yet. So no pictures of bloody holes until next week. Rest assured, I have some good tales to tell (have you ever heard a doctor utter the words "gonhorrhea of the eyeball"?), but right now I'm going to sleep. *blows kisses*

01 november 2000 . 10:27 pm PT
I have to wake up at 6 am in order to comb my hair, throw some crap into a bag, and hussle to the hospital up the hill. The "doctor" is going to attack my right knee to repair my ruptured ACL, figure out what to do with the displaced/torn meniscus, and assess the other complicated damage inside my oft-injured joint.

How did this all come to pass? Ah, it was three years ago, one humid summer day on a trampoline. But that story I'll spare for another late night in front of the WB. Or maybe I'll just wait to see if you care. And then do something about it.

Right now I'm just trying to forget about the upcoming pain, or the four weeks I must slog through before I can put weight on the cursed leg. I guess I invented this little web project to amuse myself during my incarceration. I mean, I live in San Francisco, without a car, on a hilly street! Crutches are not recommended.

But, whatever. It'll pass. And in the meantime I'll tell you stories or give you links or at least share some gruesome post-op pictures. Right on!