welcome.
crazyknee.com is:
a personal Web page launched Nov. 1, 2000,
the day Leanne had ACL/meniscus repair performed
on her right leg. Hence the "crazy knee."
This page will be updated in some weekly way.

20 november 2002 . 09:57 am PT
Look at that! A mid-week update! This is just to let you know that I will NOT be writing anything in this space on Sunday night. I will be in the eastern time zone for a few days, one of those days being my sister's 21st birthday. Yeow. (Not that anyone saw this update because right when I tried to post it, everything crashed and the airport shuttle pulled to my door.)

17 november 2002 . 11:59 pm PT
I've got to halt this once-weekly update thing. It's getting old. We need more surprises.

"8 Mile": Eminem's life story doesn't stack up as the most original film I've seen (not even close), but I'll say this: Marshall Mathers has some kind of screen presence. Somehow we ended up sitting in the crowded theater between two very vocal Em supporters. There were screams, and occasional handshakes, said handshakes delivered across our laps.

I'm heading to Maryland on Wednesday. I'm hoping my mom can give me tips for the 10.5-person Thanksgiving that will be served (*gulp*) at my house in approx. 11 days. I'm putting money down on an organic turkey tomorrow. How Californian! Speaking of the golden state, I think it's my civil duty to inform east coast/mid-west readers of the mid-60s weather we've got going on around here. Fall, winter? Here it's always spring. Wendy, what do you think about that?

Leanne, how about you?

10 november 2002 . 11:50 pm PT
Rain! It's been months since it rained here, and everyone is in an uproar now that the storms are back. Stairs and streets and leaves are wet, awnings are dripping, and there are deep puddles to dodge. But I had forgotten how it feels to curl up in bed as the rain pounds windows and walls. It's okay though, I've had enough, bring on the sun.

Jen actually requested more pictures of my cat. So there you go, Jen, enjoy. I'd also like to take a moment to log my roommates's deep affection for the beast. I've heard both women, sensible and smart as they are, talk to this cat, have conversations with her even. She's never going to answer back! She can't read! Or dance!

This portfolio of creepy suburbia shots (from the New York Times Magazine) is first-rate. Make sure to go behind the scenes as well.

I voted on Tuesday, I hope you did. One vote never decides things, but it counts. And that's my lecture for today. Now we're going to see if Prop N alleviates the SF homeless situation. The 2,895 homeless adults in this city will now receive $59 a month instead of the $395 they're used to. I think it's gonna get ugly.

"Bowling for Columbine": Does America operate on fear? Do 11,000 people die in the U.S. each year by gunfire because of Marilyn Manson? Or is it because of Africanized killer bees? Michael Moore raises poignant questions in his documentary. Disturbing, interesting, and you'll hang with Charlton Heston at home (in his gated complex, where Heston keeps loaded guns on hand. For protection.) It's also a very funny film (when you're not watching people die at Columbine). I especially enjoyed the footage of a teenager with 20 guns of varying size packed in his (or her!) baggy jeans. Ah, now I see, that's what the bouncers are looking for as I enter the concert hall or airport, it's the rifle jammed down the back of my pants. Bang bang shoot shoot.

NaNoWriMo update: No comment.

Did we know this? Rhett Miller "and The Instigators" play the FILLMORE 12/05. Geeeeeeeez. I mean have you checked RhettMiller.com? Barf. My spies in New Orleans saw Rhett at the Parish this weekend, and found him staggering the streets later the same evening. "Oh I do love that stuff," slurs Rhett, in reference to whiskey. Now that's the spirit.

03 november 2002 . 10:59 pm PT
Holy Jim Jesus! Listen to THIS. It features a very inebriated Catwoman. Saying something about luuuuuuuunch, luuuuuuunch, LUUUUUUNCH. Just listen, and laugh. (Thanks to Glass Onion for inspiring the phone message, and for posting it online.)

George Clooney, during "E.R." days, brought home $40,000 a week. That. Is. A. Lot. Read his true confessions.

National Novel Writing Month is upon us. I signed up at the last minute, if for no other reason but to guilt kick myself into writing something, anything. Last year, 700 people reached the 50,000-word goal in one month's time. This year, I will try to join the talented few, and pen a rough rough rough draft of my Great American Heartbreaking Staggering Novel. And I will fail. The NaNoWriMo site is much improved this year -- search for participants by name or location, cruise the discussion boards for tips and encouragement (or to laugh at these fools who think they can write a novel in a MONTH.).

Those crazy Californians: While Tuesday's vote is big big big around here (public power? Save Hetch Hetchy? Care or cash for the homeless?), the town of Biggs has a more pressing issue at hand: deciding whether to change its name to Got Milk?, Calif. "Some people don't think the idea is very funny," says the town mayor, "but on the whole people have a good sense of humor." My god. Pack your bags and MOVE, people!

On Oct. 31, 300,000 costumed freaks gathered to celebrate Halloween two blocks from our house. We donned wigs and slipped out to join the action, until the overwhelming amount of people drove us back home, behind double-locked doors. We didn't see anyone get stabbed (it happened) but we did think it was odd how the ambulance was stopped, lights flashing, in the middle of the chaos.

Wendy (above) is Super Fly. We don't know this bloody guy (below) and those are Molly's FAKE boobs:

The neighborhood school kids were chanting and banging drums outside our house on Halloween day. I leaned out the window overhead and shot these extremely exciting photos:

p.s. Very happy birthday wishes to Kelly L.! Yeah, I didn't send a card. I was writing my novel, you see.