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.

28 october 2001 . 11:39 pm PT
I am, again, listening to Wilco's "Yankee Hotel Foxtrot." This was probably the most-anticipated title on my album-to-get list, for a long time coming (thanks to John for stealing it from the Internet). And I am not disappointed. You wanna know how I feel, as I'm listening? This: Oh, joy!

A quick comparison of Ryan Adams's lyrics (a) to Jeff Tweedy's lyrics (b):

a. Love don’t play any games with me / Anymore like she did before / World won’t wait so I better shake / That thing right out there through the door / Hell, I still love you New York

b. I'm down on my hands and knees every time the doorbell rings / I shake like a toothache when I hear myself sing / All my lies are always wishes / I know I would die if I could come back new

Draw your own conclusions, yo.

I saw "Waking Life" tonight. Roger Ebert says this movie is like "a cold shower of bracing, clarifying ideas." It's one of those all-talk movies, all these words coming at you, and it hits you in waves, with meaning occasionally breaking through. The "answers" surface, and burst, and disappear. This present moment will live on, and become long ago. That kind of thing. It's Good Stuff. But don't expect any kind of plot, or action, or romance. Just musings on the meaning behind It All. And the animation effects are kick-ass.

Also this weekend: re-watched "Pulp Fiction." That is such an amazing amazing movie. I remember being totally obsessed with that film, back in 1994. I would memorize quotes, practice the dance moves, read the script and hope to write something similar. As if.

What else, that you might care about? My "White Trash" Halloween costume was well-received. Emmylou Harris sounds lovely singing as the fog settles in the trees. I have only just begun a series of Here's My Cat photos.

Last words, courtesy of Jeff Tweedy: Tall buildings shake / voices escape / singing sad sad songs . . .

26 october 2001 . 02:35 pm PT
Excitement is building about the novel writing project. Even the notorious Kristin Collins has signed on! I haven't heard a peep about any participation from the NYC writer contingent, but you all got a few days to decide. Two of my favorite soon-to-be novelists can be seen here, Mark Contois & Jennifer King. Join us!

In other new news, I have a cat. Yeah. This is Day Two and Maya doesn't want to budge from under my bed, except at 3:30 am. Dude. I want to pet my kitties in the day, okay? So to punish her for hiding, I flashed a bright light in her eyes. In my opinion, cats are meant to be teased. Woo! Cat torture! Yeah!

Hard to believe: Psychic John Edward was going to televise a seance in which he would "communicate" with victims of the WTC attacks. The idea was, thankfully, canned.

Good read: Denzel Washington watches & analyzes "Ordinary People."

More movie news: The other night Wendy scored us free passes to "Life as a House," the new (sappy; trying hard to be "American Beauty") flick starring Kevin Kline as a dying man with a troubled son. They build a house together. People cry. The drug-abusing son is played by Hayden Christensen (soon to star as Anakin Skywalker in Episodes II and III) and oh boy that young man is ... fun to watch. *sigh* Made it worth the price of the film. Heh.

As a Friday afternoon treat, check out this photo from the archives:

25 october 2001 . 03:40 pm PT
I'm about to write my first novel. No joke. And I implore you to join me, since November is National Novel Writing Month. Thirty days, 50,000 words. Quantity over quality. That's approx. seven pages a day, and it can be seven pages of crap. Come on! Contois and some of his cohorts are in. You want to do this, I know! When else will you get to scream at people to leave you alone because you've just got to finish your novel! We all dream of doing this, plan on doing this, so let's just do it. I'm quite excited (and incredibly nervous). This is the third year for this (ridiculous? insane? genius?) idea to be put to the test. Previous NaNoWriMo alum share helpful tips, and it looks like liquor is a requirement. Read the FAQ, sign up, start plotting. What have you got to lose??

23 october 2001 . 11:44 pm PT
Reporting back after poetry class: that's me, right here. I suppose I should encourage you to read more poems, or something?

And, alright CATHERINE, I love the hype. I totally do. How else would I know ... anything? Here the Village Voice explains why I've got to get that damn Strokes album everyone is talking about (including the always-reliable Peter Bothum). I cannot resist the hype. I crave the hype. I LIVE THE HYPE. (Oh, and I finally read that RS article about Ryan Adams, you know, the one I linked to earlier? I'm most impressed that his new band has a song called "Fuck it, I Broke Your Cat." Hype or no hype, that's rad.)

Neglected: The Writer's Bloc. Are you guys keeping count? This here is another UD alum, keeping a blog, snapping pictures, working at the New York Times (yeow). Check it.

Free stuff in the park this weekend: the first-ever Strictly Bluegrass Festival (Emmylou Harris! Alison Krauss!) and on Sunday, it's Pet Pride Day, featuring a parade and a costume contest for dogs. No shit. The "extreme canines" will also be out in full-force. Woof.

23 october 2001 . 12:27 pm PT
I hope you saw this, in the London Times: FBI considers torture as suspects stay silent. Funny, none of the US media seems to be picking this one up. The story says since the "usual" methods have failed to make the suspects talk, truth drugs and pressure tactics (among other things) are being considered. The investigators are frustrated. Aren't we all.

23 october 2001 . 12:05 am PT
First-person account of a suicide attempt. Sick, yes. And gripping.

Just FYI: I'm not buying all this Ryan "Gold" Adams hype. Yes, he's got a couple kickin' songs. But he's no Bob Dylan! Or Jeff Tweedy! Never will be! I mean, do you remember Pete Yorn? Cute guy, good songs. Hmmm. Yeah, I'm just a big doubter. But that's my _thing_. Can't help it. And I think Contois had some insider scoop on the new alt-country It Boy, by way of a girl Adams "dated." Must follow up on that and report back.

18 october 2001 . 06:22 pm PT
You really should read Cormier's recap (scroll down) of this news story headlined "Transsexual held in castration death." Also worthy of note: the story is dated March 14. I think Mr. Pulpy Cormier is playing around with search engine keywords again!

Must read: "Adapting to a New Way of Living." Columnist Joel Achenbach's latest. He uses all-caps to show emphasis. Right ON! (and he's talking funny & true about the world going to hell. Which, may I remind you, it is.)

Oh YEAH: Make sure to check out the photography of Joshua J. Withers (another Delaware alum! Aren't we special?).

And here's an old-school mirror picture, taken by Wendy:

And here's new-school mirror (more hair chopped off! Now that I've started this, will it ever stop? *sigh*)

18 october 2001 . 05:57 pm PT
Most of you who talk to me regularly already know that I finished M. Chabon's "The Amazing Adventures of Kavalier & Clay" a few weeks back (here's his web site!). As I finished the last pages and shut the book, I was afraid for a moment of bursting out in amazing huge sobs, right there in a busy coffee shop. This novel is great. It's about love, and war, and friendship, parenthood, New York, and art. And escape. And growing up. So, yeah, highly recommended. (p.s. Chabon is reading this Friday at a Clean Well-Lighted Place for Books on Van Ness. Free. 7:30 pm. And, look here: I wrote him an email the day he won the Pulitzer, and here's what he wrote back the very next day. This was before I'd read this book! I must write him again!)

I'm having such trouble reading anything else, because it doesn't compare. I've spent the past weeks trying to read Norman Mailer's "The Armies of the Night." Also a Pulitzer Prize-winner. Mailer (who I've never read, but sure I've heard of him) writes about himself in the third-person, and he's really an ass. Which is funny. This "history as a novel" takes place over one day in the life of writer Norman Mailer as he marches on Washington, D.C. It's a Saturday in October (circa 1967) and the country is in a big nasty war (is all of this sounding familiar?). Good set-up, right? But NO it's nothing like Chabon's lovely witty story! I've been ruined for any other book! So I just started Roddy Doyle's "Paddy Clarke Ha Ha Ha" which is just a really fun name to say out loud.

While I may be having reading problems, I am NOT having any listening-to-music problems. Today I bought (and am extremely pleased with) 1) Heatmiser, Mic City Sons (Elliott Smith is lead singer!); T-Rex, Electric Warrior; Rickie Lee Jones, self-titled debut. Whew.

16 october 2001 . 03:09 pm PT
Must read: "Wilco's dark victory" by the Chicago Tribune. Jeff Tweedy talks of anxiety attacks and war and Farrar and drugs and explains that "music is love." Who is coming with me to see them play the Fillmore on Dec. 1st and 2nd? You will not regret it.

That story was brought to my attention by the "giant dork" Ryan Cormier, who now has his very own weblog. I urge you to check it out, because he knows alot about midgets (dwarves?) and is based in Delaware. You all need a little more Delaware in your lives. Believe me.

This weekend? We watched the Old 97s (ohmygod the lead singer is so hot) tear it up. An impromptu mosh pit opened up during the "Timebomb" encore. And I thought moshing at alt-country-rock shows was so 1998. I also journeyed, solo, to see Bob Dylan sing songs of war and heartache (here's the set list). Amazing stuff. I lack words, but that man has enough for us all.

What are these dark scabs growing on my fingertips?!!

11 october 2001 . 07:17 pm PT
I am speechless. You've got to look at the world's greatest palindrome. It's so unbelievable, I can't even begin to read it. And, fyi, I've had long history of palindrome obsession. I'm really just not that cool. Oh, and yes! the link is stolen from the oft-missed-in-my-life Whitney, whose zip code has been lost. I really need that zip code, so Whit if you're reading this, which I think you do because I have ways of knowing such things, please send me the digits.

My day: other than silly little word games, and issues with office email (read: no access to email all fricking day), I think about how we're in World War III, and that's kinda exciting and kinda absolutely amazingly horrible.

war, (n) 1. a mass grave in downtown NYC. 2. terrorist cells in the Bay Area or [insert major city of choice]. 3) anthrax in Florida [and your home town].

I know we're strong enough to kick their ass, no matter how much brainwashing I've had it's true, but . . . in any "war", people DIE, or at least more people die than usual in this hard hard place. God, right? I need to do more research on the so-called Cold War. I didn't catch Bush's press conference today, did you? I want reactions. Reading a journalist's summary is not the same. And I was SO disappointed at his last speech, on Sunday, when he told us about the air strikes and the "food drops." Arghhhh! *deep breath* I just have to trust, trust, trust in George Double-you (repeat as necessary).

If you want help sorting through important war-time topics, bookmark Howard Kurtz's Media Notes column and Slate.com's daily round-up of international papers.

I guess right about here I'm supposed to link to this song, thanks (ahem) to Contois.

07 october 2001 . 07:13 pm PT
I had an incredible struggle starting this entry. This is because I didn't want to give up my previous title of "set me going like a fat gold watch." Love set you going like a fat gold watch, writes Sylvia Plath; it's her "Morning Song." She talks of moth-breath and feels cow-heavy. "Your mouth opens clean as a cat's" under the dull stars. I'm going to commit it to memory. Test me on this later, please.

Pop quiz : 7x9. 11x11. 4x8. You're not answering fast enough! You should have this memorized! Back to the flash cards!

Christa's baking a cake in our kitchen and I got to lick some bowls.

And this morning, after I watched George W. wrinkle his brow and drool on about air strikes in Kabul, and after I listened to O.B.L. (sporting a very Western-wear watch) announce that it was his pleasure to kill more Americans (and where was that video made? in a CAVE? is that standard? I honestly don't understand these people at all.), I went to Gretchen's lovely home for pumpkin pancakes/mango tea.

And now won't you please leave me in my misery. Trouble, oh trouble please be kind. I don't want no fight, and I haven't got a lot of time.*

05 october 2001 . 11:46 am PT
I am listening to jazz again this morning. I needed this jazz, this new musical obsession because 1) I've grown weary of rock and roll (okay, just kidding.) 2) I required a new excuse for constantly visiting the record store and blowing all my cash. Top picks of the moment = Charles Mingus "Oh Yeah", Les McCann "Swiss Movement", Brad Mehldau "Back at the Vanguard" (Mehldau is this jazz pianist type, and he does an amazing treatment of Radiohead's "Exit Music." If you find that kind of thing exciting.).

Those very cute pictures were taken by John, seen here:

Which reminds me that I have lots of "fun" pictures of my friends. Like this gem:

So my new plan is to start a little page to commemorate all the silly moments. I'm not making any guarantees, though, that this project will ever be completed (or even started). There is just not enough time! And the terrorists are coming!

I've got a few pictures of girls in cat suits getting their boots licked (aww yeah), and I'll post those eventually, but I've got to do some work right now. Bastards.

*Cat Stevens, "Trouble"