If I knew then...

Watching an old Saturday Night Live episode intro, with Steve Martin hosting from the early 90's. I actually remember seeing this episode the first time around and the opening was pretty funny. Tonight, it's sort of twinged with this sadness, seeing Phil Hartman always makes me sad, and there was a line about Chris Farley going out after the show and getting totally trashed. . . And knowing how both died not too long after all this, it's just hard to watch. But it was more than just celebrity death sadness, it's this whole feeling of how meaningless little comments thrown around at one point can later come back and be utterly haunting. How many things we joke about or take no notice of until it's too late. Wow, this is sounding morbid, but it's something I keep turning over and over in my head lately for no apparent reason, which is, I think, what makes it all the more troubling for me. So, Rowan had a rocking good time watching Hannah Montana/Miley Cyrus and the Jonas Brothers tonight. I put a little more detail on the Flickr pictures and am now too wiped out to recount, oops. But suffice it to say, she was on cloud 9, but as soon as we walked out the door, not two minutes later, was talking about how now she can't wait for Christmas. ARG! The child is never happy in the moment, that's for sure. I'm truly steps away from taking and donating all of her toys since she doesn't seem to GET the concept of appreciating what she has just for having it. *sigh* Tired, only moderately coherent. Some days I really struggle over whether to even hit the "publish" button.