Actually, I’ll stick with you guys – as I rarely have to change your shitty diapers.

All’s well here. We’re done with ‘Dogma’ (again). Running time’s down to two hours even, without end credits (sorry, Mister McCarthy – that half hour to forty five minutes you requested were not do-able). Vincent’s conforming the workprint now, and after Howard touches up his score, we’ll be back up at Skywalker for a final re-mix. Then, mid-October release (which doesn’t seem that far away anymore).

Speaking of Vincent, I’ve seen the ‘Mallrats’ DVD. It is really, really fantastic. It won’t cure maladies, but it’ll come close (particularly if your malady has something to do with hives from not having a decent video release of ‘Mallrats’). Huge kudos to Vinnie and J.M. Kinney on the stellar job. Even if you hated the movie, you’ll love this DVD. I swear.

I really don’t want to become one of those guys who talks incessantly about his child, but I gotta say: she’s… just perfect. She’s adorable – a real looker. And quiet? Boy, this kid’s far from being one of those screamers.

She gurgles when she’s hungry – very politely, in fact.

But her arrival was quiet and polite as well. After about a four hour labor (half of which was hard for Jen, prior to the epidural), the Doctor announced “Okay – you’re read to push.” Jen and I were watching cartoons, and our mouths about hit the floor. We weren’t expecting to start pushing until ten or eleven at night, but here it was – 4:40 in the p.m. – and they were getting geared up to unveil the kid. From the first time the doctor said “Push,” it took Jen all of ten minutes. On the first push, in fact, I saw the top of the baby’s head. It was all quick and painless (although I’m sure Jen would have something to say about that), but moving and emotional. I cried, Jen cried, the baby cried (though not much; one or two loud ones, and then she assumed her official role as ‘Quiet and cute baby’). I’ll never, never forget it (though it happened so fast, I’m still trying to hold onto subtle details and nuances that are buried in my subconscious). Jen instantly became my hero, for the strength and courage she exhibited. Next time I’m about to rail at her for some stupid and petty shit, I guarantee my tongue is frozen by the memory of how brave she was, moments before Harley emerged.

It’s over a week later now (yesterday was her one week birthday), and I can see that this (wife, child, family) will forever be far, far more interesting, important, inspiring than writing dick and fart jokes and yelling “Cut,” for a living.

Of course, those jokes and that shout are what’s going to put the kid through what I’m sure is going to be an extremely expensive college, so I won’t be giving it up anytime soon.