17 Weeks -OR- Ghost Lime

17 Weeks.

17 Weeks of LQF.

And even though 4 weeks = 1 month, thus 16 weeks SHOULD = 4 months, he's not technically 4 months old until Sunday, when he's almost 18 weeks old.

I think time is getting . . . wider.

Can time get wider? Sifl & Olly say it can. So that's enough for me.

Wow.

So, 17 weeks. My kid. My son. He's pretty great.

Can I still type on this thinking pad? Do all my songs just turn into sappy power ballads and slow love songs now? That's not all bad. "Beth" is one of my favorite KISS songs. Granted, I don't like most KISS songs so it's not a very high stakes contest. Although I probably only like it because of its inclusion in Wet Hot American Summer. (Or, "Wet Hot" as we call it in the industry.)

Weird times. I stopped by at Sonny's Tavern tonight to pick up a paycheck after running to the grocery store before our weekly blizzard. Sonny's. Which is where I run, "Zach's Trivia Night" since the place I used to run it suddenly closed - which is where I used to run it since they had moved from their smaller original location - which is where I used to run it originally. And is where I'm running it again now. I know it sounds dirty, but it only makes us cousins by marriage. Liz, Quita and Alex were all there. So we were all in the place we used to work. But don't work anymore. But with all the same people and the same music. Well, I guess I kind of still work there. In the way that lime was kind of a flavor in a box of Runts. (Which - what does that say about me? Since it wasn't even lime. It was watermelon. Do I consider myself to be ghost lime? And at worst, a FICTIONAL GHOST LIME?! That said, I hope I'm a dark green ghost lime. Otherwise, what's the point?)

My entire house is covered in glitter. The computer, my phone, my child, those good for nothing cats, my face. We've been making Valentine's like we're some sort of . . . Valentine's factory . . .machine. Jeeze. Sometimes it takes a while for the muscle memory to return I guess. I'm still looking for the joke keys on this comp. Is it Ctrl+8? Prt Sc? I don't know if Monique is covered in glitter. She's in quarantine. Hopefully the glitter couldn't break through her dacron bubble.

I want everyone to be my child's aunt and uncle. If I'm going to buy the whole damned world a coke, the least it can friggin' do is act as an infinite loop of extended family to my child.

What if LQF is part of a prophecy? He doesn't seem to have strange markings. And I don't think Trelawney overheard anything about his birthday. I think he's part of the prophecy that brings happiness and unending light to his Mom, his Dad, his Nanny, his Nana, his Grampas, his Grammie, his Memere, his Muppets, and everyone else. Which, seriously? Is way better than a stupid can of coke. Especially regular coke. Just eat a salt lick. A salt lick made of sugar instead of salt because they look so similar and Inspector #19 has a astigmatism. Lemon Meringue Pie is great and all but that meringue can be gritty as all get out.

Sugar on my teeth that I can feel. Sugar on my tongue. 

I don't need gritty in my life anymore. It's mostly been removed. Either because it was evil, a waste of my time, bad for my teeth or all three.

Happy 17 Weeks, LQF. Your Ghost Lime loves you.

Dad, I'll stick both hands in my mouth at the same time. Does that make it easier to make Valentine's Day cards? 

 

Eleven Twelve Thirteen

Oh, hello there, Blog.

I didn't see you there.

How have you been? You're looking well.

Me? Oh, thank you. Yes. Well, tough to get sleep with a new baby.

Yes! A baby! I know. The wedding? Oh, that was ages ago.

No, we went with a different venue. Yeah. We needed a bigger space.

Sorry you got caught in an amber event and need to play catch up. But you can just go check Zachapedia while I move forward.

Or something.

------------------------------------------------

Dear Leo (that's my son),

You're not even a month old, but there's some things that your dad (that's me) needs to lay down right at the start. The Eagles are an awful band. I was likely going to this cover this at some point. But I was forced to cover it here and now when I plugged my headphones in to write this blog and because the universe is an obnoxious place, "Life in the Fast Lane" by The Eagles was the first song iTunes shot at me when I put it on random.

You couldn't stuff a dead ferret in the '80s without running into this masterpiece.

Facts:

- The Eagles were a band that came out with a lot of songs in the 1970's.
- They broke up and for much of my childhood people gnashed their teeth and screamed to their respective Gods wanting to know if The Eagles would. ever. get. back. together. Unfortunately, because Taylor Swift hadn't been invented yet, they did get back together and everyone smiled and it was another happy ending for all the people that had a Dead Head sticker on their Cadillac.
- In 1976, the Eagles recorded a song called, "Life in the Fast Lane". It was released in 1977. I was released in 1978. Your grandfather claims (though, try as I might for over 30 years, I have yet to find a witness to back up his story) that the song was playing when I was born. I have carried this dark mark around with me for my whole life. [Questions remain: how did your grandfather know it was playing when I was born? Dartmouth, despite being a teaching hospital, couldn't have found a benefit in piping in the sounds of shitty rock music. Did Grampa just mean that he heard the song on the radio that day and decided to say it was playing, "when I was born"? Pheh.]
- The only Eagles song I ever liked slightly didn't hate (and put on a mix tape once in the mid-90's before having second thoughts and taping over it) was, "Heartache Tonight". However, it's because I thought the lyrics were, "We're gonna have a Party Tonight, a Party Tonight . . ." etc. Of course, in typically annoying Eagles fashion. They weren't inviting everyone to a fun party, but instead some ice stormy, key party heartache. No, scratch that. That implies that the band had some sort of dark edge that might make them cool. That would be false.
- Joe Walsh isn't half bad. Seems pretty batshit, but also like a nice guy.
- But, seriously: that song just PLAYS RANDOMLY on iTunes the second I resurrect my blog?! That's some Eerie, Indiana.
- One might ask, why do I even own, "Life in the Fast Lane" if I hate it so much? I will answer that question with a series of seemingly unrelated answers: One Direction, Cherry Poppin' Daddies, Neil Sedaka, & The Wiggles. These are all "artists" that followed The Eagles on my iTunes. Your father, despite what this looks like, actually has exquisite taste in music, no matter what your mother says. However, your father also runs a local weekly trivia night in which he creates an audio round most weeks. This has created one of the freakiest frankenplaylists in the history of iTunes. DJ-ing a Children's Valentine's Dance each February simply ladles on a few extra globs of banana times.


------------------------------------------------

Leo,

11/12/13. That's today's date. It's a pretty big one. Some significant things have happened on this date.
I'm going to tell you about some of them.

Jim
Your Great-Uncle Jimmy was born on November 12th. This happened many years ago. (But after your grandfather was born.) If your grandfather was born around the big bang, then your great-uncle was born about a year and a half post-big bang. When the lava started to cool. Your Great-Uncle grew up in the same place that a lot of people in your life (Daddy, Mommy, Grampa, Nana, Pepere, 75 Uncles, etc.) did: Laconia. Laconia is a whole thing that Dad will try - likely in fits, starts, rants, and raves - to explain to you over the course of your entire life. It's a mystically frustrating place. But it broke a lot of brain molds.

Most people call your Great-Uncle, "Jim", but since your father calls him, "Jimmy", so shall you. It's law. When I was a kid, I knew the following about your Great-Uncle. 1. He was my father's brother. 2. He lived in New York. 3. He liked going to Funspot. 4. He was better at playing the Popeye arcade game than anyone I knew. This was not insignificant. A. I knew a lot of people that played Popeye. B. Popeye, specifically the pirate ship levels, is DIFFICULT. Now, it's nothing your father couldn't eventually master. But still, it's nice to know our Funspot mastery levels are in the bloodline. No pressure, of course. That said - if you defeat Congo Bongo before I do, you're grounded.

You met your Great-Uncle Jimmy the day after you were born.

Jimbo
Jimbo grew up in, yup, Laconia. He was born on November 12th. I think you'll like Jimbo quite a bit. Any post-high school friend I've ever introduced to Jimbo inevitably will confess to me that they think Jimbo hates them. To which I reply, "that means he really likes you!". Here are some things you should know about Uncle Jimbo. 1. He used to wear a pretty sweet furry coat. I think when we were in college. But I can't quite remember the timeline. You never letting Mom and Dad sleep has been pretty killer on my memory banks. But Jimbo never wears a furry coat now, because he lives in San Diego. 2. Jimbo had these sweet penguin gloves that he'd wear when we were in high school. 3. Jimbo used to drive a sporty little red car that zoomed all around Laconia. Then, later, he drove a big boat of a car. 4. We used to visit Jimbo a lot at his college - Bates - and it was a lot of fun. 5. Jimbo would forever get us in trouble for swearing or saying something inappropriate at the just the wrong moment. So much so, that we called it, "pulling a Jimmy". 6. Jimbo was in Mom & Dad's wedding party.

You'll meet Jimbo during the upcoming holiday season.

Misha & Niko
Misha (22 lbs) and Niko (13 lbs) are your fat and skinny cat siblings. They celebrate their birthday today too. They seem to think you're ok. But are still immensely jealous of you. Mostly because they are no longer the subject of all of your father's instagram feeds and youtube channels now they you've been born. They turned 14 today and were born in New York City. They're Russian Blue cats. Mom spoils Misha and Dad spoils Niko. We also call Misha, "Pig" and Niko, "Boy Cat".

They greeted you when you arrived home from the hospital.

Lindsey
Lindsey, despite having a name that is typically assigned to girls, was a boy. Well, a man. But he would sometimes behave boyishly. In a good way. There's not many people that could convince your father that wearing a sarong is a good idea. Lindsey was also born today. Dad thought Lindsey looked like the J.B. Scoops man when he first met him years ago. Mom and Dad used to always go to brunch where Lindsey worked. Dad would bring the Sunday Globe and read to Mom and we would sit at the small bar and talk with Lindsey and he'd make Dad one too many mimosas, on purpose. Dad would talk to Lindsey a lot at his night job. We'd compare how each of our nights had gone and Lindsey would try to catch the last few songs of whatever band was playing. Lindsey was a really smart guy and I think you would have liked him a lot. Just like Uncle Jimbo, he seemed a little gruff at first, but then you would catch the unmistakable glint of wonder - or mischief - in his eye, as everyone would eventually do and you'd be hooked. Oh, the stories Lindsey could tell you! He knew a little bit of everything about everything. Lindsey left us last year, so you won't ever get to meet him. But there's a nice picture of him at one of the places Dad works. And when you're old enough to learn the art of origami, I'll tell you more about him. [I won't be the one teaching you origami though. Dad's awful at it. I think you'll need to look up Auntie Heather or Auntie Quita. They're pros.]

Anyway. That's today. Although now it was yesterday.

- Z

I DON'T WANT ANYMORE DAMNED FRUIT SNACKS

     I don't even know if fruit snacks are bad for you or not.  The crumpled up Welch's packaging in my office trash can says the following:

- 100% Vitamin C (DV per serving)
- 25% Vitamins A & E
- FAT FREE (their All Caps, not mine)
- Gluten Free
- No Preservatives
- Made with REAL Fruit!

     That all sounds pretty good, right?  So now - since I'm trying to lose weight for the wedding - when I have a craving for the delicious looking, smelling, sounding, feeling Boca Negra Cake that Doug made for the staff that is apparently some sort of delicious chocolate bourbon cake that makes all your troubles disappear and comes with a free unicorn tattoo, I have to have a stupid bag of fruit snacks instead.  [Which, while we're here, what's the big deal about the unicorn tattoo being FREE?!  The cake doesn't cost anything to begin with, but I'm not calling it a "free" piece of cake.  So why does the price or lack thereof of this unicorn tattoo become such a big deal?  I'd even be willing to put a few dollars towards the uni-tat (that's what I call it sometimes).  I don't know.  My cognitive skillz ain't what they used to be ever since I quit drinking triple sec.] 

     100% of what is Vitamin C?  100% of the bag?!  That doesn't even leave any other percents to be things in my fruit snack bag!  Is it 100% of my daily allotment.   Ohhhh, do you think "DV" stands for "Daily Value"?  Or "Diane Verisimilitude"?  That last one doesn't seem very likely.  Isn't Diane mostly into making designer bread belts these days?  Anyway, that's a lot of Vitamin C either way.  And I'm not surprised since it did make my face a little bit hot.  Not like Extra Pulp Pink Grapefruit juice, but still - hot enough.

     25% of Vitamins A & E?  Thank goodness.  I don't think I could take more than a quarter of "Growing Up Gotti" & "Dog the Bounty Hunter" in my system each day.

     FAT FREE is always good.  Though I'm sad that there's no fatty parts of the juice snacks to cut away before I eat them.  What else am I supposed to feed my future dog than frozen jars of sweet & salty fruit snack fat?!

     Gluten Free is nice.  Especially because M is conVINCED that I have a Gluten Allergy.  Despite the fact that I don't blow up like a puffer fish or grown scales or fall down whenever I eat bread.  Or whatever it is people with gluten allergies do when they eat whatever it is they can't eat.

     No Preservatives.  Sure.  Standard.  The Golden Rule, right?  I'm talking King James version here.

     Made with REAL fruit is . . . good.  I suppose.  But what was the alternative?  Squeezing one of those plastic lemons or limes?  Strawberry Shortcake's blood?  Liquified banana runt?!  I should HOPE it's REAL fruit.  Or even REAL FRUIT!

    Here's the thing that really troubles me though - and may make me quit my burgeoning addiction plane before it can even get off the runway of tears:  Sure, the ingredients list the Acids Three:  Lactic, Citric & Ascorbic.  And of course the carcinogenic colors are rep'd:  Red 40, Yellow 5 & Blue 1.  But the 4th to last ingredient?  CARNAUBA WAX!  WHA-?!  WHAT THE FRAK IS CARNAUBA WAX DOING IN MY GOD DAMNED FRUIT SNACKS?!  Carnauba Wax, for those of you that don't know, is a type of car & boat wax that people use to wax their cars and boats with.  ["Wax" is one of those words like "gigawatt" that automatically implies what it means by being both a noun and a verb.]  But seriously, I used to sell Carnauba Wax when I worked in the noxious trenches of the Diamond Mines.  AND I DIDN'T SELL IT TO SNACK CONGLOMERATES that were looking to add an EXTRA SHEEN TO THEIR FRUIT SNACKS.

     The packaging claims that it's, "America's Favorite Fruit Snack"!  Well, as long as they're making these little chewy bombs full of corn starch, sodium citrate & Carnauba Wax (I don't care if it's Mother's OR Father's - it's still wrong!) then I'll be eating Fruit Roll-Ups from now on.  I mean, come on, they have Tropical Tie-Dye & Electric Blue Raspberry!!!   And maybe, just maybe, the only thing better than a free unicorn tattoo:  A FREE PEGASUS TATTOO!!

It's so Purple!  And Blue!  And Majestic!  And looks both ways before crossing!!!

The Sappho Whisperer

     I guess that I'm some sort of Sappho Whisperer.  Not the Zafo Whisperer.  That's totally different.

     I get along with lesbians really well.  I don't know why.  I mean, I'm pretty awesome.  And lesbians like pretty awesome things.

     There's many a social situation where a lesbian comes up to me and she starts talking and I start talking back to her and then the next thing you know - fast friends!  And sometimes, I don't even know that they're lesbians until much later!  And I'll think to myself, "Of course.  Lesbians.  We really understand each other."  But why?  Because we both like women?  Because I'm tall?  Do lesbians like height?

     There's this lesbian named "Lana" (not her real name) who I see in my travels around town quite often.  We get along (obv.) but she must be running some sort of lesbian bootlegging system because whenever she shows up, there's usually a gaggle of lesbians that turn up within 20 minutes of her arrival.  It's like Lana goes into the middle of the street, blows into her her magical lesbian conch shell that emits a fantastical pitch that only lesbians, dolphins, and lesbian dolphins can hear.  And then they just start arriving.  Scaling down the sides of buildings, climbing down trees, roller skating down off ramps.  There they are.  All shapes and all sizes and Tennessee visors.  But while the pack mentality may scare others off, they welcome me.  They ask me how tall I am.  They ask me if I know they're a lesbian.  (I usually don't - at least not right off.  I've been told I have ridiculously inferior gaydar.  I mean, sure -  once 6 girls who get blind drunk on PBR start punching each other in the arm and dolphins are all "eek, eek, eeking" and shit all over the place, I start to get a pretty good idea.)  They ask me if I'm cool with them being lesbians.  I always tell them I am.  A.)  Because I am cool with it.  And B.) I'm scared if I said no, they'd kick my ass.  I'm not saying that in a way to feed the, "butch" lesbian stereotype but in that my ass is usually pretty easy to kick.

     I guess it's not too weird that I get along with lesbians so well.  I get along with gay guys, straight guys and straight women mighty fine too.  But the lesbians and me?  We be tight.  It's just different.  Always has been, probably always will be.  I've had crushes on girls only to find out later they're lesbians.  But instead of feeling like, "was it my fault?" I think, "of course I felt a special connection.  She's a lesbian!"  Maybe I'm a lesbian trapped in the body of a straight man?  Do lesbians really like Maura Tierney and Kermit the Frog?  I bet they totally do.  I need to look into this.  I can't be a lesbian . . . can I?  Either way, M & I are covered b/c NH isn't one of those asshole, "We'll decide who gets to get married in this state" states.  We like our granite old man ghosts and straights and gays marrying whoever they please.

     I just hope no one blows one of those conch shells at the wedding.  There's a sand volleyball court on site and things could get . . . out of hand.

Mr. Magic Wedding Stegosaurus, Send Me A Dream!

  Make my wedding the easiest and stress-free event that I've ever seen!

  The wedding is happening in just under 9 months.  Not that I'm counting days.  Or hours.  Assuming everything goes according to plan, our friends and family will witness M and I get married at a summer camp just north of Winnipesaukee on the Center Harbor / Moultonborough line.  It's called Camp Quinebarge.  And they have a lot of stuff.  And a lot of things.  M & I?  Also have a lot of stuff.  And a lot of things.  And a group of friends the size of Pennsylvania.  And a contingent of family the size of two Pennsylvanias.  M's mother is 1 of 2,000 and her dad is 1 of 47.  That's a lot of tantes and oncles.

  I'm not even worried about the normal things one worries about when planning a wedding; Chocolate fountains, ice luges, ice cold chocolate milk dunk tanks, etc.  I'm mostly worried about the guest list.  How on EARTH have all you people done this?  More importantly, how is someone like ME supposed to do this?

1.  I have attachment issues.  In that, I feel attached to every single person, pet and mineral I've ever met.  In my life.  Ever.  And I want to invite all of them/it.  Grade school, middle school, high school & college classmates.  Aunts.  Uncles.  Cousins.  Second Cousins.  Nephews.  Nieces.  Teachers.  Co-workers.  Old roommates.  Bus drivers.  Living pets (Niko & Misha), former refugee pets (Chef Chen Kenichi), & dead pets (Baby Girl, Lucy, Zoe, etc. - don't worry, my mother's been storing their ashes for years just for such an event).  Swim lesson instructors.  Movie theater concession workers.  Crossing guards.  Amazing Spider-Man #334.  Camp counselors.  My Happy Meal Toys.  Hawaiian Tropic Suntan Lotion (it smells so coconutty!)  Sunday School teachers.  The entirety of Zach's Trivia Night Trivia Teams.  My prizewinning cantaloupe as optical nerve project from sophomore Biology.  That's just the tip of the pathological ice berg!  Why, I even want to invite . . .


2. . . . people/things that I DON'T know!  Like the cast of Freaks and Geeks, NewsRadio & The State.  The writing staff of the A.V. Club.  The Chipmunks.  Neve Campbell (so she can cough uncomfortably when Rick asks if "anyone should have any reason that Party of Five stars should marry Zach instead, speak now or forever hold your peace").  Jack Bristow.  Evangeline Lilly.  Kermit the Frog.  Mrs. Peacock.  The Ghost of the Old Man in the Mountain.  Don Draper & Roger Sterling.  Wally the Green Monster.  Brian Daubach.  The Baseball Diamond from The Great Muppet Caper.  SuperGrover.

     But we simply CAN'T invite everyone/thing on my dream guest list.  Sigh.  I mean . . . it's just . . . double sigh.  There's just not enough room in the barn / cabins / archery course / camouflage canoes!  Well . . . except for you Brian Daubach.  I'll never cut you from the list!  NEVER!  

3.  Most parties I've ever attended / held follow a pretty similar pattern.  I make an entrance (grand or otherwise).  Then I mingle a bit.  Then I pull a "Houdini" and am found hours later either a.) playing video games in some side room, b.) talking on the phone in some side room, c.) passed out in some side room, or d.) dancing/singing to Starship's "We Built This City" in some front room.  All but possibly Choice D are unacceptable options for one's own wedding.  M has already told me that I'm not allowed to "take off" at any point during the reception.  If Tom & Huck are allowed to watch the own funeral from above, then shouldn't I be allowed to watch my own wedding from the lake?  All underwatery except for my nose and up?  And then I'd spring forth at an opportune time (perhaps between the best man and the comptroller's speeches?) and everyone would rejoice and I'd plunge a jagged rock into the synthetic heart of my clone that I had created for this exact situation.  My clone would look at me with a cyber tear in his eye and he'd whisper - so only I could hear - "It was you.  You were the real one all along.  It was always you."  And I'd whisper back - so only he, and maybe anyone within a 4 foot radius, could hear - "I know, handsome.  I created you.  It was never a question.  They never knew until it was too late how to tell the difference between us.  The freckles on your right arm form Orion's Belt while mine form the Dippers Big & Little.  It was so simple it was genius if I do say so myself to myself."  And then there'd be about 2 minutes more of rejoicing.  And then cannolis would be served in the shape of a Sachem.  And the comptroller would award me with the, "2nd Best Semi-Underwater Surveillance Award"!  (Frederick would win 1st prize because he fell asleep under the dock.)

4.  According to Wii Fit I need to lose between 50 - 70 pounds between now and then.  That's . . . a lot of pounds.  That only gives me 38 weeks!  (Not that I'm counting.)  2.1 lbs a week?!  Who does the Wii think I am, some sort of reverse vampire Paula Deen?!  [For those of you who ate too much paste as a child, reverse vampire Paula Deen cooks only with rootmarm, not the copious amounts of lard that butter vampire Paula Deen uses.]  I'm thinking of weighing in on the Wii Fit next time while holding Misha and then not using the Misha the time after that.  Instant 22 lbs. loss!  Huzzah!  Well, writing a blog isn't going to help me lose the poundage.  So I guess I better get my special Wii Boots on and apply the special Wii Warming Lotion and get to work. 

Satan's Unicorn

Apparently, there's a McRib Locator.  You read that right.  And a McRib was spotted in Manchester THIS VERY MORNING. 

What am I doing in Dover when McRib's are luxuriating in their burnt tasting brown "sauce" in the Queen City?!  How come I haven't run to Manchvegas when I know full well that a sandwich made from parts of the pig a wolf wouldn't touch is being topped with pickles less than an hour from here?!

Oh.  Right.  Because the McRib is Satan's answer to unicorns.  Mysterious, possibly mythological, items of pure ugliness and darkness that suck all goodness from every person, pet and thing that they come in contact with.  That must have had something to do with my lack of enthusiasm.

Now if they could just come up with a PizzaFest Locator, then my dreams would be answered!  What's that?!   They HAVE?!  And it's readings are showing a strong showing of pizza ectoplasm coming from downtown Dover, NH in Henry Law Park?!* 

YAY!  PIZZAFEST!

See?!  Even Sky Sign is excited!

Sigh.

All I can think about is Pizza.  Monique said I accidentally called Niko & Misha, "Niko & Mozzarella" Tuesday night when I was drifting to sleep.  I got out of the shower this morning and accidentally dried myself off with a calzone.  That doesn't even make any sense!  We're not having a CalzoneFest!  I've had three Pizza related nightmares in the last week.  Surprisingly, none of them having to do with me being lactose intolerant.  Don't worry, double bandoliers of lactaid shall be strapped across my chest at all times Saturday night.

See you there!

* - I don't know why the pizza has ectoplasm on it.  Are they ghost pizzas?  Did ghosts recently touch some of the pizza?  And if so, did they at least use some of the sanitizer from the many museum Purell stations?  Ghost have germs too.  They call them, "ghost germs" and they were responsible for decimating an entire Lithuanian village in the late 1800s / early 1900s.  (They didn't keep good records of "ghost germs" then.  So while it probably only happened during 1898 or 1901, ectoplasmic historians sort of give you that 20 year window to cover their asses.) **

** - The historians aren't ghosts, they just study ghosts. 

Did Somebody Say PizzaFest?

Are you ready for 200 pizzas? They're arriving on Saturday! Looking forward to seeing you and your family at PizzaFest 2010 Saturday, October 16 5:00 - 8:00 PM $10 per person until 5 pm on Friday $12 per person at the door(children ages 2 and under are free) Children's Museum of New Hampshire 6 Washington Street, Dover All proceeds benefit the museum's education-based programs and exhibits All-You-Can-Eat Pizza from 11 Pizzerias! Bring your appetite ... there will be more than 200 pizzas on hand, each cut into small tasting slices. You are welcome to try as many as you like and vote for your favorite in the People's Choice category. Each of these restaurants is bringing plain cheese as well as their choices of specialty topping pizzas: Amato's of Somersworth Dover House of Pizza Kendall Pond II of Dover La Festa Brick & Brew of Dover Panzanella's Pizzeria & Italian Restaurant of Newmarket Papa Gino's of Dover Papa Jay's Pizzeria of Dover Portsmouth Pizza Factory River Bend Pizza & Subs of Dover Smiley's of Dover Uno Chicago Grill of Dover A panel of local celebrity judges will choose Best Crust, Most Creative Toppings and Best Overall Pizza. Judging this year are Seacoast food writer Rachel Forrest, Slice of NH pizza bloggerAndrew Toland, accordian player/radio host/ocean swimmer Gary Sredzienski, and Dave Flood of DoverNH.tv and producer of Dover Eats! Shop our Silent Auction for holiday gifts! In between slices, stroll through our Silent Auction, with great merchandise and gift certificates. There are items in all price ranges, generously donated by local and regional businesses and sports teams. This is a great opportunity to start your holiday shopping so bring your gift-giving list.Items up for bid will include: NEW! 4 adult lift tickets to ski Mt. Cranmore NEW! 2 U.S. roundtrip tickets on AirTran NEW! Man and woman's IBEX winter jackets  NEW! Overnight stay at any Inns & Spa at Mill Falls properties NEW! Case of international red & white wines from M.S. Walker Wine & Spirits NEW! Six months of instruction at Matt Randall's Black Belt Academy NEW! Tickets to Manchester Monarchs, UNH Football, UNH Women's Hockey, more NEW! Tickets for Boston Ballet, Seacoast Rep, NH Theater Project, Hackmatack Playhouse, Ogunquit Playhouse, Palace Theatre, Capitol Center for the Arts and the Popovich Comedy Pet Circus the Music Hall NEW! Guest passes for Six Flags, Castle in the Clouds and Canobie Lake's Screamfest NEW! Italian-inspired dinner for 8 prepared and delivered by museum's Carol Chambers NEW! Home energy evaluation by Energy Star builder Roe Cole NEW! Landscape design consultation by Norm Fracassa of Fracassa DesignWorks Football autographed by Tom Brady from the NE Patriots Ladder truck ride & station tour from Dover Fire Dept Two-night stays at The Mountain Club at Loon and Village by the Sea in Wells Game tickets to New England Revolution, NH Fisher Cats and Portland Sea Dogs Baseball autographed by Victor Martinez from the Boston Red Sox Guest passes to StoryLand, Liquid Planet Water Park, York's Wild Kingdom, Indoor Ascent, ChildLight Yoga, McAuliffe-Shepard Discovery Center and Squam Lakes Science Center Four rounds of golf at The Oaks in Somersworth Hardcover copy of House Rules autographed by NH author Jodi Picoult $200 vet visit for a dog donated by Piscataqua Animal Hospital Restaurant gift certificates to Wentworth by the Sea, The Riverhouse, The Common Man, Bedford Village Inn, Loco Coco's Tacos, Blue Mermaid, Texas Roadhouse, Barley Pub, T-Bones/Cactus Jack's, The Goldenrod, Dos Amigos, 106 Kitchen Bar and many more Reserve your place at PizzaFest today! PizzaFest is a limited-capacity event so make your reservation by calling the museum at (603) 742-2002. You may also make reservations at the front desk during your next visit to the museum.Advance tickets are just $10 each and only available until 5 pm on Friday. If space permits, tickets will be available at the door for $12 each on Saturday.  No tickets will be issued - your name and number of people in your party will be put on a guest list for check-in at the door.  Thank you in advance for your support of the non-profit  Children's Museum of New Hampshire! Early Closing: Please be aware that the museum will close at 4 pm on Saturday to prepare for PizzaFest. Cancellation Policy: All sales final. There are no refunds but if you are unable to attend after making your reservations, you may call and substitute another person's name for yours on the guest list.