10:55 AM - Dad is currently cutting raw shrimps apart, getting rid of those gross gray, translucent shells. We are the only two people in the beachhouse. I play Florence and the Machine, one of our mutually enjoyed bands. Father will be here all day, preparing. I will be here all day because I’m one of the indoor kids.
Things that have happened so far today: We had a sick rainbow, followed by a rainstorm. I got asked to interview for a sick freelance script-writing position, which I’ll do Monday. I went out on the porch to peek at the doughs and they are SIIIIIIIIIICK, bro <3 (sick)
3:46 PM - I learn that dinner is destined to start at 6. In front of me, Martine is mixing cream cheese with honey so that it can serve as the “sauce” of the dessert pizza. On one of the stove burners, sausage is cooking. The length of the meal’s preparation is nearly unbearable.
4:04 PM - Is there a separate name for vegans who do not eat yeast? I have enough vegan friends that I am almost embarrassed to not know this. Too embarrassed to Google.
4:05 PM - Prank idea: Tell Grandma that I’ve become a vegan on the day that we get to the beach next year.
4:05.5 PM - NOPE BAD IDEA NEVER MIND. I might cause an embolism and then mom would strike me and I would be crying and dad would never look me in the eyes again.
4:15 PM - Kayla helps herself to a healthy mug of the Chef’s Wine, which is a large bottle that dad buys on Pizzamas Eve. He keeps it in the kitchen for he and I, because we Italians need to celebrate Pizzamas on our own time. The G-Rents are wine connoisseurs after all, so they just get the nice stuff. All that must be saved for the feast.
4:36 PM - I’m suffering through my yearly beach-breakout. I feel like a leper most days, but today? I am just glad to be alive. The Cuc-Tomato Salad is being mixed, holy grail of hors d'oeuvres.
4:52 PM - THE DOUGH DISCS! THE DOUGH DISCS! THEY ARE HAPPENING!
4:55 PM - So those dough discs were actually the dessert discs. Those get cooked and THEN dressed. It’s a beautiful process.
4:57 PM - Martine just pulled out a box of graham crackers. When I asked what they were for, he put a finger to his lips and glared at me, then whispered, “You’ll have to wait.” I feel about as paranoid as Kristin Wiig in Bridesmaids after she is drugged by that frigid pageant lady. “THERE’S A WOMAN ON THE WING! SHE’S CHURNING BUTTER! THERE’S SOMETHING THEY AREN’T TELLING US!”
5:23 PM - As the half hour mark nears, the unrest becomes visible across the board. So close yet so far, I now ache for pizza through every organ, muscle, and tendon.
5:36 PM - Father has deigned that “Low” is not appropriate for the Pizzamas mood, so I’m working on getting “More Big-Bandy Stuff” on Spotify.
5:39 PM - And now there is silence. Not a musical note to be heard. And the smallest child is screaming. We are being tested, it seems. The Saints of Pizzamas wish to see that we are worthy, that we can survive the pain, frustration, and angst.
Pizzamas is always darkest before the dawn.
5:47 PM - The child screeches like a howler monkey. The young woman opens a Yuengling.
6:01 PM - Ben and Jess have arrived with Pinot Noir! I just played the Pinot Noir Youtube vid for them and my father. Thought of you, Harry Hawkins.
What is Hibachi Pizza, you may ask? At this beach house there is an island where the female cousins and I always sit to watch Martine’s kitchen antics. Because we demand entertainment on par with a Hibachi grill, this time is filled with dough-tricks and many a joke.
6:19 PM - “Becca, what do you call a dog with no legs?” “Um, uh” “It doesn’t matter! He won’t come anyways!” HIBACHI PIZZA!
6:30 PM - The sausage pizza has escaped the oven, signaling the beginning of the fancy pies. Also, I’ve almost completed my double fisting of Ben’s homemade wine and a Yuengling.
6:49 PM - Every time I pass behind Martine in the kitchen, I yell, “BEHIND!” as loud as I can.
6:52 PM - A slice of Spinach Feta plus a slice of Mushroom. <3
7:19 PM - Spinach Feta and Tart Cherry Wine.
7:45 PM - And Mushrooms and Spinach Feta Shrimp and Chardonnay, then Cherry Wine.
8:14 PM - And then Kayla had all the fudge and all the pizza and all the wine and she just wanted to sleep. The smoke from the oven hurt her eyes and she just wanted to sleep.
8:15 PM - So tired. So full. Must consume the dessert pizza before going to bed. Honey cream cheese and macerated strawberries and powdered sugar. Must. Go. On.
8:36 PM - Tried to nap, but resurfaced from the depths of tiredness. I return upstairs for a glass of water. Only the Klings and my father remain. I drink a large glass, which I immediately recognize as a mistake. There was not enough room in my stomach for this water. I go back to bed.
9:12 PM - PSYCH! Not tired again, so I return upstairs. Still the three of them are there, and soon Rico and Drew return from the beach. I station myself on a couch and play Jess and Ben “The Loophole” because they don’t know Garfunkel and Oats. Pastor-Dad is un-amused.
9:17 PM - Rico says that he and Drew are planning to kill my father. Father calmly goes to the kitchen, then heads downstairs to see Drew. Jess looks at me with shock, “Your dad actually just got a knife from the kitchen.” I shrug. Obviously they would not actually kill my father, because then Pizzamas would cease to exist.
9:18 PM - All the boys come upstairs. We are informed that Drew was already equipped with Rico’s pocket-knife, so he and dad just nodded at each other with respect and that was that. Testosterone is baffling.
Eventually the Klings leave and I find enough tired-ness in my person to collapse for the night. Such a beautiful evening of frivolity and over-eating, one could scarcely ask for more.
A Merry Pizzamas to all, and to all a good night.