Laszlo! LAAAAsssszlo! We got a Liebster Blog Award!!!! Holy $%&*#!*!

A couple mornings ago, after crying herself to sleep because she couldn’t write a novel in three months and also because she felt fat and it was all Laszlo’s fault because he kept chocolate in his house and also ordered dessert a lot, Lala awoke to discover her micro co-blog with Laszlo had been given a Liebster Blog Award by her total future soulmate over at Softer City — an awesome blog that continuously helps Lala feel like she can someday fit in in the big Apple. Through her gummy eyes she read the kind words of its author, girlnextfloor.  And then she rejoiced. She woke Laszlo by going to his house and ringing his doorbell sixty times. He rejoiced but seemed tired.

Happiness is realizing that you are noticed, then humiliating yourself until everyone starts to look away again.

Then she had to go to her new dentist who was awesome and who told her she was flossing okay but might she floss some more in the future? Please? Also, less chocolate might help.

The whole time she was happy. Imagine, she thought, Someone is reading! Or skimming! Or something!

When she got home Laszlo gave her chocolate. This was a bump in the road.

Even this bunny, who died in the name of chocolate cravings everywhere, could not put off our happiness.

Still, she was happy. So, kind readers, skimmers or simply drive-byers of Naked And Hopeful, please hustle and bustle on over to check out girlnextfloor’s great stuff, because she stopped Lala from crying even more over her failure as a human, a woman, and a writer.

Thank you thank you thank you thank you thank you, Softer City!!!

Our award-age situation is as follows:

1. Hamptons Art Hub – great source for art news and insight
2. Other Things – the blog of Alison Espach, a most amazing novelist (The Adults) and my mentorThe Adults
3. Toulouse in a Pickle – just a great narrative blog with a really cool voice. Very atmospheric.
4. The Ralphie Chronicles – because a dog has never been so charming, or so delicious looking…
5. Softer City – because I was a fan of this awesome blogger before she was a fan of us… Her New York-centric blog rocks.

The Liebster Rules

  1. Thank your Liebster Blog Award presenter on your blog.
  2. Link back to the blogger who presented the award to you.
  3. Copy and paste the blog award on your blog.
  4. Present the Liebster Blog Award to 5 blogs of 200 followers or less who you feel deserve to be noticed.
  5. Let them know they have been chosen by leaving a comment at their blog.

Banned from Piano Day in New York —

The other day Laszlo was pacing the kitchen. (Unlike most of us New Yorkers Laz has a kitchen in which you can pace, or even swing a cat if that’s your thing, although it would have to be a a compact cat with a calm and abiding temperament.)

The Enemy

Lala: “What’s doing, Laz? What’s wrong?”

She had been writing bits of her novel (shopping for boot deals on Piperlime.)

Lazlo scratched his nose. “Nothing’s wrong. Why’dya think something’s wrong?”

Lala: “You were talking to yourself and cleaning, even more than usual.”

“I’ve got piano today.” He said it with a grim expression that usually accompanies tax time or Lala’s insistence on salad night.

Lala, a perceptive powerhouse if e’re one walked the earth, said with brightness and love, “Don’t worry, Laz: you’ll be great!”

“I haven’t practiced. At all,” he said, bending over to inspect a quark-sized piece of dust on the floor.

“You’ll be fine. She’s your teacher after all– she’s supposed to tea— why are you making that groaning noise?”

He scuffed his shoe on the floor, then said. “What are you doing today?”


Outside in the city, a siren whined like an elephant that was just given an unsalted peanut. A horn sounded. “I was going to work here today,” said Lala.

Laszlo: “I mean, are you sticking around this afternoon?”

Lala picked at the cuticle on her right index finger.”You mean when your teacher comes?”

Laszlo, looking boyish: “ER… Yeah.”

“Well this is awkward,” said Lala. “You want me to leave?”

Laszlo swung around to look at her. “That’s a great idea. What a good idea!”

“…so I don’t hear your lesson?” Laszlo didn’t answer, so Lala slumped off to locate a missing shoe. Las located the escaped footwear under a couch and presented it to her. She took it with terribly wounded dignity.

Laz: You’re so pretty.

Lala only snorted at this weak attempt at consolation.

Now, dear readers, Lala has never been the kind to merely sit in on any activity that doesn’t focus on her– and someone else’s piano lesson, even that of her sworn lover, is no exception.

Naturally though, now that she had been forcibly evicted from the lesson she felt bereft of joy…

Laszlo, I promise that all I've ever wanted today was to hear you play the piano.

Yes, she was nearly overcome by an abiding desire to sit in on the lesson. She had never wanted anything so badly, except perhaps that YSL purse she saw at Nieman’s.

Lala felt alone. Ostracized. Banished. But her nails looked great.

So to drown her sorrows she went where all budding novelistas surely go when they are kicked out of their office/boyfriend’s home:

to get a mani-pedi.

The next week Lala was prepared: she said she couldn’t get up and leave during the lesson due to a headache. So she got to listen to the piano lesson of Laszlo Von Glitz, America‘s favorite artist, or at least Lala’s favorite artist.

After about 20 minutes, she kind of, just kind of, wished she had gotten a mani-pedi instead.

“I can’t believe you didn’t like my piano-playing!” says Laszlo as he reads this over Lala’s shoulder.

“It’s not that you weren’t amazing. It’s just that hiding in your bedroom pretending to have a headache has its limitations,” Lala says.

“I mean, this is really discouraging,” Laszlo goes on. “That’s WHY I didn’t want you there last week! Because of this crap!”

“Why are you sharpening that knife so close to me, Laz?” says Lala.

Lala wondered why the sound of knives was loud in her ear.

The New York Posts – Life in New York for a Veteran and a Virgin

Megan Fox, please stop pestering Laszlo. He's so not interested in you. Or that incredibly hot outfit you are wearing. Or your interesting hair tumbling like an ebony waterfall over your sleek alabaster shoulders, which could have been carved by a goddess.

So it’s been far too long since we’ve posted in our blog. Stop hounding us, would ya? That means you, Megan Fox. Laszlo is NOT interested.

Today’s post is brought to you by the letter O, as in “Ooops,” “Ooork,” Omygod I’m dying,” and “Oh god why did I order the duck?”

“How about as in Orgasm?” asks Laszlo.

“How about I puke on your sheets next time,” answers Lala.

Even they were stunned by what horrors were in Lala's stomach.

Yes, faithful readers: food poisoning once again struck down Lala (leaving Laszlo unaffected, peaceful, and snoring slightly on his side of the bed). Lala felt that moths with Ginzu knife-blade wings were having a rave inside her cranium.  Meanwhile tiny, disgusting, virulent evil spirits were burrowing through her lower intestine.

It was a night to be forgotten. We cannot blame the gorgeous tapas restaurant in Chelsea for this horror, as no one else in our party (ahem, Laszlo, you jerk with your non-headaches and peaceful, vomitless slumber) got sick.




Prequel to “O” Night

Above: Prime destination for art and marriage. The Salmagundi Club on 5th Avenue

The evening began innocently enough when Lala’s sister, Panda 1, and her husband-to-be the Mayor (because he knows everyone, including you) met us at the Salmagundi where they are to be wed in coming months. The wine did flow. The art was charming and included some killer sheep portraits. Seriously.

One should, if one is in New York for a few days around March 2, visit this 5th avenue private art club for an open auction. Spend money and tell event-guru and manager Dag (who is a Costa Rican by birth) that Lala and Panda 1 sent you. Maybe we’ll get free drinks.

Laszlo seemed to enjoy himself, but as Lala drank three glasses of uninteresting vino in quick succession, she has been deemed ipso-post-facto “unworthy of testimony.”

Does anyone have any suggestions for cool flower arrangements for spring — something with a purplish flower in it?  Excellent. Also, could you buy them for us? St. Barthelemy really wiped us out financially. Hee hee.

SIDE NOTE: We are happy to report that no evil mountain people from old families in St. Bart have yet tracked us down and killed us for invading their private land.  See our old posts for more info on that…

wait… I just thought of something… perhaps the mountain people are responsible for my terrible food poisoning? Sure… let’s blame them. Them or the 1%…

Why on earth do you think we're planning a funeral, sir? We are planning a wedding, a glorious joining of two young hearts.