The Truth is.....

Im pulling the curtain back and the previous post. I try to keep my personal 'personal' life out of it and only share what you really want to hear.  

I know, i know you guys want to hold on to the mystery rockstar persona but ay the truth shall set us all free.

free.
free.
free.

I never, ever want to appear like a poser so here go:

Dear Cocolah.com blog fans: I, Yah Valdez am a real person not a rockstar.

So my teenage son came home acting like he hadn't eaten in 2 months...I'm like dude, relax. I'm on it. Go somewhere. 

Kept repeating "mah I'm hungry" about 55 times before I actually put the laptop down to start getting dressed to head to the supermarket. 

ooooh i sweartagodifyoudontgimmeaminute!!! 

STOP IT!!!

I was this close from resorting to violence. KIDDING!!!!!?

Here I am tryna to get my ROCKSTAR on as quick as possible before heading out to do that domestic thing I do. Priorities.

But no the boy is wired with that weird and scary teenage energy, basically bouncing off the walls. HIS dog is responding to the energy by barking and running around the house like HE lost his mind too. Oh My Obamaaaa. (you like that right? I know)

Heres me: "Why don't you give me a minute to get this picture?and  "Go walk the dog before the weather gets worse? and "Get started on the dishes before I get back from the supermarket" and "Did you finish your homework?" and "Get any tests back?" and "NO do NOT to make a sandwich! Just chill cus dinner will be ready soon." and "Dude can you move out the way so I can get this picture?" My GOD!!!

S.O.S.

Here he go: "Mah, I'm staaaaaaarving" and "Mah, take this picture for my myspace." Timer goes off and there he is in the middle. Grrrrrr. THEN here comes the dog to sit exactly where I stand while waiting for the auto timer to do it's thang. GET YOUR DOGGY ASS OUTTA HERE!!! omg!

All this is basically taking place in the kitchen of our small two bedroom Upper Manhattan apartment. You GASP!!!!

Yeah yeah. I know ya'll thought I was in laid up in mansion in West Hartford, Connecticut but no. No...not a loft in Tribeca. Not yet at least.

So I finally get the picture and take off all the accessories, throw on a sweater, a wool coat, hat, gloves and head out. 

I mean really you ain't think I headed out into the snow storm in that get up. Style is not only about looking good, but also about dressing appropriate for weather, age, venue, event, etc.

Basically what I'm saying is that looking this calm, cool and collected is either harder or easier for me than you thought. There. Well said. Moving on.

NEXT DAY:

An Ode to Claire Huxtable.

There's nothing to it but to do it.