by Jake Brown
In the course of filming those interviews, I covered a show by Dimmu Borgir, one of my favorite metal bands, and ran into my friend Mustis (a.k.a. Øyvind Johan Mustaparta,) Dimmu’s keyboardist. We really had a blast catching up and among the other good bits of news I got from him during our meet-up was 1) he had just gotten out of a relationship (which I won’t lie and say wasn’t music to my ears), and 2) he would be back in the States for NAMM in January. That was an early Christmas present, and I wound up spending the holiday that year in the Marina, in a very different place in my life than I’d been a year earlier. I was grateful for all life’s turn-around(s) that year, and I remained focused on 2009 and a future free of L.A. for good. I headed back to Brazil for a few weeks shortly before the New Year. I have to say I found it delightfully ironic that while I had spent the previous New Year’s Eve in a van with my four cats, a year later I was looking out over the ocean from the balcony deck of a beautiful mansion in Rio de Janeiro sipping champagne. I remember making a toast/promise to myself for 2009: that entering into 2008, I’d had no idea where my life was heading, and wouldn’t begin the New Year that way. I had refocused myself personally and professionally, and thought I was making great progress in moving with my life.
To sum the year up, I posted a very personal thank you on my MySpace blog to: ‘Everyone who had stood by me in my turn-around, beginning my ode to you all with the very real acknowledgement of the fact that as all of you know at this time last year I was homeless, thanks to an ungrateful, selfish ex husband (‘Cretino’is the word we use in Portuguese) who swindled me for my money. But I am SOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO HAPPY that it happened. I wanted to thank ALL of you who gave me courage to live and see that I would be better off without him. I never saw it then, but I sure as hell see it now. It was a rough ride to get back on my feet. Last Thanksgiving was the worse, but then, we fast forward a year & here I am living in Sao Paulo like a total princess, at a BBQ in a mansion in Rio, doing really well. Getting the Rock City Music Award for best metal TV show (The Metal Scene TV Show); having the privilege of living in the USA, as well, and working here — working on Sao Paulo’s premiere metal TV show. More magazines, a South American Playboy layout (yes, I took my clothes off one last time…I think many of you will be happy,) my own calendar, and sooooooooo much more. Who would have ever figured this would have happened? I know it sounds cheesy, but everyone’s words meant more to me than anything else at that time. Thanks again… all of you were right!!! I am beyond thankful for all of the years I have had wonderful people who stood by me and, of course, those of you who have made fond memories for me that will be with me forever. I hope that all of you have a wonderful New Year and thanks again for the wonderful thoughts and words. Beijos, Jasmin.’
Part XX iii
2009 & Beyond…
I started off the New Year by formally breaking it off with Gerard for obvious reasons, as well as some unknown to him. Mainly having to do with the fact that I’d hooked up with Mustis from Dimmu Borgir, back in December, and we’d been talking on almost a daily basis via Skype, from Norway ever since. Knowing we were going to be together again at NAMM near the end of January had only fueled our fire, which I’d already confirmed he could stoke so to speak (wink wink.) By the time NAMM arrived, I was excited to see him, which was important because the rest of the convention proved to be something of a drag. It was the same old crowd, and I didn’t even feel like going out to party my ass off like I had in 2008, it just felt different. I had really had it with L.A., by that point, and the convention felt to me like something of a sad circus. It wasn’t the bands who made it suck either, it was all these stupid fucking wanna-be groupie YouTube/MySpace metal show Veejays wandering around the floor trying to blow the bassist from whatever metal band would give them the time of day. I did the Coffin Case Fashion Show, and my usual booth signings, as well, with a real camera crew — my interviews for Stay Heavy TV and the Metal Scene TV Show — but it felt like work for the first time. Not that I didn’t love my work, but in terms of the people who didn’t really belong there, in my opinion because they hadn’t earned it, were flooding the floor that year. So NAMM was really an opportunity more than anything else for me to observe the people and all the bullshit that was around that I didn’t want to be involved with.The Brazilian conference had been a much fresher experience. Not really due to the bands because I saw many of the same groups there that I did at NAMM, but because of the difference in attitude among the staff working the booths, etc., at the Music Expo. It just further validated my instinct that my future laid in Brazil.
3 49 Before I could leave, I had to deal with packing, which was a bitch, because I felt like I’d just moved into the Marina. I was planning to keep the apartment and sublet it out so I had a place to stay when I was in L.A., but I had set my mind to moving down to Brazil for real this trip. I’d sold all my furniture right before NAMM and aside from packing my belongings, there was also the issue of my cats to consider. At first, I’d explored my options for taking them down to South America with me, but they would have had to stay quarantined for 6 months among a variety of other issues. In the end I decided to find a good home for them back in L.A. which turned out to be a debacle all on its own. The people who I had lined up to take them — even though they came very highly recommended — wound up being mad reefer heads — lets call them Stems and Sticks. That would have been fine had I not worried about them eating all my cat treats, and more importantly, getting my money’s worth since I was paying them to take cats that had been with me through thick and thin. Before I dropped them off, I’d bought them over $800 in supplies (food, litter, etc), and paid them some money to take care of the cats. Even though when I got to the house, it was wharfing with the smell of marijuana. My cats took to them right away, which was reassuring at first, but the alarms started sounding a couple days after that when she called to hit me up for even more money to ‘bathe’the cats at the vet’s. My reply was signature Jasmin, ‘They just had baths 3 or 4 days ago, maybe it’s you that smells?’ She didn’t really reply, and I left it alone, because I think she just wanted more money for weed. I was paying them $200 a week already, so we eventually decided to leave the original deal intact.
I headed back down to my lovely new home-to-be in South America the second week of February. I’d been invited to be part of the biggest festival in San Paulo, Brazil, by the largest Samba school ‘VaiVai’ as part of their annual parade called CANIVALE, which is a really prestigious thing. I was their very first ‘metal’ celebrity invite to be part of a float. In the context of my local popularity there, was a really big deal professionally for me, and personally, because of the fans who helped make that happen. I posted this thank you to them in my online blog, which should help better explain how overwhelmed with pride I felt at the opportunity, explaining, ‘This is kind of weird for some of you to understand, but it’s actually a pretty cool thing. As a lot of you know, Carnival is one the most treasured events in Brazilian culture. It is a huge part of the culture here & quite a major deal to be invited. It is not just about shaking your ass or tits; it is a whole big deal and very hard to learn. I was invited by the biggest samba school in Brazil to be on their ‘superstar’ float at Carniva. I am also the first person in metal that has been invited (Matthew McConaughey was invited, and many other stars). Nobody from Sepultura was ever involved. I have to say that I am very proud, especially since my family is Brazilian as well. They judge the schools as they parade (the school that has invited me, won last year, so we are the last ones to parade. Trust me it’s an hour long to pass thru the whole of Sambadrome.) They judge each school on the samba skills, outfits (yes, I have a very sexy gold outfit & will post pictures if you ask nicely,) their singing of the song and looks. It feels great to know that metal has now made it into the biggest, most traditional and very mainstream part of Brazilian culture and I feel honored to be chosen to represent the metal community. I am totally stoked to have accomplished this. There wi
ll be an extreme amount of press there as well. This is where the super model in me comes out. This is a very non-metal, but extremely glamorous thing and a great way to bring metal to an even higher mainstream level here. Expose more metal heads to the TV show (we already get over 9 million viewers here) I do here and get more attention to the bands whose videos we play on the show. I hope that those of you who get the Brazilian stations, and those of you in South America, watch me & cheer on!! Metal will always get bigger & bigger, Stay Brutal!!’
Ahead of the parade beginning, I had a video shoot lined up with a Latin boy band (no, NOT Menudo,) which was one of many fabulous new opportunities my press agent Marsha had helped to land for me. I also had a bunch of shows to cover for Stay Heavy TV. It felt like paradise, and from the second I got off the plane, I had a ton of shit to do. There was always a lot of pre-press before the big carnival, and in addition to that, I had to go to the Samba School who was sponsoring our parade float, Sambadrom, to pick up my outfit. In Brazil, in preparation for this annual festival, there are people who spend half the year just making the costumes outfits. You have to pick that out in advance, and how the procession generally works is that whoever won last year goes last, sort of like the headliner, and my school — which is the oldest and most prestigious in San Paulo — had won in 2008. Though it’s a celebration, it’s not a party the way you’d think because it’s a big, big production people take a lot of pride in readying. I remember I was running back and forth between Samba rehearsals for the parade and the boy-band video shoot, which they shot around my schedule. We didn’t get through till 3 or 4 in the morning and I was drained and so slap-happy, that what should have taken a half hour to wrap took a couple hours heading into the day of the festival. The day of the parade, I remember I went out to lunch with my publicist Marsha and the 42 Year Old Virgin texted me, desperate to hang out. When I turned him down, he replied by text with the question: ‘Why do you have to make this so hard?’To which I answered: ‘It’s not like that’s a subject you know anything about anyway, so let’s just drop it.’The day of the parade, we were still in rehearsals as we had been the past few days prior. I was placed on the top-tier of the float, so had we not trained, we could have gotten really hurt. The parade was held in a town called San Paulo, and it is huge, it takes a whole hour to get through the whole thing, and the streets are lined with thousands and thousands of people, packed like a stadium. I remember before getting there that night, me and the other girls on the float had started drinking champagne, and then kept getting fucked up on whiskey with the rest of the half-naked float girls on the whole way over on the bus. They said to be there at 8 that night, which meant 9 or 10, so we were pretty ripped by the time we arrived even though they’d told us ‘No more drinking, no more snorting coke, etc.’That was funny to me because our school preached this philosophy of living healthy, and the anthem we were singing on the float, in Portuguese, is all about health and well being. Nevertheless, our float turned out to be a big success at the parade. I was shown on Globo TV at least 30 times throughout the night.The same night the carnival happened, I posted the following blog entry on my MySpace site, beginning with the fact that after standing for so many hours, ‘My feet are tired as hell. I was featured numerous times on the largest TV Station called Globo last night during the coverage for Sao Paulo Carnaval. I was placed on the first car float for Vai Vai in the front & we didn’t parade until 4 a.m.The beats of the drum for our ‘Bateria’ really got my adrenaline pumping, so I danced my ass off for an hour. We waited for 5 hours before we could go.’ We didn’t go on till 2 in the morning, and the parade didn’t wrap till the sun was coming up. We kept partying, went out to breakfast, and then home to bed. It was one of the truly most surreal and beautiful experiences I’ve ever had.
As the spring bloomed on, so too did my relationship with Mistus, we were getting closer and closer, and I couldn’t wait to see him again at the end of February. I’d never communicated that well with any of my past boyfriends (and definitely not with my husband), so that was refreshing, as was the fact that we were getting along really well, and he turned out to be a lot different than I thought he was upon first impression. He had a 6-year old daughter and was a wonderful father, and as the weeks went by after our NY visit — with me back in Brazil and him in Norway — I couldn’t wait to see him again. I had some shows to shoot for Stay Heavy TV at the end of March in Brazil, but in early April, planned to fly to Norway for the first time to visit him on his home turf. Over Easter, I met Mustis’s daughter, parents, sister, and other family, and got on really well with everyone. It was entirely the opposite of my experience meeting Matt’s family for the first time, because his family was actually nice and welcoming to me as his girlfriend. He was really grounded, as they were, so it was cool to see the stock he came from, and know he had been raised in a good home, and that his family supported his profession as an artist. I’d been in close quarters with the opposite, so as our relationship progressed, that was reassuring for me.
I headed back to the States in middle April and then to Brazil for work, with the plan to meet back up with Mustis in May in Norway, to join him on the road with his band for some summer tour dates. That’s when the only downside of dating him appeared in the form of his band’s jealous, shit-talking, super-bitch horns-and-micro-Manager who was constantly jocking me whenever I was around the band during rehearsals for home shows. My first encounter with her was during a late-May date the band had to play in Trondheim, Norway. I found out she yanked my pass to cover the show as a media member, and had been doing that for other festival dates I had been slated to cover for Stay Heavy TV that Dimmu Borgir happened to be playing. Mustis and I’d started planning out our summer, coordinating between his touring schedule and my shooting schedule for some shows throughout Europe that his band dates happened to be overlapping. Apparently, she’d gotten wind of his plan to have me out on the bus with the band, and told him I wasn’t allowed to come out on the road. She put it in the guise of insurance restrictions, but we both knew the real reason for her not wanting me around was rooted in her jealousy. I flew home briefly to Brazil, and then met him in Germany, as the band’s tour continued into June. Mustis actually rented a car separately so we could follow the bus and travel together between his dates. We slept in the car a couple nights when the band was sleeping in bunks on the bus on the road, but we stuck it out together in spite of the manager-with-horns-and-hooves’ attempts to keep us apart.
At one point, I shared with fans my thoughts on the she-devil in the moment on my MySpace site in a blog that began with the colorful title, ‘Love Hog Gone Wild.’ Before you read this blog, let me explain to you what a love hog is. It is nothing to do with swine flu or Valentine’s Day. It is a term generally reserved to describe a female that is particularly, but not always, unattractive and overweight. You can imagine how scared I must be when it has come to my attention that a particularly rabid love hog named Yvette has had me in her cross hairs and has been stalking me relentlessly for a while. She has yanked my passes when needed to cover concerts, had me banned on the van or bus that my boyfriend is traveling on (she also did this to another guy’s girlfriend) and spread vicious rumors about me having diseases, including to people I do business with! I have done NOTHING wrong to this woman. I have never bothered her. In fact, if she wasn’t saying all of these vicious things about me, I wouldn’t even know that she existed. Maybe that is the problem. As we speak, I am lawyering up with my cousin’s boyfriend who is one of the partners at Skadden Arps (www.skadden.com), and forwarding all of the information that backs this up. Unfortunately, all of the money that I would get by winning a lawsuit against this ‘love hog gone wild’would not compensate for the aggravation and heartache she is trying to impose on me. While I sympathize how hard it must be for a groupie trying to be legitimate by managing a huge band, there is no need for her to act the way she smells. Her attitude stinks as much as she does. She obviously does not want any other
women around so she can be the only one and use the band’s success to gain her own ‘fame.’ She has given me no choice but to fight back and stand up for myself. I would never do this to someone’s manager, but I don’t consider this woman professional. Any true manager would be insulted that this glorified groupie runs around calling herself a manager. I am not looking to pick a fight, but I am not running away either. This is a result of her starting with me. I am not the only person she has picked a war with; she did this to another woman as well. I have dealt with many cockblockers in my time, but never on this level. This is my first and last warning to her that I will fight fire with fire. Roast pig is one of my favorite dishes!!’
