Friday, February 26, 2010

Own Me

put your head in my armpit.
just a dream.
(really a nightmare)
and was that a hint of jealousy in your little voice?
you own me.

Ay yayay I am your butterfly

I had a dream last night that Ninja of Die Antwoord fame was my boyfriend.
Not even kidding.
I woke up and wasn't sure if it was a dream or if he and I were really power couple 2010- taking over the interwebs.
I mean, I was worried. In all seriousness. Like... "fuck. Did i forget?"

In the dream we were walking around SXSW (yeah. i know), and we were wearing the same outfit. I had let him borrow these Joe Boxer pajama pants with words all over them that, in the dream, I- for some reason- had 2 of... Probably, b/c i guess at this point in our relationship we liked to dress EXACTLY alike... which seemed feasible.
(Note: I do actually have these joe boxer pants- you have not seen them b/c i don't wear pants... but when i do- these will be the first pair I premiere.)

Anyway... he was following me around and just like hanging on me as I got ready for the shows I was playing, and I was getting really fucking irritated. I fucking HATE that shit! So, I would kind of leave him at like the "waiting room"... yeah. SXSW had a waiting room, I guess.
And everyone was like "Yasmine, where's Ninja?" and I felt pretty guilty b/c he was just hanging around being a really caring boyfriend, reading an US Weekly in the waiting room of SXSW- waiting for me to play. Probably had his legs crossed, too.

Then, all of a sudden we went to my house or something and my dad was sitting in a recliner and was really bummed that this was my boyfriend and probably extra bummed that we were both in head to toe Joe Boxer form.
Then, I left Ninja somewhere and lost him... like he went missing.
Then, I played a show and he was in the front- toothless and grinning like he was in the front row of "Rent" or something with his Playbill in his hand.
So pathetic.
Wanted to break up with him right there- from the stage.

Then, my phone rang and it was my dad, but it really fucking scared me... b/c my dad's ringtone is that Kings of Leon song and it goes "Yeeeaaaaahh... Your sex is on fiiiiire." (It's his favorite song, so I got it to be his ringtone... but the joke is really never on him. I'm the one who has the ringtone.).. anyway... he called and I got really scared that now Ninja had dragged me to a Kings of Leon concert and then, I looked at my phone and it was a picture of a shrimp and then a picture of Grace Jones and I woke up and had no idea what the fuck was going on in my life and where the fuck was Ninja because I really needed to break up with him and are these kings of leon in my house?



i have no idea.

Saturday, January 2, 2010



colors become gray.
shapes have no shapes.

this is just what i'm used to.

Wednesday, December 2, 2009

Take My Shoes Off...

I am in my bed- eating almonds. naked.
... and I only say "naked," because other than that I am naked- it's the most unattractive form of nakedness.

I am on the computer and the almond crumbs fall on my chest. Upon my bosom. They remain there until I realize I have almond crumbs on my chest at which point... I have to decide: Do a gentle swipe to the ground? Or throw her back in?

My head is pounding.

This is the first night I have not had to do anything... or be anywhere.
So, tonight- I chose to have a completely physical relationship with a bag of almonds.
It's very selfish... but I know they want it. They like that stuff.

We had been working so hard-everyday
("We", TEARIST and Don- not "we",me and the almonds). Little to no breaks. Sleeping so little...and on the very last days- this weekend... it kind of became too much. Like, I, genuinely, believed I may have been going insane. The level of everything's weight seemed to be crashing down on me. The decision making. The tiredness. I was depleted of everything- water, vitamins. The stress was all consuming... I had been getting headaches, and I didn't know what to make of them. Anti-social.
Eric came by Joe's (Cardamone) studio when we were mixing and this was the one time I felt like I remembered how to speak or who I was before all this had started...
And by that I mean... I pulled my dad's socks that I was wearing so that they were longer than my feet and I pretended they were swans dancing on Eric's leg.

Then, after we worked for the final 10 hours on Sunday... I couldn't move or speak. I felt completely paralyzed. I couldn't form sentences at all, and I began to faint at Von's. I do NOT want to faint at Von's! I love that place! It's like a second home. I'm seriously there at that Von's on Sunset and Virgil almost every night at like 2AM. It's a sickness. The security guard knows me by name and asks me about my shows. Once he asked Will "How you gonna be in TEARIST if you ain't got nothin torn on?" - to which we replied "touché"... and realized this man had just conceptualized our band for us. This is the honest to god truth. So, Von's rules... and fuck a faint job at Von's...
On top of that- I could barely see. Like losing vision in either eye at different times. It was at this moment that I assumed I had just truly gone crazy. I had heard of it happening- and I just thought "Ok. So, now, I guess... I have just actually lost my mind. I am seeing it and that's what's happening and it's fine b/c I was making music and now I will be crazy and making music. I accept it. I'm fine with that."
Then, I drank a bunch of water and ate food that hurt my stomach and forgot there was an issue.

Today... I woke up with a crazy headache and finally read about migraines.
(Do Christian fanatics believe that God made Wikipedia? Because I do. He types it with his little baby hands.)

So, there it was. I was hallucinating as a symptom of this one type of migraine. It's a real thing. And good to fucking know. I was ready to be a crazy music casualty and about to label myself an unsung hero for the arts.


I am here in my bed... bosom buddies with an almond.
With a migraine.

Saturday, November 28, 2009

Here it is...

A blog.

What am I supposed to say to you?
And by saying it... here... on this thing...
Does that mean it's real?
I know you are reading.
So. This is what I want you to think I think?
Like when I was little I thought there were cameras everywhere... so, I would always do things as if someone were watching. I became insanely aware of the way I presented myself and what it looked like from the outside- every movement. I would write in journals and realize I was writing as if someone were going to find it, so, I could never be fully honest... b/c what would people think if they knew I had such horrible thoughts?.. which in retrospect were probably not so horrible.

We, TEARIST, are doing a premix of songs that mean probably too much to me.

I told Will and Don I was starting a blog now, b/c I was losing my mind listening to these songs, getting too overwhelmed by their weight... and now, I feel overwhelmed by the blog.
The cat in here sounded like it just said "no"... now... I am being made fun of for starting a blog... Will told me to call it YasmineFan... which sucks and rules. And I say that b/c I can't decide between anything right now.
I have paced this room. I have pulled so much hair out. I have screamed. I have said "I hate this."
And I don't. And I do.
(I just got: "Are you really blogging?")

But it just means too much- these songs and these words and these arrangements... and I want to know it is what it needs to be b/c ultimately it is me... and it is Will.
I make myself so vulnerable within them... but then, when we single the vocals- my heart races...
.. I have to stand and say "Yes. That's what I'm saying. And that's what I feel. And that was maybe about you."

and it may have been.
"... And if it wasn't about you then... it is now."

but it's really what I did. and how I made you. and maybe not how you were at all.

and maybe I like that.
but who says "I like that" about the decline?


It's light out. And I am looking at 2 men from behind listening to me sing the word "decline"... over and over. It's kind of insanely beautiful. (just took a picture.)
The song is beautiful. Can I say that?
What Will does in this song makes my heart drop.
Then, panic.
I layered too many vocals. Maybe? Did I? No. Yes. That one is weird. Is it? No. I like it. No. I need it. Cut it. I hate it.What the fuck does this sound like? My stomach hurts. What is this? Where is the pipe? Fuck. This. No. I. love. this. Fuck. you.

The actual recording was amazing. The easy part.
Puppet shows. Gargle tracks. The sounds. It's seriously like multiple personalities.
And some of them make me scared.
And some are hilarious. Like "Taiwanese." (don quote.) To me it's the voice my Persian mother used when she would pretend to be Ernie (of Ernie and Bert fame)- and Ernie sounded nothing like Ernie... and he would say stuff about how I needed to eat 3 more pieces of broccoli. (She would not let go of the broccoli thing. Like, the levels of bribery were out of control when it came to me getting that broccoli down.) Or Ernie would say I needed to go to bed or like take a bath, which I hated so much... but when Ernie would say it I would just close my eyes and smile and imagine him saying it to me and I loved it so much... that I was like a slave to him. To Ernie (of Ernie and Bert fame.) And it was really just my mom doing this voice that sounded- I guess, Taiwanese. And that's the voice at the end of the song...
So, I guess, really, Ernie is singing on this TEARIST song. Which I support.

Side tracked obviously.
This part... fuck. me.

On the other hand.
I am sitting nestled between a Cher doll and an ewok. This blue eyed cat is obsessed with me. I am really not into cats but this one gets like in your face... not like the usual lazy asshole cats. This one... is totally involved. I really believe he/she whatever wants to lay down a track. Seriously will not shut up. ... so, soul mates... We were listening back to a track and had to replay the vocals several times to figure out if it was me or the cat in the song.
I have a chocolate bar on my knee (thank you for bringing that to my show).


Basically, things are pretty amazing. other than when they're... no. it's good. unreal.
and intense. but so good..
and the people around me are blowing me away.
and everything that has happened.
and fuck.


The words "piece of mind" are being replayed and replayed...
I like that right now... I was uncomfortable hearing the words so loudly 3 hours ago.
Straight saying "Please. Can we not solo these right now?"
Tomorrow, I make fun of myself.

I haven't changed clothes in 2 weeks. It's tradition now for recording. That may also be called OCD.

A blog.
It makes me uneasy.
And maybe I like that.