| holy yay |
[Feb. 13th, 2007|10:55 am] |
|
we're opening for the Raveonettes on March 15th @ TT's! |
|
|
| Karoake King and Queen :) |
[Jul. 27th, 2006|10:41 am] |
This entry is specifically to wish Russ and Erin good luck tonight at their Karaoke endevours! Bring home the big cash and buy mama a new pair of shoes, eh?
I'm gonna be stuck in a room full of sweaty musicians playing the same songs over and over, wishing for a quick death, but if you choose to booze it up with the songster and songstress, the fun starts at 6:30 @ the Hong Kong in Faneuil Hall.
If you've never seen Karaoke with this crowd, it certainly is something to behold. These two know how to put on a performance, and if I'm not mistaken, I believe their doing a duet? Someone correct me if I'm wrong.
Oh to have my free time back... |
|
|
| Yay! exciting album news. |
[Jun. 23rd, 2006|10:04 am] |
So we're done! It's official. We've got our first full-length album under our belts! The collection of songs, entitled Fun in Flats, was produced by local rock veteran Eric Edmonston (Darkbuster) over at Fallen Angel Studios. Really great guys over there, definitely give them a ring for "all your recording needs." ;) (http://fallenangelrecords.net/)
We'll have more exciting news regarding the release of this album and how you can get your hands on these insanely awesome gems in the days to come. For now, hop on the myspace and listen to three new cuts. They promise to have your head bopping and toes tapping or your money back.
We're emerging from the dank studios and rehearsal spaces for the first time in a while to play our favorite haunt, the Abbey Lounge, this coming Wednesday, June 28. You don't want to miss this, as the mighty Unitards start things off, followed the Spoilers, then us at 10:45, and Static of the Gods bringing the house down to finish things off. It's summer time, so you can't use that old "but it's a school night" excuse. As those Paley boys once intoned, come out and play.
Who: Okay Thursday (10:45), with the Unitards (9:00), the Spoilers (9:45), and Static of the Gods (11:45)
What: Take away the pain through the magic of pop music.
When: Wednesday, June 28
Where: The Abbey Lounge, 3 Beacon Street, Somerville MA 02143
As always, and despite what you may have heard, Okay Thursday is:
Sarah Korval: singing
Rebecca Mitchell: drumming
Clint Reeves: bass playing
Brad San Martin: guitar playing
www.okaythursday.com
myspace.com/okaythursday |
|
|
| oh my god! is she actually posting? |
[Jun. 5th, 2006|02:02 pm] |
yes friends, yes i am. because this story needs tellin'.
So last friday night, Gary's band was playing a show at the Middle East. Since I was going to be missing their set, I headed over early during their soundcheck so I could dine with the rockstars of the evening. After a dinner of that tofu kabob that rocks my box, we were all standing outside on the sidewalk having a chat in the nice drizzly weather. I was standing in a group with Kristin, Billie Joe, and Gary, saying my goodbyes as I was soon to head towards the T.
All of a sudden, as I was going to walk away to begin my night's journey over to a movie theater to see The Breakup (soo not worth the money, but that's another story for another time,) a creepy old drunk man (CODM) comes over and blocks my path. It was quite awkward, I thought maybe he was trying to bum a smoke off of Kristin, but he just stood there as I said my farewells. Every few seconds he would make odd gestures with his hands, which signified he was trying to join in the conversation. I started feeling really uncomfortable in my low cut top. Just as Kristin went to tap her husband on the shoulder to signify massive social emergency situation, CODM spoke up (or, rather, down, to my breasts.)
"Those are beautiful."
At this point, I'm pretty sure there were four jaws on the sidewalk, but CODM didn't give us time to bask in the insanity that was his statement. He continued his tribute to my chest by pulling out a 5 dollar bill and rolling it up. Just as he attempted to stick it in my clevage, I turned away and assured him I was all set. He then walked away, oogling a double G pair that passed his way.
I wasn't sure whether to laugh or cry, but one of my first thoughts was 'if mine can pull in a $5 bill, what can Shannon's do?' |
|
|
| our first review! |
[Mar. 30th, 2006|09:42 am] |
So the new issue of the Noise has our first review in it. It's of our show at the Middle East. T-Max, the editor of the Noise, was there to see Rachel Cantu, but he and I play softball together, so he stayed to see us. After the set, he took my setlist...total rockstar moment for me, when the press wants your setlist. Brad found it online last night, apparently it hits streets today. Anyway, here it is. (Notice how he puts our name first in the review title, even though Rachel Cantu was the headliner...it's the little things that make me smile)
OKAY THURSDAY, RACHEL CANTU (CD release)
The Middle East Upstairs, Cambridge, MA 3/7/06
I walk in to a well-filled Tuesday night room as Rachel Cantu is preparing to go on. I get a quick conversation with Mike Piehl (her drummer) who tells me that her CD has bounded to #70 on CMJ. She takes the stage in her casual torn jeans and hooded sweatshirt and delivers a string of sad/sincere acoustic songs with her three-piece low volume group. The nice sounding reverb on her voice distracts from the audibility of her lyrics. John Bistline (ex-Chauncey) fills out the band adding nice touches of keyboards and melancholic cello melodies. Rachel's delivery is quiet and the crowd at times overpowers her with too much talk coming from the back of the room. But she's a polite girl and lets them talk away as she finishes up with her romping hit, ""Saturday,"" that shuts them up and has them responding more than any time throughout the set.
Okay Thursday hits the stage with a whole new approach. Their music bops and bounces more than rocks. Up front, on seductive vocals, is the attractive Sarah Korval. I close my eyes and I swear I hear Chrissie Hynde-open my eyes and Sarah has something special in her stage presence. She's sexy in an unassuming friendly sort of way. She's wearing a brown plaid, pleated mini and heavy boots that draw you to her knockout thighs (think the Keep on Truckin' girls). I like the chorus of ""Nothing I do is good enough for you"" with the boys repeating Sarah's phrasing. But ""Hey Honey"" is their ticket to the radioland. Its lyrics are sad and happy at the same time. One of the best songs I've heard in a while. The band, as a whole, is still a little green, but a few more gigs under their belt should raise their confidence. (T Max)
yay! |
|
|
| life updates to come later, but for now... |
[Mar. 7th, 2006|11:56 am] |
Hey. Maybe it's just me, but I get the impression that your boyfriend doesn't appreciate you the way he should. I mean, you're amazing. And -- don't get me wrong, he's a good guy -- but his head just seems to be somewhere else these days. I guess it's hard to tell, since we don't see him around that much. With these long-distance things, you periodically gotta ask yourself, is it worth it? Only you know the answer.
But I do know something that IS worth it...and that's Okay Thursday, everyone's favorite boy/girl jangle-pop experience. We'll be movin' feet and breakin' hearts ***TONIGHT*** Tuesday, March 7, at the Middle East Upstairs. It's a great bill, with local fave Rachael Cantu returning from the west coast to celebrate the release of her new CD, the killer young pop ensemble Stars for Sunroofs, and incisive Canadian songster Vivek. It starts at 8:30pm, with OKT taking the stage at 10:30, following Rachael's set.
We will be celebrating the release of a variety of Okay Thursday paraphernalia -- including patches, tote bags, and t-shirts, all handmade in America (by our drummer). And yes, we will have those stylish OKT buttons available for purchase or short-term rental.
A word of gratitude to you nice people -- it's our last show before we go into a serious hibernation to work up new songs, perfect old ones, do some recording, learn to play our instruments, and generally try to become better human beings. Thanks to all of you for coming out and helping us get started. The next chapter should be very interesting. This is only the beginning...there will be many more shows...
Who: Okay Thursday (10:30), with Vivek (8:30), Rachael Cantu (9:30), and Stars for Sunroofs (11:30)
What: Steal your girlfriend.
When: Tuesday, March 7 @ 10:30
Where: The Middle East Upstairs, 472 Mass Ave, Cambridge, (617) 864-EAST
Why: "Because you know he don't treat you good."
Now and always, Okay Thursday is:
Sarah Korval: singin'
Rebecca Mitchell: drummin'
Clint Reeves: bassin'
Brad San Martin: strummin'
Visit our myspace site for more info, songs (old recordings), and snazzy pictures:
www.myspace.com/okaythursday
To be added to our official list, send a nice "come hither" message to okaythursday@gmail.com. |
|
|
| Myspace experiment update |
[Jan. 27th, 2006|09:15 am] |
So not only are the creepy messages increasing (this one being my favorite so far: "is it available in person or just online to look at ?")
but i'm getting more invites from guys that i already know. it's like, they never bothered to click on my profile before, but now that there's a crotch shot there, they realize that i'm their best friend/girlfriend's friend/fellow musician/etc. i had always given men more credit than that, but i must say, it's hard to keep the ideal that men aren't just driven by T&A (at least the straight ones.)
Not surprisingly, no invites or messages from any females. |
|
|
| i'm stealing shannon's post |
[Jan. 24th, 2006|11:22 am] |
she beat me to it, so here's the info, WE NEED YOU TONIGHT!!!
mp3 DJ Night @ The Common Ground
IPOD night @ The Common Ground in Allston has relaunched on a new night. On Tuesdays bring your IPODs and MP3 players to the Common Ground for MP3 music therapy. Create your own 15 minute playlist. Wow your friends or punish your enemies with your incredible (or horrifying) playlist.
SPECIAL EVENT: BE ON TV! The local television program, Chronicle, will be coming in the bar TONIGHT Tuesday, January 24th to do a piece on "iPOD Nation." Be on television and make new friends with your 15 minute playlist.
TONIGHT 7:30 pm- 1 a.m
Come for the eats, stay for the food. Kitchen open until 10pm.
All Mp3 Devices welcome.
For directions, e-mail, or more information visit http://www.commongroundbarandgrill.com/ |
|
|
| show tonight. |
[Jan. 23rd, 2006|11:01 am] |
Hey guys,
So I'm playing the Paradise Lounge tonight and I REALLY need people there for support. (Shannon, Russ, Aaron: I'm lookin' at you guys. It's right down the street from you, just go down Babcock and it dumps you out at the venue.)
Don't let the snow get ya down. We'll put on a great show and I'll buy you a ber. A beer, too. It's an early show, so you'll be home in time for some quality sleep :)
7:00 Cahill
8:00 Okay Thursday (that's us!)
9:00 Carmen's Condition
And that's it. It's simple like that.
Are you gonna be there? Pretty Please? |
|
|
| I'm ripping off my guitarist's myspce post |
[Jan. 19th, 2006|12:01 pm] |
Hello friends and music lovers...
The Okay Thursday train roles on, as we prepare to inflict our unique brand of high-strung hook-heavy guitar pop to ever-larger audiences (we're going for double-digits here, people!). The big news, as you've likely heard from your hairdresser or masseuse, is the addition of the great Clint W. Reeves on the electric bass guitar. That, coupled with Rebecca's graduation to a full-sized drum-kit, has altered the sound a bit. It's punchy...punchier....if all you've heard is the MySpace demos, prepare for a most rockin' surprise.
So, our public debut as a four-piece is fast approaching. At the demand of our rabid Allston fanbase, we will be performing at the Paradise Lounge this Monday, January 23. That's 967 Commonwealth Avenue, Boston, MA 02101. Doors at 7, we're on at 8. It's a part of Carmen's Condition's residency. They're pretty kick-ass, if we were to pick one compound modifier to describe them. Come check it out. The full bill is: 7pm - Cahill; 8pm - Okay Thursday; 9pm - Carmen's Condition.
We're gonna be busy in the coming months...here's the schedule as it stands:
1/23: Paradise Lounge (see above)
2/4: Copperfields w/ Veneer (their CD release show)
2/21: The Abbey Lounge w/ Wendi Faren
3/7: The Middle East Upstairs w/ Rachel Cantu (her CD release show) and Vivek
There is also a TOP SECRET private gig in the greater Cambridge/Somerville area this Saturday night (1/21) which is sort of an informal warm-up for this run of shows. You may know about it already...if not, message me and I can give you more info...(edit: email me: sarahkorval@hotmail.com)
As you probably know, Okay Thursday is:
Sarah Korval: singing, shadow-casting
Rebecca Mitchell: drums, shadow-puppets
Brad San Martin: guitar, reluctant singing, shadow-lurking
Clint Reeves: bass, shadow-dancing
www.myspace.com/okaythursday |
|
|
| My love/hate affair with Angora Cafe |
[Jan. 18th, 2006|10:53 am] |
So I ordered a sandwich from Angora yesterday for lunch. I order from them almost on a daily basis, yes I am *that* much of a loser/lazy/non-cooking female. Do you guys know that episode of Sex and the City where Miranda feels the takeout girl at the Chinese place is laughing at her for ordering so often? That's how I feel. I keep this place in buisiness. Their Avacado and Swiss roll-up rocks my world, and I adore it with some lite mayo and a little bit of extra cheese. It takes care of my protein, which is awesome for a vegetarian like myself. Anyway, I order this sandwich offline (they're part of some service called Foodler.) I've been doing this for months because they tend to fuck up orders when they don't have them in writing in front it them. Ordering online solves that problem.
The sandwich arrives and looks a little dinkier than usual, but that's okay. I look at the slip and it says correctly, with lite mayo and EXTRA cheese. Good. I unwrap the paper and take a look at the top. All I can see are tomatoes and sprouts, but again, that's okay. The healthy veggies are always a plus. I take a bite. Bland, as it's just still veggies. Another bite. Bland again. I reckon that it'll be some time before I hit the good stuff. About six bites in, I hit an avacado and a little bit of the mayo. Okay. There's some substance here. I keep waiting for my cheese.
At about an inch left to the sandwich, i finally realize that there is going to be no cheese whatsoever. Not only did they not give me extra swiss, they decided to leave it out altogether. Dammit. I usually don't complain, but I called up to do so and felt like an idiot because they knew who the hell I was. At least they gave me credit for a free wrap.
P.S. Aaron I owe you money. You around today?
P.P.S. They even fucked up my froyo :( |
|
|
| i need a back massage |
[Jan. 5th, 2006|01:27 pm] |
anyone wanna give me one for free?
seriously, i hurt. big time. as i told the Sunset crew last night, i decided to do a 4-hour bender at the gym yesterday from 4:30 to 8:30. the schedule looked like this:
4:30-5:30 Total Body Workout class
5:40-5:55 random eliptical machine workout
6:00-6:50 Spinning class
6:50-7:30 Kickboxing class
7:30-8:30 Club Fitness class
it was painfully awesome. i even ran home afterwards. once you've been in a certain cardio zone for awhile, you can pretty much do anything.
o-freakin-w. i was okay at the end of the night, but waking up this morning was pretty rough.actually, i've only gotten out of bed to eat some cereal and pee twice. otherwise, i'm pretty much bed ridden.
anyway, i have to hit the gym early today because i've got band practice tonight (yay) and then my Scamper buddies are releasing their split with Kay Hanley at TTs apres ca. i hear some of y'all are gonna be next door at the middle east. who? and do you wanna catch some dinner/drinks before the show?
seriously though, i really really need someone to kneed my lower back. anyone wanna skip out early on work to come over here and pamper me? |
|
|
| giddy gig |
[Jan. 4th, 2006|11:40 am] |
Last night's show went inCREDibly well. We were a last-minute addition to a bill at the Abbey lounge because another band had dropped out. The three of us were so insanely nervous about whether or not we were prepared (actually, four of us, because our new bass player who isn't yet playing with us was nervous for us as well. He was such a good little almost-bassist, helping us load in and set up!) I remembered why I loved playing music for other people. It's the best feeling when you're not only having fun on stage, but you know the audience is having fun too.
It's really difficult to keep that feeling with you when we rehearse in a bedroom with poor acoustics, the drums are loud, the guitar is distorted, and my mic is going through a bass amp. We really should get ourselves a nice practice space (and our drummer some nice drums!) Speaking of the drummer, she KILLED last night. Previously, we had her on a smaller, pared down kit. In the last couple of weeks, we brought out what we call the "big girl kit." We still hadn't had a practice where we had played through all the songs on this larger kit, but we decided to go for it anyway. The audience was made up of some seriously experienced drummers last night and they were all impressed by our chick. I still can't believe how much raving they were doing about her. I was so proud of my Reebsible :)
I'm so excited to be playing again. We've got two shows coming up in Feb. (Feb. 4th at Copperfields and Feb. 21st again at the Abbey.) so y'all better come and represent. If I can tuck in another January show somewhere, I'm gonna do it. I'll keep you updated and reminded and all that good shit.
hugs and kisses and slobbery licks to the face,
sarah |
|
|
| The Lovely Bones |
[Dec. 29th, 2005|01:47 am] |
I just finished reading "The Lovely Bones" for probably the sixth time. I adore that book. I cry buckets constantly with it. It is such an amazing tale along with a fantastic and hopeful interpretation of afterlife.
Alice Sebold is the author, and though her style doesn't stand out to me as anything spectacular or something I innately connect to...girlfriend can tell a story. It seems to be taking me a lot to sit down and get words on a page (this entry being the ONLY thing I've written, save emails, in the longest time,) and now that I have the time, I want to kick myself for not being able to churn out stories like anything, Alice Sebold makes me want to even more.
So, if you see me, say hello and ask me why I'm not sitting in front of a computer (seeing as I now have THREE of them in my little studio apartment,) writing my little heart out.
On another note, what the hell should GTB and I do on NYE? We don't want to pay ridiculous covers, but I'll be damned if I'm going to sit at home to ring in 2006. |
|
|
| R.I.P. Silver god |
[Nov. 18th, 2005|12:13 pm] |
I am of the evil people.
Prior to three years ago, I made fun of those who owned cell phones. I couldn't imagine conforming to the masses like that. I laughed at the guys who thought they were so cool with their phones clipped to their belts, and I rolled my eyes at the girls who would have obnoxiously loud conversations on their flip phones on the MBTA. Then, for my 20th birthday, my mom got me a cell phone. I remember the first time I used it: It was evening, and I was walking across the BC campus to get to class, talking to my boyfriend at the time. I felt so vulnerable, not being aware of my surroundings due to holding a conversation, which was odd considering that I frequently walked with my discman on.
I can't say that it was love at first use, but I certainly didn't shun it. I enjoyed knowing who was calling, I had never had caller ID before. My landline maintained its place as my first phone of use, especially considering that I was sharing a cell plan with my mom and had limited minutes. That summer, I subletted an apartment and no one really knew my home phone number there, so I had to rely a little bit more on my cell phone for contact. Slowly, but surely, my cell phone was becoming a staple in my life. Though my use of it increased, I still didn't trust the phone book in it. I kept a book of written numbers and refused to save them in my phone. I had heard too many horror stories about people losing all their information. I was not going to become a victim of technology.
When I graduated college, my cell phone was what kept me in touch with my hommies. I no longer had my dorm phone number that had been with me for four years. People knew how to reach me by the cell phone digits 203-561-8377. A little over a year ago, my first cute little fat black model was upgraded to a thin, silver (gasp!) photo phone. I enjoyed having a more chic phone, and though I certainly don't care about having the smallest/coolest/most advanced phone in the world, the ability to play tetris on it while riding the T has proven to be invaluable to me. Over the last year, I've learned that text messaging can be a fantastic form of communication, that camera phones without a flash won't do much for ya, and composing ringtones is a lot more fun than writing chorales for a counterpoint class. My silver phone was my companion, my aid.
I even started to use the phone book a little bit, though it wasn't until last month that I started relying on the cell's phone book alone and stopped writing down the numbers. There are about twenty numbers that are exclusive to my phone, and not in my cute little manual phone book. I had begun to trust technology a little more. It took a lot of breathing exercises to get to where I was, but I did get there. After the silver prince convinced me it was up for the job, I promoted it to my sole phone. I no longer have a ground line, no other phone contact with the outside world.
Then the INCIDENT happened. It's still a fresh wound, I can remember it like it was yesterday. It was yesterday. I was walking in the Garage in Harvard Square, speaking to my guitarist on the cute little silver cell, when I momentarily forgot that gravity thing, and that if you let go of things, they fall. My phone crashed to the ground, but I wasn't worried. This is a rountine we had been through before. I would drop it, it would get mad for a second (the battery would pop out and it would turn off in defiance,) but it always forgave me for the little knicks and scratches. This time, though, things were different. The battery didn't pop out.
I looked at it on the ground for a moment, waiting for the "just kidding!" declaration from my phone, waiting for it to eject the battery and smile at me. It didn't happen. It just sat there. When I realized that it wasn't going to recover, I picked it up and saw that it had turned off. I tried my best to resuscitate it. My fingers scrambled around the buttons. One two three CLEAR! One two three CLEAR! Nothing. I tried a few times, but nothing happened.
I spare you the rest of the guts and gore. I died a lot inside. I eventually got myself to a Verizon store where I learned I had full coverage and a replacement (replacement? you can't just REPLACE my freakin' friend by giving me a new model!) wouldn't cost me anything. However, I will have to wait until Monday to receive it. The screen is completely dead, but it comes out of its coma from time to time, and will make and receive calls. However, I can't see who's calling or even if the phone is ON. It's a disgrace.
I feel so...lost. Lost and betrayed. I didn't realize how dependent I was on the fucker. I didn't know it would abandon me in the height of our relationship. I am now essentially phoneless. I can't believe I actually trusted it to stay safe in my care. It should have known better. I will not put such faith in this next one. Every number will be written down by pen, I will not get so close to another phone again.
So if you've given your phone number to me in the last couple of months (or hell, if you just want to give me it for the first time,) my email is skorval@yahoo.com. I won't get any texts messages for the next couple of days, so leave me voice mails if you need to reach me. Sigh. I'm a shell of my normal self. |
|
|
| worth reading, if you have a moment. |
[Nov. 17th, 2005|11:08 am] |
Bonjour mes petits amis. Today I shall tell you the tale of Boxing Boris for our story hour. I'm going to have to heavily rely upon my writing skills here, because this is something that you really had to see to understand the full extent of.
Yesterday (Wednesday) is one of my kickboxing days. It's a fairly casual class. Much more focused than your average gym class, but not as intense as if you were actually training at a boxing gym. There are regulars and there are also people who drift in and out from week to week. I've been at it for about a year now, and for the most part, men have a very tough time with the training. It takes a lot of coordination. Most of the regulars are girls. In the past few weeks there have been a few guys who have stuck it out. I have this odd affection for them because they're working so hard at it. The average age range is mid to late 20s, so you're boxing with people who are at or can get to your level of fitness.
I hadn't brought my gloves with me and didn't want to put on the rank BSC gloves, so I told Olyver (of Uncle Olyver fame,) that I would just hold the focus pads today. That was the biggest mistake I've made towards my body in a looong time, and I'm including things from my past like "I can play basketball on a torn ACL," or "oooh! continuing step classes after twisting my ankle would be a GOOD idea," and "c'mon now...eating a whole box of chocolates REALLY isn't going to do that much to me."
I don the focus pads and get ready for people to punch at me. For those not "in the know," focus pads are used as targets. They're sort of like large oven mits with a SHITLOAD of padding. So in a kickboxing class like the ones I take, one person will hold these pads and move around the floor while another person with boxing gloves will move with them while trying to get some good shots at the pads. We're facing each other, with me shuffling and running backwards, and you have to punch your left hand to my left hand, your right hand to my right hand. They're still foward jabs, as you're not crossing your body, but you are making an "x" shape. Granted, not everyone knows what the hell they're doing, and even when Olyver gives them instruction, people still tend to just chase after you, arms flailing. It's usually good for an inner laugh, especially since I'm 5'10" and decently strong, and the girls who are "attacking" are usually NOT as strong. It's sort of like fending off a little sister.
Our new friend Boris (for lack of knowing his real name,) on the other hand, was a different story. Boris was a larger man, in his mid-50s probably, with a decent amount of strength behind him due to size rather than muscle. He was assigned to me for a round of focus pad punching on the floor. As I do when I've never met someone before, I asked "have you ever been here on the floor before?" just to make sure he knew what the deal was. In a VERY thick russian accent, Boris answers "yays, i hev bin here, but note in long vile. i know vut to do." Cool, he knows the deal. He asks "kick too?" to which I reply "no, no. you cannot kick me." (The kicking drills come later in class.) Great, so we've got all that settled.
The whistle goes and we're off. Boris starts chasing me like a MAD man. He's punching his left hand to my right hand, his right hand to my left hand...any wrong formation of punches, he did it. He was like an large, ugly, scary energizer bunny with no rhyme or reason to his attacks. He was the William Hung of boxing. He kept lifting his knee and hopping up and down as if to kick me, to which I would say "no! no kicking!" Then he'd spin around in a circle, like he was immitating a ballerina who had decided to become an old Russian man and lose all her grace and coordination. I swear, it was the kind of movement that you only see on television sitcoms.
Half the class had stopped what they were doing to stare at this. I felt like I was in the middle of a cartoon. It took all my energy to not burst out laughing in his face towards the beginning of the two-minute round. Eventually, I would catch eyes with someone and crack up, but I soon realized this wasn't a good idea because everytime I lost it a little, I'd get hit the face by Boris. Boris the fucking madman was punching me in the mouth. I'm sure I don't have to say it, but that was VERY uncool, it's just not something you do.
Okay, so the tough guy wants to make contact. His punches to the focus pads came with, well, a punch. They hurt because he was coming at the wrong angle (since he was punching the incorrect hand,) and my arms would fly backwards until they were almost out of the sockets. I still couldn't hold in the flat out cracking up and I would have to stop in my tracks because I would be doubled over with laughter. If he knew what he was doing, I should have been able to stop (as is part of the routine,) and he should have adjusted accordingly. My feet are in charge. Apparently he didn't see it that way and everytime I would stop, he would run into me and get very upset about it. He was obviously to my laughter.
Eventually, probably about halfway into our little sparring session, he says "you hhhhit me." I thought it was an accusation until I realized it was a challenge. He wanted ME to try to hit HIM. What the fuck? I've got pads on, buddy, not boxing gloves. But dammit all to hell, he had beat me the fuck up at this point so I started going straight for his head. I made contact a few times with his cranium and it pissed him off. He started flipping around a bit more, to which I screamed "no turning!" Of course this only made him turn more.
At this point, EVERYONE in class is staring with their jaws on the floor. We've never seen something like this mess of a man running after me. Had Olyver not been paralyzed by the sight of it, he probably would have blown the whistle to stop it, but he was both flabbergasted and amused. Eventually he yelled out "10 seconds!" which is a cue for the puncher to stop and punch as fast as they can back and forth for the last 10 seconds. I felt relief knowing the chasing was over, and I told Boris "okay, stay still and punch as fast as you can." He interprets this as "run even faster after me and punch with no semblance whatsoever."
He kept pushing me back and back and back and back, and I'm screaming "STAY STILL, DAMMIT! STAY STILL!" it got so bad that I eventually just moved out of the way and let him run after the air, punching at nothing. I had to leave the room immediately to crack up. One of the trainers asked if I had gotten hit in the face and I had to explain that the reason I was crying was because I was laughing too darm hard and my body couldn't handle it. He was the EXACT OPPOSITE of what you should do in a focus pad drill.
Olyver, who never shuts up and takes pride in being able to one-up people (ala "oh, i've seen worse" or "i've hurt myself far more than that silly broken neck,") came up to me, mouth closed, and after about a minute of silence, simply said "I owe you."
Yes. Yes, he does. |
|
|
| Be our band member. We want you. We need you. |
[Nov. 16th, 2005|11:28 am] |
You:
are a guy, a girl, or a canine.
play multiple instruments, probably only one of them halfway decently. Among the pile is bass and/or keyboards and some backing vocals...at least enough to "oooh" and "ahhh" in key.
Are in your 20s, or some version of it. (20s at heart works too.) This is for both my eye candy purposes (mentioned below,) and an immaturity, compatibility thing.
We:
are two girls, a guy, and a stuffed animal who play light-hearted pop rock about girls, boys, and everything in between.
spend most of our practice time insulting each other out of love, drinking/eating anything with pumpkin in it, and not being music snobs.
love music (for lack of a better word, duh.)
Pre-requisits: You must...
listen to our silly recordings at http://www.myspace.com/okaythursday and actually enjoy them to a degree (preferably liking them more than disliking them.)
be laid back enough that 15-minute discussions about disgusting things our coworkers say won't irk you.
be eye candy for me because staring at my microphone all the time is getting boring, and I can't look at the other two for fear they'll burn out my corneas with their evil stares.
not give two shits about "Pro gear." This is a low-maintenance band. Okay, you can give two shits, but absolutely not three.
(One thing to note: if you have a keytar, you're probably uncool enough for us, but we're still going to judge you.) |
|
|
| yay for myspace! |
[Nov. 10th, 2005|02:43 pm] |
Hi my lovlies. I know it's long awaited (by none of you,) but I finally put up the myspace page for our new band, Okay Thursday.
Be our friend?
You know you want to.
http://www.myspace.com/okaythursday
Yeah baby, click it. Just like that. There's some lo-fi recordings on there plus the history of the entire world on that page. You'll learn all... |
|
|
| navigation |
| [ |
viewing |
| |
most recent entries |
] |
| [ |
go |
| |
earlier |
] |
| |
|
|
![[info]](http://l-stat.livejournal.com/img/userinfo.gif){kind=small}
yawpsong's journal