25 ways of getting over your ex

Adi and I were digging for ideas in the midst of the 24-Hours playwriting competition. Adi's a drama instructor in our local schools, so he know of exercises to keep our ideas flowing. So we brainstormed.

Presenting: 25 ways of getting over your ex.

Dear Alien

Dug from an old notebook. I have many of those. I wrote this during a playwriting workshop session within 10 to 15 minutes. Raw, no editing.From my notes I gathered that this exercise helps you explore your voice as a writer.

Here's the exercise, as far as I can remember. You can try it out too.

Pen a letter to an alien, an opening letter to get him/her interested to be your friend

1. Pick an alphabet. A-Z, yes. (Mine was N.)

2. List 15-20 words beginning with your chosen alphabet.

3. Write letter littered with the list of words. In that order.

Note that this was written in 2006, when I was still pondering on what to do with my life, in a job I'm not happy with, and bitter that I don't have a Bachelors title to put within my namecard, yet not doing anything about it. I was also potty mouth. A vulgarian. Okay, still am actually. But one can't nabei here and nabei there too often when you're in your mid twenties, bah.

The 24-Hr Playwriting Competition by Theatreworks is happening this month, and I'll try to post my findings as I prepare myself for this year's contest. Didn't prepare well last year.

---

Dear Alien,

Damn nabei, I tell you, the world I live in! Yes, the style I speak in might sound new to you, but never mind lah. Soon, I'm going to be telling you more bloody nonsense you've never went through. Of course, I'm here, assuming that you have beady eyes, grey in colour, huge bottom, like in those Hollywood movies. Erm, what is Hollywood? Yeah, you don't know that either. So where do I start?

Really, seriously, What do you want to know? If I'm going to put myself in your shoes or whatever you guys happen to wear on your feet (If you have any). I'm going to think that you would be interested in our people. People who like neutral colours. People who like brighter colours. The world is full of colours but yet, the naughty things happen to be black. Like the lacy underwear I wear on, erm, special occasions. I mean those nights which I'm brought to Neverland, if you know what I mean, heehee. Okay. Maybe you don't once again.

Now, usually when I start writing stuff that has gone out of point, I'll tear the letter away. Or perhaps you've, by now, chosen to tear this away because you don't know what I'm talking about.

Let's start with questions then. Do you like to nibble? Yes I like to nibble alot ,especially on my finger. It gives me the intellectual look - like I'm thinking of something deeply. It's important to look intellectual, especially in this world, else no one will really take you seriously. If not, how to survive?

Well, my world's president's name is Nathan, but I believe it's much longer than that. But we just call him Nathan for short. S.R. Nathan. What's your president's name? Must be very long as well, huh? Considering these important people having the longest name and sometimes beneath their names they have to tell their father's names, and what university they studied in, and their masters, and their PHD. Just another way of making yourself more important and appear intellectual once again.

I consider myself normal, and by normal I don't have the longest name. I take the MRT to work everyday, and my hair's the same as the rest of the girls taking the MRT. Long, straight, boring. How do you look? Do you consider yourself normal? Do you happen to look the same as the rest of your alien buddies? If you come here you probably wouldn't look normal. Not that that is a good thing. This world we live in don't like people that look different. But feel free to come and visit my house. It's away from people, my parents watch TV the whole night, and I wouldn't judge you, haha.

Talking about my parents, my father's interested in poking needles into people. Apparently that's supposed to help you feel good afterwards if you happen to be ill. Yes, people fall ill easily in this world. We got things like fever, cancer, flu, and if you've got anything of that sorts, you don't have to go to work. Which is a good thing.

Do you always have any work to do? Because no work is good. It'll be a good place to live in. I wake up every morning wishing that I don't have to go to work. And then I'll fall back asleep but I'll be awaken by the neighbours' kids going to school.

Well, got to go. Perhaps you can reply my questions, and then there'll be communication between you and me?

Yours sincerly,
JY.

By the way, I tried to say "It was horrible."

Last Saturday I made a cross-country journey to the East side of our country to catch Monsoon, a theatre production by Yellow Chair Productions, the group lead by one of my juniors in Poly, Shaiful.

It seemed promising: nice, professional looking poster. Cute girl. A simple storyline to look forward to: girl meets boy, they fall in love. No heavy concepts to swallow on a nice Saturday night out with old friends.

My verdict after watching? As the blog title said: It was horrible.

There, I've said it, honest truth, swearing on George Carlin's grave (RIP, you funny man). I'm sorry, Shaiful, there's no other way to put it. This review, coming from me, doesn't matter whether I've not dabbled in theatre in such a long time. This review, written not as a friend with nothing but praises, but a member of the audience.

Now allow me to explain my displeasure.

The girl, allergic to the sun, runs freely in the open, only when the monsoon seasion arrive.Where's the logic in this?

And so the 15 year old Sophelia is allergic to the sun, and only "run freely in the open" when the monsoon season arrive.

Erm hello, I'm not some science student and never will be lah, but SRSLY, from what I know in my almost 24 years of existence in Singapore, the concept of Day & Night is still in the works for Planet Earth, even during the Monsoon season! The sun will still continue shining over the pouring rain and dark clouds and what have you, so no way, NO friggin way would a girl supposedly allergic to the sun be allowed to run freely in wide-open fields when the Monsoon season come. But the girl dies at the end of the show, so.... it could have been all that running she was doing in the pelting rain.

The lead characters talk a damn lot in the rain

Sophelia meets Adrian, 15 years of age, aspiring weatherman, who plays with his handmade Anemometer in the same wide-open field as Sophelia, the same place where they talked, played badminton, and fall in love eventually with each other's quirkiness: Sophelia's home-schooled and doesn't have any friends. Adrian's the geek adorning the obligatory geeky glasses. Everything supposedly happened in the horrible weather.

SRSLY, have you guys ever tried having a conversation with a friend IN THE POURING RAIN?!: your hair gets into your eyes, your clothes get soaked heavy, you get damn short-fused because you are a Singaporean that carries a million electronic gadgets that happen to be not waterproof (camera/handphone/mp3player/laptop/vibrator), you have to SHOUT to your friend due to all that pitter patter going on around you... you should get my idea by now. But our two leads happily continue chattering for a majority of the 2 and a 1/2 hour play (yes, it was that long a torture). Unless we're living in some Bollywood, Kollywood or Taiwanese drama, nobody do talking in the rain, okay? Or trying to be the Punjabi Sexy.

Let's just say, I'm all wrong about what I saw: you can't exactly re-create a rain scene in a live theatre performance. "They could be underneath a sheltered place! Or covered walkway!" you could argue. Aye, come on, tell me lah, who will go and play with his wind-speed measuring device in the shelter, huh?!

And another one. "They could be meeting each other at night, what!" Let's go back to the concept of Day & Night, shall we? You mean the home-schooled Sophelia wasn't taught Science, har? If Nightfall occurs every single day, why the fuck does Sophelia only come out during the Monsoon season when she could have came out anyday during night-time?

Everything could be condensed into perhaps an hour

2hrs 30 mins was about how long we sat there: the length of a Bollywood movie, without the song and dance sequence. And in a live theatre show, you are not blessed with a device called "the remote control". There's no "fast-forward" button, you see, to skip through really forgettable parts.

Act 2: apparently Adrian's father died in Act 1, and it was revealed at the start of Act 2 on how he died. A bloody long monologue by Adrian's Mother & her eulogy, dedicated to a character that hardly formed an impression other than the role being taken by the rather hamsum Taufik. A bloody long monologue, that, if taken out of the play, wouldn't affect the storyline at all, other than giving the girl who was acting as the Mother a chance to drama-mama-wayang-wayang abit.

What else can you remove? Remove the cheesy pop-culture references (Rihana's Umbrella). Remove Adrian's parents: their characters are pointless & doesn't move the story forward. Remove the guy that hangs around with Adrian, because a "popular guy" like him would never hang around with a geek like Adrian. Remove Sophelia's doctor: yes Shaiful, you would like to have a small part in every play you direct, but only Quentin Tarantino does it perfectly in Pulp Fiction as Jimmy. Remove that big fat guy (sorry,Aishah) that is supposedly the future Adrian, because squeezing such cheap laughs from us doesn't fucking help improve the show in the end.

Kill your Sound & Lighting Crew, lah
Yes, we can save alot of time if we could have a faster fade-out in changing the scenes. And Sound, make your music "fade-out", don't cut completely. It's irritating. And since the play is called Monsoon, I didn't hear a drop of rain, but I have aplently of thunder instead.

And yes of course, she died.
Sophelia died. Yes, of course she died. Somebody/bodies in Shaiful plays always die. But we don't know why. It's not explained. But of course when we watch theatre, we're expected to make educated guesses or come out with our own conclusions: the girl has XP and she died from all that accidental exposure to the UV Rays. Or a heartbreak. I don't know. And now I don't really care.

The Saving Grace
Praise teh Ceiling Cat, we have The Saving Grace: Chong Yi Han, one of the playwrights, stole the show, acting as Sophelia's grandmother. Clearly, he wrote for himself the best lines as well: how very sneaky of him.

Other than that, there were some cheesy lines in the script which had the audiences roaring with laughter, and me going "this is so lame" and Audrey going "Yes, you did have a lame leg" and Joyce going "now Rashad has one" and roared in laughter in our own little show at the back of the theatre.

______________________

Okay, fine. Let's be forgiving, and look at the whole picture: the guys that put this up are a buncha youths. They don't get paid to do this. They apparently rehearsed in three weeks, whilst some of them serving NS somemore. I only paid SGD$8 to watch this. No way should I expect it to be some professional theatre stuff, right? Not quite true. I've been to school productions and gone "wow, this is good!"

And Shaiful has been doing Yellow Chair Productions for almost 2 years now, but I'm still watching stuff which is of the same quality & cheesiness as I've seen from two years ago with Tainted Flower.

Okay done. Now hit me with Hate Mail.

Chesty Nutty Bang Me!

Go watch Chesty Nutty Bang Bang: Hairspray of the Phoenix!



I watched Chestnuts every year since 2003 with the male nurse. Last year Adi, Audrey and Fadhil joined us. This is the live parody show that could make a spoof of ANYONE or ANYTHING. Even the Lees. You know which Lees. It is amazing that they haven't got bashed up, or banned yet.

But this year, though I bought myself front-row tickets for the 2nd Feb, I wouldn't be there. Instead, I've a freelance stint backstage, sometimes found dabbing the sweat off Jonathan Lim with an old-school Good Morning towel as he does quick costume changes for the various short skits that makes up the whole show. That is the one big man that can get away with wearing a dress: he's a joy to work with and watch.

Till today, I've already watched 8 installments of this year's show from Stage Left, and the songs and the jokes have became a permanent fixture in me. I'm now that irritating kid who keeps spoiling the show for everyone else that haven't watched it! Audrey's complaining, and I bet Harlina (who watched the opening show, HALFWAY, I might like to add... stupid girl!) is pissed off.

Here's a chance to see Rodney Oliveiro playing with his cock (seriously lah!) and Singapore Idol finalist Go-Go-Gomez! in sexy shorts. And super cute Yeo Yann Yann! Ooops... I'll say no more. If you haven't caught the show, faster go and buy a ticket!

Only 5 shows left (31 Jan 2008 - 2nd Feb 2008)
Tickets at $40,$30,$20 available at Gatecrash.

As this blog post is hardly a synopsis and review, here's the link to Stages' website:

And here are a couple of links that have done much sucking up, erm I mean, flattered the show (bad ones I don't want to link up lah):
Flying Inkpot Theatre Review: Chesty Nutty Bang Bang: Hairspray of the Phoenix - It's given 5 Stars!
QueerCast #56: Chesty Nutty Bang Bang! (It's a pre-show interview)
Trevvy: Chesty Nutty Bang Bang: The Hairspray of The Phoenix