The End

175 posts, 29,000 hits, 20 months later, and Letters by Larissa is done for good.

In November 2009, I created this blog to give myself an outlet for writing. I had a surplus of inspiration going on at that time– a new ambition, a new relationship, the markings of a new life to live. Since then, I’ve written for major newspapers in the country, gone abroad to hone this pesky love for writing and learned to love like I’ve never had, and won’t ever for some time.

I grew up, and I no longer am the same girl who began writing about her fears, dreams and insecurities here, 20 months ago. I had everything at the tips of my fingers then, and finally now, none of what I used to have.

I’m now writing on a new blog handle, one which I will share as soon as it’s ready to be shared. For now, it’s time for a clean slate, a new life to live, and I am thankful for every single hit this blog has gotten, whether intentional or accidental.

Don’t Feed the Plants!

A down-and out skid row floral assistant becomes an overnight sensation when he discovers an exotic plant with a mysterious craving for fresh blood. Soon “Audrey II” grows into an ill-tempered, foul-mouthed, R&B-singing carnivore who offers him fame and fortune in exchange for feeding its growing appetite, finally revealing itself to be an alien creature poised for global domination!

Presenting Ateneo Blue Repertory’s 20th Season Premiere, Little Shop of Horrors!

With all the pressures in a fast-paced world obsessed with money and beauty, it isn’t hard to imagine that anyone would do absolutely anything to fulfil their dreams – whether through hard work or Faustian deals. But with the allure of earning fast bucks and becoming overnight sensations, shady businesses have become a lot more common.

Even the honest-to-goodness nice guys aren’t immune to this kind of temptation, and Seymour Krelborn is one of them. He is the protagonist of Little Shop of Horrors, a black comedy musical satirizing old-school sci-fi movies and one of the longest running Off-Broadway shows of all time. This July 2011, the Ateneo Blue Repertory presents Little Shop of Horrors as its 20th season’s premiere.

With book and lyrics by Howard Ashman and music by Alan Menken, Little Shop of Horrors is the story of a miserable shopkeeper’s yearning for a better life and a chance at love, all encouraged by a devious plant who manipulates him into quenching its thirst for blood and world domination in exchange for his heart’s desires. Thus, he must choose between right and wrong, all for the sake of a bit of glory.

Directed by Toff de Venecia (director of blueREP’s All Shook Up and Freakshow) and Musical Direction by blueREP’s Artistic Director Ejay Yatco (musical director of blueREP’s Edges), blueREP’s Little Shop of Horrors runs from July 27-August 13 at the Fine Arts Theater, Ateneo de Manila University. Tickets are P199. Please contact Mica Fajardo at 09178908795 to purchase them.

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On a side note, I’d like to extend a huge bunch of enthusiastic congratulations to blueREP for finally making Little Shop of Horros happen! I have to admit I’m not so familiar with the material, but I understand it’s a Broadway classic, and to have (the best) college musical theater organization in the country stage it is very exciting. And if anyone’s going to pull it off, it’s definitely going to be blueREP! So watch, guys. If you aren’t satisfied with your P199, sagot ko na– that’s how sure I am of this production’s ability to astound!

Dream Defect

I’ve been getting the most vivid dreams lately.

Like last night, when I dreamt of CSI actress Jorja Fox beating me up, because I had morphed into a black girl. I have no idea if her reason for hitting me black and blue had anything to do with the race I magically turned into, but I think the good amount of time I spent in Paris’ more “colored” neighborhoods taught me not to be racist, so that leaves me (with no choice, but) to conclude that Jorja Fox probably, possibly is.

I like to check Dream Moods  whenever I have strange dreams. They always seem to have appropriate interpretations, and although I do believe that dreams can be utterly be useless and devoid of any meaning (my trained neuro-linguistic programmer boyfriend thinks so too), sometimes it doesn’t hurt to check. It’s like taking a peek at your horoscope in the morning, and ignoring it if it doesn’t make sense, but also, getting really excited when it’s totally applicable to your present life situation.

I recently had a very weird dream, involving someone I knew from school who I wasn’t very close with. And now, whenever I see that person walking around campus and we say hello, I feel funny and awkward, because no matter how off-the-mark they are, dreams tend to be very personal– and to dream about someone you barely even know feels like an invasion of privacy of sorts, both for the dreamer and the dreamee (hello, made-up word).

I’ve been thinking about how that person will never, ever know about my dream. Because, as much as we’d like to, we never can really tell what people think of us and how they see us. If you had a choice, would you like to be gifted with the power to know how people perceive you? I wouldn’t, and not just because I don’t think I would be able to take so much honesty that brutally (although that’s partly it), but also because the gift (yes, gift) of not knowing is what makes life so interesting. So we really don’t have much of a choice dreamee– here’s to more awkward and embarrassing on-campus hello’s with you.

 

From 946 to Nil

My social life is on a severe decline.

It’s the effect of different causes: no more student organizations this senior year, no good friends in most of my classes, no default hang-out spot, no newspapers or magazines to write for, no upcoming events to host, nothing. Absolutely nothing.

And just when I thought living the good and relaxed life would for sure drive me impossibly nuts, it surprisingly doesn’t. Having so much time on my hands used to be a bad thing– because I would always waste it on the Internet– but since I got rid of that too, I’m spending it doing more worthwhile things, like finishing Sophie’s Choice or finally rendering my required scholarship hours. Or like reading my school readings comprehensively, religiously and every single day, because I decided recently that I don’t want to graduate just cum laude. I mean, if you have all the time in the world now to reach the next honor after that, you go for it.

Although it may look like I’m setting myself up for hermit living (completely unintentional, just so you know), my family and close friends say that, knowing me, I’ll find something to do. And knowing me too, maybe I will. There’s still that internship I have yet to find, that call I’m still waiting on, that gym I have yet to go to (grr). But those things aren’t urgent; in the meantime, I’ll enjoy my languorous cat naps and reading sessions, keeping my fingers lazily crossed that my social life somehow manages to revive itself, on its own.

And if it doesn’t, well, I guess there’ll be more cat naps for me.