My Life in the Big Banana -- uhh, Apple. #3

So... how long has it been? Am I a week overdue? Yes. Why? Overwhelmed... but in a good way. Here's why I'm overwhelmed. 1. Homework load; 2. I feel like an outsider; 3. Sleeping patterns; 4. Everything else.

1. Homework Load.

I haven't ever had so much homework in my life; but I'm sure that makes sense because this is the most advanced point in my educational career. I mean seriously - read a billion plays a week. Practice acting exercises; practice movement stuff; practice voice stuff... by the time I'm through with everything, I think I've exhausted all twenty-four hours and have borrowed some time from the next day. By my current calculations, I think I'm in 2016... and by the way? No flying cars yet, but! we all are wearing foil for clothing simply because of the global warming thing. (Invest in Reynolds Wrap NOW people, NOW.) Anypinkles (it's a phrase that catches on in 2014; kinda like "anyway"), if I were a tiny bit smart, I would divide the homework among the days given to do the assignments, and then it wouldn't be so terrible. Look! An idea! I should probably follow the idea - do I? No. Of course not. That would take the spice and variety out of life. For example, if I were following a fantastic schedule that kept me sane, I wouldn't be blogging. And then where would you be? Stuck reading "The New Yorker" or "Highlights Magazine." I suppose I know what I have to do. I have to follow a detailed schedule, and then I can write about success! But that's no fun to read - we all want to read about other people's problems because then our problems don't appear so magnified - you know what I mean? I bet you're all sitting at home thinking, Hallelu! I don't have to read The Taming of the Shrew seventeen times!

2. I feel like an outsider. Why? Probably because I am. I am not from New York. I am from California. And proud of it. I've always felt like an outsider... but not like this. I feel like I don't fit in, and it is creating stress. I am very proud of my beliefs and opinions, but when I introduce myself, I don't say, "Hi. My name's Raji. I believe in Jesus Christ, his virgin birth, his ascension into heaven and to be now forever seated at the right hand of the Father, and you need to believe in him." Whether people choose to believe in Jesus Christ is their option; that's up to that person. I just say, "Hi. I'm Raji." And then people ask what my tattoo means because they see it on my wrist. So I explain its biblical meaning, and then watch people's faces cringe because I said one of the following words: bible, proverbs, or verse. The first week I was here, someone called me: "The Religious Boy." And then I mentally assigned a name to him and asked for forgiveness. Anypinkles, hi. I'm Raji. Love me or hate me. It is what will be.

3. Sleeping patterns. One solution: STOP DRINKING COFFEE AT FREAKIN 6:00PM, IDIOTASTIC INDIVIDUAL.

4. Everything Else. I know I belong in this city, and being terribly homesick is natural. There are things I see when upon looking, I well with tears. For example, eating at a restaurant my mom, friend and I ate at when the two were moving me in. Bittersweet. Or riding the subway from the Canal St. Station where the three of us bought our subway passes. Or just needing a hug from my mom. That's when I am so thankful for the cell phone. Pick it up, dial the mom, and talk. Always makes me feel better. And Skype! Thank the Jesus for Skype! With Skype I can see all yo faces! And they beaudiful liddle thangs, sometims pixel-hated, but beaudiful nun-da-lezz!

A list of things I miss:

1. Mom.

2. Cottonwood and all people associated.

3. My own bed.

4. My couch.

5. My car.

6. My car.

7. My car.

8. Rubio's.

9. Albertacos.

10. My car.

11. My Starbucks and all people associated.

12. My bathroom - I know it's ludicrous, but one's own bathroom is very important!

13. And finally, you. I'm sure I miss you... unless Satan is reading this.. because how could I miss him? He's everywhere! Anypinkles, thanks for readin.

Type atcha lata alligata.

My Life in the Big Banana, uhh -- Apple. Week #1, Part 2.

Week #1 (Part 2). (9:58 PM EST)

So maybe that was a little big longer than 8 hours. I’m sorry. I have spent this first week by myself. I get invited out to meet people often by a friend here and there or by my suite-mate, but really, I want to be alone. I will meet people in due time. I want to have “RajiTime” to restore myself, and let me tell you: it’s working tremendously well. Yesterday, I took the subway uptown for about fifteen minutes and sat in Central Park for two hours to read a book. That did wonders for my spirit. It really did. I think I’ll be doing more of that tomorrow.

Otherwise, I am very excited for the start of school. I have heard so much about my intended program: The Tisch School of the Arts. I have heard good things; I have heard great things; I have heard bad things; I have heard horrible things. I am very excited to make my own judgment come Tuesday. Until then, I will spend a lot of time mulling about the dormitory - speaking of the dormitory: my roommate and I are getting along swimmingly. He’s a fantastic person, and I would love to get to know him better. The only thing one might consider a “problem” might be the fact that he is early to bed, and I am late to bed. So far, no hiccups.

Currently, I am waiting for the end of my laundry cycle. Here is a major bonus: literally right next door to my suite is the laundry room! I don’t have to go far for clean clothes! Before moving here, I envisioned myself hoofing it to some laundromat blocks from my dormitory. But now I’m not hoofing, but rather tip-toeing across the hall. I’d rather tip-toe than hoof any day. (Excuse me while I steep some tea. Steeping done.)


While my mother and friend were here, the friend and I went to see Promises, Promises--a revival musical starring Kristin Chenoweth and Sean Hayes. A wonderful experience. Katie Finneran is featured in the play as “Marge MacDougall.” The woman is brilliant. She is nothing short of a comedic goddess in the stylings of Lucille Ball. No wonder she won the Tony award for her performance. She literally makes the show - it would not be the same without her. And I’m speaking specifically of Katie Finneran. It’s a great character, but the wrong performer would make it annoying. Finneran is p.e.r.f.e.c.t. And not only is she a fantasterful performer, her heart is the size of all five boroughs. (When you move here you take on the colloquialisms, although I’m sure that’s not a real one.) In her Tony acceptance speech she spoke to the hopefuls at home watching who are waiting for their moment on the Tonys stage. She encouraged us to keep going, follow our hearts and passions, and to listen only to ourselves. She’s just as warm and friendly in person, and I have a feeling that lends to her success.

My new friend Ryan is a great person. He and I met at the Promises stage door. He is a Tisch student as well who lives in my building. After losing at the Wicked lottery, we went to the following shows looking for tickets: Memphis, The Addams Family, La Cage Aux Folles, and A Little Night Music with a brief stop by the TKTS booth for Love, Loss, and What I Wore tickets. We decided upon A Little Night Music starring Bernadette Peters and Elaine Stritch. While waiting for the Night Music house to open, we saw Kelsey Grammer heading into the theatre for his show. I took the opportunity to yell in the best Frasier-obsessed way: “KELSEY GRAMMER WE LOVE YOU!” He turned back and yelled, “Thanks!” And gave us a huge wave. That was awesome.

Okay people. To see these two women (Stritch and Peters) perform right before your very eyes is an experience a theatre nerd totally appreciates. We went to the stage door after the show, and my heart leapt at the thought of meeting Stritch. She did not come out. Peters did however, and seemed to be in a hurry. She spoke hardly to anyone, and rushed into a car. This action, I will clarify, does not speak about who she is as a person. Who knows the day she could have had? Who knows what appointment she needed to get to? But I did see a girl crushed because she wanted a picture with her... and this leads me to ask the question: would people flock to theatres to see shows if stars aren’t in them? The answer: yes and no. Yes if the show is of fantastic quality; (I know all roads lead back to Wicked but seriously people - it’s a kickin show.) it doesn’t matter who is in that show - I mean seriously: Mel Brooks could be playing Glinda and the show would sell out (for different reasons, I’m sure). If the show isn’t good, it seems to require a big name to draw attention... and from what I’ve noticed this is prevalent on Broadway. And it’s sad. It speaks to the fact that it needs better material - and hallelujah for my generation (said humbly).

At Night Music, Ryan and I met a warm, friendly, gracious couple: Christopher and Fabio. Christopher took the time to talk to Ryan and I about our beginnings in the city, and he honestly set my mind at ease regarding many things. Having grown up in the city, Christopher was great at sharing his New York experiences. I couldn’t help but hug the man when we parted after the show. Christopher and Fabio are a remarkable example of the warmth this city has to offer. Constantly, I am meeting wonderful people who enjoy great conversation, and I feel as though I am home. Too often, I am caught up in my feelings of homesickness. I look at the pictures adorning my desk, and I think of the wonderful people in California. Then God reminds me that He is wherever I am when he sends me lovely people like these two men who just enjoy an uplifting conversation. I have met tons of people in just the little time I’ve been here who uplift my spirit.

A friend of mine once said, “The face of God is six billion strong.” I know there are people who would argue that statement, however I feel it is true. Whether or not someone is in relationship with The Father does not change the fact that the person is made in His image. So everyday, when I’m walking the streets of New York City alone, I look up and see the many faces made in the image of God, and I feel home around me.

My next blog will come after my first day of classes: Tuesday, September 7, 2010.

My Life in the Big Banana -- uhh, Apple. Week 1, Part 1.

Friday, August 27, 2010 - Saturday, September 4, 2010 (1:06 AM EST)

After a long travel from Los Angeles, a connection in Milwaukee, and an arrival in New York City, I wanted to sleep. We (my mother, great friend--more like family, and I) arrived at our hotel in Chinatown ready for some Zs. I hadn’t the opportunity to really digest the fact that I’d arrived in my actual dream, and that it was--is--unfolding right before me. On the way from LaGuardia Airport in Queens, I was talking to the cabby. The cabby was a Bengali man named Mohammed; I, too, am a Bengali man with Mohammed for a middle name, so he likely felt familial ties (whether that’s good or bad, you decide; I believe that there is some cabby in me.)
I was discussing New York City theatre with Mohammed. I asked him his favorite shows; he replied: “New York City theatre not for poor people. I can’t afford to take my family.” My heart sank. I could not understand not being able to take your family to see the best theatre in the world right in your very own neighborhood. Horrifying. I would like to change that.
My first week in NYC consisted of moving into my dorm, meeting my fantastic roommate, and much shopping for my suite (of which mom + friend did all). I spent many hours at Tisch and NYU various orientations and welcome activities (one of which to choose from was a class called “Sexploration.” Did I go?). By day three I was exhausted. I swore that if I heard one more squeaky-clean-ASB-knock-off from Virginia ask me if I needed directions to the bathroom, I was going to smack her. I decided to skip out on a few events to spend some much needed time with my mom.
After twenty years of being a two-person family, my mother and I have separated physically. However, we will never be separated emotionally or spiritually. When I received my acceptance letter from NYU, my mom said, “Raji. I feel like you and I have grown up together... we’ve been through adolescence together, and now we’re adults together. God is showing us the next chapters for our lives.” Together and separately my mother and I will complete our next chapters.
Part 2 of this article contains these things: Kristin Chenoweth, my new friend Ryan, Kelsey Grammer, Bernadette Peters, and Christopher & Fabio: a sweet, endearing couple I met at A Little Night Music. ... I would write more... but it’s now 1:21 AM and this NYC boy needs his sleep.

"My Life in the Big Banana -- uhh, Apple" will continue right after this 8-hour message.
...excuse me, is that snoring I hear?

July 30, 2010

There is so much to update. I need to write about the following: my first trip to New York City, my experience auditioning for The Juilliard School, my second trip to New York City to audition for The Tisch School of the Arts at NYU, my acceptance to Tisch, and now my transition from "West-coaster" to "East-coaster." Look forward to those blogs!

#5. I'm Going on a Diet vs. I'm Changing My Lifestyle

You know what I find interesting?

The complete dichotomy of "over-weight" America and the "obsessed-with-organic-product-working-out-24/7" America. Maybe it's just because I am sucked into this bubble of Orange County where appearance is everything... and right across the county-line border are people who actually enjoy their food. I don't know.

I'm sick and tired of people "going on diets." I think diets are totally ineffective. Because the minute you deprive yourself of something or you tell yourself that something is "bad" for you, the more you're going to want it. (Not "you" of course, but the proverbial "you.")

I am in the process of trying to shape-up for my move to New York City so that when I hit the town, I am the best version, physically, of myself. So far, it ain't going so well. The other day, I think I ate 10-12 oatmeal cookies (they were delicious, homemade cookies), the next day I had three too many pieces of pizza, after that I yes -- I did this -- I am horrified to admit -- I ate an entire Ralph's coffee cake all by myself. One half at night, and the next half in the morning before going to the gym. But I must say that I have been working out harder than ever, and it does feel great!

I recall when I was on a Daniel fast at the beginning of the year. The only foods I was supposed to be eating was anything derived from a seed. Bascially, no meat, bread, or sweets. And I felt wonderful. I didn't feel weighed down as I do now. I felt literally like it was easier to move - not so sluggish. And that is the lifestyle change I am employing starting right this very moment. I mean I won't be on such strict guidelines because it won't be a spiritual fast, but I will be focusing on my physical and mental health. I am moving to a city that requires me to be alert every second that I'm awake and about, and I can only hope that I would use common sense in taking care of my body.

New plan: raw fruits and vegetables. A lot of water. Gym 5 days a week. A new attitude. No fast food. I will blog my results and use this forum as accountability. Yay for you people.

I'm not on a diet. I'm changing my lifestyle.

The Theory of the Third Place

After watching You've Got Mail fifty bajillion times, I am confronted with the idea that everyone has a third place. The first place is your home. The second place is your job. The third place is where you spend the remainder of your time. Starbucks has made their billions by becoming the professional third place.

More to follow...

#3. June 5, 2010

AAAAAAAAAAAAAARRRRRGGGGHHHHH!! - It happened. It totally happened. The one thing that I didn't want to happen with this dang thing happened. I stopped. I stopped blogging. I stopped sharing my thoughts with my negative six readers. (Why I picked the number six is beyond me; you pick the significance.) But now, I am writing a blog because I am watching the fantastic Julie & Julia, a film by the fantastic Nora Ephron who really - I think is in the lineage of Jesus (how? I don't know). She's just fantastic. (Dang. Could I use "fantastic" more? Actually - yes. Fantastic. Fantastic. Fantastic. Fantastic. Fantastic...)

I thought this would be different.
Apparently, I was stupid to think that I would actually write in this thing daily - but here's my question: who in the heck reads this thing? What is the purpose of a BLOOOOG? WHAT is the purpose? A very, very intelligent friend of mine asked, quite honestly and innocently, "So, a blog just turns into someone's rant on life?" And I thought, Yep. You basically nailed it on the head. I guess the reason I thought this would be different was because it's an "e" thing. And when I say "e" thing, I mean the same "e" as in "e"mail, or "e"trade, or "e"check = electronic. And aren't "e"lectronic things supposed to be "e"asy? I thought because I got to type this one that I would do it more often because I feel that my thoughts are more fluid when typed; I feel they flow better. What the heck - "I feel" this. "I feel" that. I am very certain that my thoughts flow better when typed. (If you can't tell, I'm sorta miffed that this is my first entry in over a month!) So electronic versus traditional - laziness and procrastination still take the cake; tell that to Apple.

I want it to be different.
There are suuuhhhh-hhhooooo (so) many things that have happened to me over the last month that I haven't written down. I have not really written anything in a long time. And the one thing I do know is that writers write. Writers write daily. That's what separates them from non-writers. Writes write and non-writers non-write. Good for them. I am now unemployed (by my own doing; the day I'm fired from a job, blogspot.com will be the third to hear about it) and out of school - I have plenty of time to write. So help me Moses, I will write!

See you in a year.

#2. I'd Like the Kid's Meal, Please

I think it's quite obvious that America has an over-eating problem. Even when I'm not hungry, I go to Taco Bell to get a couple of things to munch on while I watch I Love Lucy. But, why? Why do I do this? After searching and searching for an answer, I don't actually know. Perhaps I need a clinical psychologist to diagnose my problem of NeedingtacobellduringILoveLucyitis. Maybe it's a complex. Maybe I just like junk food. The problem here is training myself to actually stop eating when I'm full and realize that my stomach is saying to my mind, "STOP! STOP NOW. Don't you feel the limit? I know you feel the limit! What's wrong with you!?" If people would just listen to their stomachs, and feel the limit, I don't think that there would be so many overweight people in the United States, I really don't. But the other problem is the psychological overeating because of emotional problems... I can't help ya there. Sorry. Take that one to Jesus and your local psychiatrist.

Today, I went to Rubio's for lunch. Ohmigoodness, how I love Rubio's. I ordered a kid's meal. The bean burrito in the kid's meal at Rubio's is by far enough for me. It also came with a soda, chips, and a churro (yum). I kept staring at the bean burrito thinking, okay. This is probably the size of most humans' stomachs. And, it is the smaller size of the bean burrito to accomodate the "child." At the end of the meal, (now) I felt the limit line in my stomach saying, "Sir, you could have eaten a little bit less, and you know it." And this leads me to think: if a kid's meal fills me, a growing adolescent male, then why are portions so large? I think this is the question that the restaurant industry needs to answer. My firm belief is that the adult's meals need to become the size of the kid's meal and the kid's meal should downsize. Because, if a kid's meal is making me more than full, what is it doing to the small child who only wants the meal for the toy?

#1. May 4, 2010

I'm very excited about the prospects of a blog. I do consider myself somewhat of a writer, and I think that it will definitely help me exercise my skill. Too often I get caught up in a daily to-do list that I forget about my love for written articulation of thought. Here's hoping that this will be a healthy forum for the expression of thoughts and ideas not yet disclosed to society. (What on Earth did that last sentence mean? I don't know, but it sounds quite intelligent. ;D)

Letz do dis thaaang.