#?; My Life in the Big Banana. March 24, 2011.

It has been such a long time. How are you old friend? You look old. ... Although, it could just be the lighting ... there, sit by the candle light ... AH. There's my favorite face.

(what was that?)

So last time we spoke, I don't really remember what we talked about, but I do know that since then, winter vacation has passed and spring vacation. Here's what I've learned. When I went home to Orange County for the winter, I had the entire month planned before I even boarded the plane in New York. BAD IDEA. I had literally no time for me and came back to NYC cranky and in need of another month. Was it there? Nope. This time, I went home for my week of spracation (spring + vacation = spracation), I had nothing planned. I let God direct the steps of my spracation, and it was wonderful. I had hardly any real control over anything (especially since I don't have car, so I can't come and go when I please). It was so nice to wake up and have nothing to rush to. I took out my bible and read -- something I haven't done in quite some time because life NYC is so crazy. ("Why Raji?" I just heard you ask ... it's like Dora the Explora (I know that's not how you spell it). I say something and pause, then you talk. Swiper, no swipping!!). Back to why NYC is so crazy:

Acting training is unlike any other major for the following reasons: you are the homework; you are the textbook; you are the class lessons and instructions. So, needless (or maybe I need to say this) to say, it gets very exhausting and intense. When you have a bad acting class, it's not because you didn't stay up late enough cracking the books - it's personal. It's you. So many people do not understand that. "Oh, he's just an actor. He's not really doing something," people say. And in that moment I want to take a citrusy fruit and shove it on their canker sours so badly. Because to live through truly rich emotional life eight times a week, three hours per time, (and truly live through it) takes more energy and determination than sitting at a desk for forty to fifty hours per week -- and I'm not knocking the desk jobs -- totally needed. I'm just saying, it's not like studying biology. You're biology teacher in the white coat never says, "WHY DIDN'T YOU MAKE THIS CHOICE WHEN DISSECTING THE FROG?! UGH! I THOUGHT 'WHAT THE F*** IS HE DOING?!'" -- and if the teacher does say that, tell him/her to inquire about teaching acting. Plain and simple: it's hard.

Right before spracation, my teacher says to me during a scene: "This, what you're doing, is schmacting. It's bad acting." And then the teacher mocked the way I said a line. It killed me. Verge of tears. Lump in throat. Eyes watering. Don't cry. Don't cry. Please, Raji, not here. Don't cry, I'm thinking to myself. The teacher proceeded to give me notes on how to fix my problems when I'm standing there in just boxer briefs. The scene required me to change clothes... and that is when I get notes. I'm thinking CAN'T YOU WAIT TIL I PUT ON PANTS? I was embarrassed to the absolute core of myself -- which was visible to the entire company.

The next day, I'm walking down Park Avenue on the Upper East Side and who do I run into but Tom Hanks. I say, "Have you any advice for an acting student?" He says (without skipping a beat), "Break down the walls of your own self-conscious so you'll never be embarrassed." OKAY! He says goodbye and walks off. I couldn't believe it. I was ready to try this acting thing again. That night, I'm sitting at dinner and an actress from one of my favorite Broadway shows was in the restaurant -- she and I had a conversation for nearly fifteen minutes; she hugged me and encouraged me to work hard. That night, I came home to write her a letter of gratitude. When I returned from my spracation, I found a note in my mailbox from her. At the end of the letter, she wrote: "Be kind to yourself." That is so hard for me. I never think of that as a necessary thing -- it's always be kind to others. I never think of being kind to myself ... it's my new thing:

You: "Oh! Raji, are those new sunglasses?"

Me: "Yes. I'm being kind to myself!"

You: "I don't think that's what the actress meant..."

Me: "Oh, shut up. You're just a jealous poop."

I came back to acting for the next week, and again, it was horrible. Then I went home for a week. And that week was most definitely the best week of my life. So refreshing. Necessary. Can't wait for summer. It's like spring break is always like a little summer teaser.

I came back ready to work; I gave it all over to God and said, "Give me what I need." I approached the work with a new attitude ... and the notes from that class were extremely positive. I think I found the answer. I have to ask myself, "For whom are you really doing the work?"

45 days and counting to summer break. summer + break = sreak? no... suak? no... sumeak? no... summer + vacation = sumation? isn't that already a word? sumcation? sounds like a bad math concept ... whatever. You know what I mean!