#?; 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!

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...