Today was my last day of uninterrupted freedom before the chaos that is sure to ensue from starting my internship, school and work. The day got off to an unpleasant start thanks to my sleepless night and headache that was brought on by my friendly neighbors and their excellent music selection. I love waking up to "Ice Cream Paint Job" and the splatter of vomit hitting the pavement below my window.
After a splash or two of cold water, I was wide awake and ready for a day of nothingness. As I laced up my tennis shoes and pulled on my UCLA hoodie, I couldn't help but feel a little bit of excitement for my mini-adventure around campus and Westwood Village. Four miles and two hours later, I arrived back at my apartment to my cell phone ringing and "Carrie VanZandt" (now Barcello, although I just can't bring myself to make the surname switch in my cell) illuminating my screen. Carrie, who has been an LA resident for quite some time now, and a friend since birth, wanted to grab some lunch and see my new digs. So while Carrie's husband Larry and my man Michael were off at work, Carrie and I enjoyed an afternoon of pizza, making fun of frat boys, Diddy Riese and catching up.
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