Ariana Brookes Brookes is a third-year English student who knows that Diet Coke is the drink of champions. E-mail her at abrookes@ucla.edu. Click Here for more articles by Ariana Brookes

UCLA is like a science experiment in which you discover that oil and water just don’t mix. On one hand, UCLA is located in L.A., a city of excess and wealth. On the other, UCLA is definitely known for its laid-back attitude toward life.



That said, life at UCLA can be a little confusing for those not used to the jeans and T-shirt lifestyle. While one would expect UCLA to live up to its ritzy surroundings, in truth, UCLA is about as ritzy as the local 7-Eleven. The following is a fictional account of what can happen when you come to UCLA refusing to take that much needed “chill pill.”

8 a.m.: It’s 8 in the morning and she’s already up. Her $10 Kmart alarm clock is blaring away and the birds haven’t even started singing yet! I’d give my diamond tennis bracelet to hear the sweet voice of Marie right now. (Marie is my maid – my lovely, beautiful, no-need-for-an-alarm-clock Marie.)

If that girl (and by “that girl” I mean my new roommate) doesn’t shut that alarm off soon, I’ll see her in court. (My daddy is a litigator who gets $500 an hour just to argue with people ... kind of like Cher’s dad in “Clueless.”)

10:30 a.m.: I don’t think I’m down with this “group bathroom down the hall” deal. I told daddy that I wanted one of those suites, but no, I get stuck in a double in Sproul Hall. I have to wear flip-flops in the shower and blow-dry my hair in front of other girls. What is that about? On top of everything, I have to walk down the hall in my robe for the whole world to see. No one sees me looking anything less than my best, and I swear on everything holy that if a hot guy sees me looking like this, I will sue the school!

11:30 a.m.: Oh no, oh no, oh no! I think I’m sweating! It’s so hot, so very hot, and I’m wearing my brand new Prada silk sleeveless blouse! I think I might die. How can I possibly be expected to walk all the way to campus everyday? By the time I make it to Dodd Hall, my hair will be flat, my makeup will be dripping off my face, and God forbid I should smell like sweat! Maybe if my dad donated some more money to the school, they’d consider putting in some sort of electronic walkway like the ones they have at the airport?

And look at these other girls walking down the street, in public, wearing shorts and T-shirts. My God, have they no shame!

1 p.m.: I cannot believe the men in this school. I’m sitting in lecture waiting for class to begin and this guy asks me out. OK, he was kind of cute, in that “I shop at Gap kind of way,” but come on! He actually asked me if I’d like to go see a movie with him some time. A movie? Maybe I’d go to dinner at Spago, if he was lucky, but a $6 movie? Is he crazy? Does he actually think that I’d grace him with my presence for $6? Doesn’t anyone at this school have any grooming?

I was offered no personal attention during that 500-person history lecture, and I always get personal attention. And God only knows what my TA was wearing. I’m sorry, but tight denim shorts are just not allowed on men, ever.

  Illustration by RODERICK ROXAS/Daily Bruin 4 p.m.: I actually met a girl this afternoon who lives in the same universe as I do. She was standing in line in Ackerman Union waiting to buy some sushi from the Japanese place, when I spotted her cute Chloe top and knew we could be friends. It turns out she’s from North County San Diego like me! What a relief to know that this school isn’t just full of a bunch of people who have never been to a fashion show in Paris. She told me that it’s supposed to be pretty wild tonight over at the frats, and that there are even some fraternities where having money is common! Fabulous. I love soirees. So, she’ll meet me in front of Sproul Hall at 9 p.m.

6:30 p.m.: Ahhhh! This is what they call food? They tell me that UCLA dorm food is rated as one of the top in the nation, but come on! If this is considered good, what must they be eating at other schools? It looks like it will be salad every night for me. I did hear that they have sushi for lunch every Monday, but what am I supposed to do for the rest of the week?

It was bad enough that I had to eat lunch in a cafeteria in high school, but now they expect me to eat in one three times a day. I better call daddy and have him send up a care package or some money. Maybe I’ll just eat out every night. I can always take a cab down to the village and eat at Eurochow.

10:30 p.m.: I’m at the frats and there’s nothing to drink but beer. Beer! Has it really come to this? It’s not even good beer, and I have to fight just to get it. What happened to cocktails, good old-fashioned alcohol or maybe a nice, aged white wine? And I’ve had to hold onto my purse all night so it won’t get stolen.

There isn’t even any food. If this were my party, there would be waiters walking around with mini crab cakes. Instead, I’m forced to tumble down to In-N-Out if I get hungry. Why, God, why?!?

12:30 a.m.: As if I hadn’t dealt with enough already, I broke my Manolo Blahnick shoes walking back to the dorms. I can’t believe it, a $400 pair of shoes down the toilet. It’s terrible how those sidewalks near the dorms are so full of cracks. That’s why I fell – it was one of those horrible sidewalk cracks. It had absolutely nothing to do with the fact that I was a bit tipsy – nothing at all.

I also spilled my Diet Coke all over the floor at In-N-Out, right in front of a certain celebrity whom I will not name. I’m so tired right now that I can barely think, let alone write, but I know that if I don’t write this down in my journal I will regret it later.

I’ll need this to use as evidence when I explain to dad why I need to go to Europe during winter break. There’s only so much a girl can handle!

And now off to bed. I have class at noon (how are they allowed to hold classes that early in the morning?), and I’m sure my charming roommate’s alarm clock will be going off in a matter of hours. Ta-ta.