When I moved to Los Angeles eight years ago today, a movie ticket at the Arclight was a mere $11.50, the Target in West Hollywood had yet to drain the wallets of countless singletons looking for a deal on laundry detergent, and the 101/405 Freeway interchange in Sherman Oaks was under construction, making the over-the-hill commute a daily pain in the ass for anyone with a job in the Valley. When I moved to Los Angeles eight years ago today, I slept on an Aero Bed on the floor of several apartments, my DVD library consisted of 20 movies, I listened to my pop compilations (gulp) on a Discman , and the thought of housesitting in the hills and driving the boss's Lexus for three months seemed like something straight out of an 80s movie starring James Spader or Michael J. Fox. If I were to dig up old pictures of myself from the summer of 2002 ( actual photographs, mind you; I didn't own a digicam until the following Christmas ), I would see a fresh-faced Boston University grad, un