OMG!
I am sitting here suffering from a huge food guilt attack. I’ve just downed the entire Great Harvest Bread Co. Blueberry Cream Cheese scone in one whiffle of a dinner break. Now when I am talking about cream cheese scone I do not mean a pitiful smattering of cream cheese oh so delicately massaged into the dough. I mean a chunk of the mother mass of cream cheese. I’m talking huge bites of cc in my mouth, so much of it I swear my teeth are now a glistening snow white. Oh heavenly delight of sinful naughtiness 
I am a bad bad girl. I’ve just returned from seeing “Little Black Book” with a good friend and must admit to enjoying it. Something about Brittany Murphy, she’s just so screwy…not quite all there…diabetic sweetness that I’m sure must come from a strong dosage of zoloft. She reminds me of someone…oh yes…she could be me. Something about the way she carries herself on screen. Or maybe it’s the roles that she plays…delusional women…trying to fit themselves into the world, yet always lacking. It’s all somehow very refreshing… like continuing to scratch (for pleasure) that really itchy mosquito bite that’s already an open wound.