A lot of you will be finding out Monday morning what Los Angeles has been weeping about over the weekend.
Our friend, Brittany Murphy, died suddenly.
Brittany and I were/are the same age and I met her half a dozen times in the last 5 years.
Our first meeting was on the movie set of the film “Little Black Book” which she headlined. I was sent by the tabloid I was working for to spy on the films DP, an unknown named Danny Moder who happened to be married to Julia Roberts. Well, after meeting Brittany, Danny did not get much of my attention. 
Brittany was young and vibrant and always full of life. Her drug was life and happiness and her cheerfulness spilled over to all those around her.
When I saw her again at the Sundance film festival, we had fun painting tennis shoes together and I will never forget her laugh.
It’s been a shitty year for losing some of Hollywood’s brightest stars and as they go away, it reminds me to hold those left even closer. 
There is a big party happening in the sky. Adam is spinning, Brittany is laughing, Heath is skateboarding, George is rocking, and Gordon is taking it all in.
I want to cry but I can only smile and see the little baby girl I was able to hold for just an hour a few days ago. Her bright eager eyes remind me that a decaying life will still have plentiful moments of newness in it.
I Told On You 