I enjoyed Julie and Julia. I enjoyed her blog during the time, up to the movie making a big splash. I enjoyed the movie. I was looking forward to this book, which to be honest, I couldn't even finish. This book was easily the most self-indulgent stuff I've read in a while. Self-obsessed, self-pitying, poor little her. Someplace in-between self-indulgent uncomfortable wet dreams over a emotionally unavailable man with a weak chin, she does some butchering. Not enough for my tastes. Perhaps the gristle she should have cut was the trite crap about scarves and sex with strangers.