I could hardly even recognize the Winona Ryder who arrived at the Beverly Hills courtroom on Monday, two days before a jury of not-quite-her-peers found her guilty of grand theft and vandalism. Who was that overly made-up hussy, dressed to the nines in her beige outfit and matching accessories? That wasn't the Winona I fell in love with, the ghost-befriending clad-in-black proto-goth of "Beetlejuice"; the loner outcast high school girl and mass murderer of "Heathers."