I just ate 7/10 of an enormous jar of chocolate ice cream topping “hidden” in the second fridge at my parents’ place = how I know it’s time to go home to LA, where such things aren’t allowed in my house, because I WILL CONSUME THEM IN FULL. Barf. (I’m on a plane tomorrow … )
If only Chicago had an Earth Bar and Julia’s self control, she would be able to stay until Granny’s very last breath. Either that, or I am going to assume that Granny wasn’t as death bed sick as Julia Allison made it out to be. What would be worse?