After Maxine's and my Christmas dinner, we stopped at her house to pick up her dog Dutchess, and I got a chance to see how Maxine's doll collection has evolved. It no longer fits into just one room - the dolls pictured here are part of the 'spillover' into her living room. But a picture can't do justice to - can't even come close to realistically depicting - the scope of this strange collection. My mother, when she was alive, would mock my sister for buying so many dolls, but I always encouraged her obsessions and exact, mirthless passions. In fact, there's a doll wearing a blue dress that I bought for her in the picture, if you really squint.
Sigh. My sister is insane, but I can't have her committed because she is a judge.
I will never forget this Christmas, as I spent a nerve-wracking two hours in Bloomingdale's searching for gifts that my family wouldn't despise too much, and finally selected gifts for my sister, her boyfriend, my father, and Greta and her family. You know what they got me? Nothing! Oh, well. I was working on publicity recently for a book called THE ATHEIST'S GUIDE TO CHRISTMAS, as well as the atheist book by the lead singer for Bad Religion. So I guess God smote me. If only God knew that I secretly do have a hard-on for Jesus - I just never talk about it. Wait, I guess God does know that. He knows everything.
I know it may sound callous, but one day I will be standing over Maxine's coffin, like I've stood over the coffins of so many people in my life. If I can do it without anyone seeing, I will slip a doll inside. That will take care of Maxine.
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