StatCounter

New Year's Resolutions





With 2012 coming to a close, I reviewed the list prepared in 2011 and compared it to the events that occurred over the past year. Surprisingly, I achieved a lot of my goals.

Kiss - Keep it Simple, Schmuck Hit 15,000 Readers!! WooHoo!








Reality Bites

This is what happens when you eat cookies 1 year past the expiration date while adding peanut butter to disguise the taste. Peanut butter which was sabotaged by the inclusion of lemon juice. Go figure.

INFOMERCIAL TIME





Hey - not everything in life is free. Someone has to pay for the donuts. 

And You Wonder Why I'm Not A Happy Camper???







Two months after Hurricane Sandy, an electrician arrived at my house to make repairs. First off, forget about getting anyone sooner than that! Business is a-booming due to the destructive force of that hurricane, even in my small neck of the woods. Which was reflected the past two weeks or so when I was stood up by 4 different electrical contracting companies. I won't even go into the licensed and insured construction contractors who fail to show up as well!

Remembrance of Things Past




“Remembrance of Things Past”
by Maura Stone


I read somewhere that certain people are magnets for ghosts and ghostly events. That’s true; I know firsthand.

Welcome to the Snake-Pit





Mom always said that if you're thrown in a snake-pit, you'll find out how sane you are. Well, she said something to that effect. She referred to a movie, The Snake-Pit, where a woman finds herself in an insane asylum, not knowing why or how she got there.

My mother had very pithy sayings with some very strange tastes. The only book she loved was "Dry Guillotine." I searched high and low for that book at least a decade. When I found and read it, a book about Devil's Island penal colony off La Rochelle, France, it made me wonder even more about my mother.

It's Only Facebook/Twitter



While making my bed this morning, I came across a big chip of plastic on my sheets. What is it? ran through my mind. What's THAT doing in my bed? Scratching my head, I couldn't even imagine anything I own which resembles that piece of plastic. Could it be from the washing machine? Dryer? Vibrator? 

My Two Cents in Face of the End of the Mayan Calendar - UPDATE




When I was a little girl, my parents taught me a family joke, a mix of yiddish and English:


A lady goes into a butcher shop. On the top of the counter was a row of chickens. She picks one up and sniffs it under the fligl (wing), the polka (thigh) and then stuffs her nose in the cavity. Disgusted, she yells to the butcher, "Hey, this chicken stinks!"

He glares at her, "Hey lady, can you pass such a test?"


Really, Now: What the Fuck is Dawson's Creek & Who is James Van Der Beek?




Now I know I live in a parallel universe for I never saw Dawson's Creek. I never even HEARD of Dawson's Creek. Or of this actor, James Van Der Beek. Only through heavy hitting ads for this newish tv show, "Don't Trust the B in Apartment 23," which cracks me up because I don't watch tv, haven't for over 6 years, just internet tv. The fact that I'm bombarded for ads of a tv show on internet tv astounds me. Even more so because this torrential flood of internet tv ads pushing "Don't Trust the B" tv show extols James Van Der Beek from Dawson's Creek.

A Little Interlude Between Storms

One of the worst phrases people regret hearing from me is, "Let me get you up to speed."

There's a collective groan for it means they're going to be subjected to a few hours of storytelling to get to understand:

(1) Why I was homeless when I returned from India;

(2) How I caught cradle cap; and

(3) Why I was accused of burying a guy's body in the middle of the lake.


The One Who Got Away - Conclusion

Where we left off from "The One Who Got Away - Part Deux" in the previous post:





At the ripe age of 20, Maura met the love of her life after returning from studying in France. 10 months later, she got a job in NYC and moved in with him in a tiny apartment. After one year, she accidentally found his Marriage Certificate which he purposely left in his favorite jacket for a month. Heartbroken, she threw him out. Meanwhile, the company Lothario, Kerry, kept stopping by her desk to chat. Immune to his charms, Maura ignored him. Until he asked her out. 
They dated under a cloak of secrecy because company policy forbade romantic fraternization. When Kerry proposed and Maura declined, he bragged to colleagues that he bedded her. She was reprimanded by the CEO and he, in turn, was sent off to an Australian subsidiary as punishment. After three months, he returned to NYC, quit his job and stuck around trying to get her back. Thwarted, he left America for good.



The One Who Got Away - Part Deux

Where we left off from "The One Who Got Away" in the previous post:





At the ripe age of 20, Maura met the love of her life after returning from studying in France. 10 months later, she got a job in NYC and moved in with him in a tiny apartment. After one year, she accidentally found his Marriage Certificate which he purposely left in his favorite jacket for a month. Heartbroken, she threw him out. Meanwhile, the company Lothario, Kerry, kept stopping by her desk to chat. Immune to his charms, Maura ignored him. Until that fateful day...

The One Who Got Away





Up until her death, my mother insisted that Kerry was the love of my life, the one who got away scot-free, the ship that left the port without me. No matter how many times I said to her, "Mom, what're you talking about? I didn't even like him!" she shot her damn Mona Lisa smile and shook her head wisely.

Maybe I Grew Up After All



Craziness is going down the same road over and over expecting a different result each time. So, within that context I must be crazy. Because I recognize with my now ex-beau that indeed I ran down the same road.

Could It Possibly Be That I'm Growing Up?




Someone told me the UPS code for "Adult" is "A" for signing authority.
"You mean to tell me it's not G?"
"What's a G?" asked that person.
"Grown-up."



At the Bake House in Kauneonga Lake, NY




This ol' chestnut was published August 2012 in The Last Goddess Magazine, now defunct:



“The 7-Grain Challenge”
by Maura Stone


The Bake House at Kauneonga Lake, New York

What's Wrong with Being a Recluse?

After spending three hours at the garage the other morning, the owner came up to me. "We're still waiting for the part to be delivered. Let me drive you home and we'll pick you up before closing."

That was a kind gesture. And a way to save the proprietor's marriage. For his wife worked the front desk and my constant babble in addition to a phone argument with an acquaintance drove her mad.

R I P Pip




My close friend, Michelle, possesses a very large heart. A year ago, she found this stray kitten, took her in and named her, "Pip."

December Seasonal Holiday Sentiment

With the upcoming holiday season, I recall an office tradition I reluctantly took part in: Secret Santa. The guidelines were simple: no gag gifts and $20 of value. The person who I drew (we pulled slips of paper from a bag) was easy enough as he loved fine wine. When the time came, the entire department assembled in the conference room to exchange gifts.

Verizon - It's 10 Years Now & I Never Came Back - Watch out AT&T & TIME-WARNER CABLE!




Here we go again with Time-Warner Cable!!

My Kid Brother




Today would've been my brother's 56th birthday. He died on March 15, 2011. I wrote this short story a few months' after.




Happy Thanksgiving to a Wackadoodle

At first, I thought the wackadoodle was a lot of fun until it set in that that non-stop manic energy and strangled laughter were indicators of insanity. She literally drove me crazy and didn't understand my subtle ways of ending the friendship. It was an out and out confrontation two years ago. I hoped and prayed she'd disappear. But not my luck.

The Final Chapter of Zippo & Monkey Boy - The End of an Era

To those dear readers who have been following my blog, I wrote about Zippo and Monkey Boy several times. This is the final chapter.

So Here's To You, FedEx Guy!


Two days ago, a nice man came and cut down the rest of the tree from the shed. In good time too! I made 25 trips toting 150lb logs in the wheelbarrow to the road. My gluteus maximum lifted half a foot and my biceps are now huge. The following day it snowed. So the timing worked out.

Spin

You gotta love it. It drives newspaper sales, hell, online paper clicks skywards. How appropriate that after a contentious Presidential election the shit hits the fan!

Shit People Say






As our lives return to normalcy or a mere façade of what poses as normal, after the recent turmoil of a Presidential election combined with a devastating storm, I want to impart a few laughs. Don't know about you, I really need one!

I'm LIVID ABOUT THIS - Best Buy & Their Bait & Switch Game on Me Ref iPhones!




Being a klutz, I'm rather proud I didn't destroy my iPhone during the massive clean up in the wake of Hurricane Sandy. I kept it tucked in my pocket just in case I maim myself hauling 60 to 150 foot–long tree limbs uphill 1/2 an acre to the road while dodging upright trees where the branches invariably got entangled.

Zombie America - America Has Spoken



I'll always associate the disaster of Hurricane Sandy with the American election while waiting for the nor'easter to make the picture complete. Sorry, kids, but if you don't like what I write, move on to another blog. Better yet, don't buy my books - you may THINK! And laugh. I do poke fingers at EVERYONE. No one's unscathed. Yet, I digress...

DAY 7 - AFTERMATH OF HURRICANE SANDY



To preface, I once dated a guy named Sandy, a true shithead. Quite soon in our relationship he demonstrated his rage and violence and I barely escaped intact. In this vein, the hurricane was aptly named, a real motherfucking veritable disaster leaving quite an aftermath.

Reflections from a Victim of Hurricane Sandy


Hurricane Sandy's turning into quite the learning experience. By reviewing the contents of my backpack where I stuffed the most important things I can't do without, I realized my first priority's writing, my second's skin care.

Waiting for the Other Shoe to Drop

As some dear readers know by now, I suffer from a rare neurological deafness, SSNHL. When this occurred on 2/17/11, the drs gave me steroids, the only known medication that could restore my hearing. It didn't do shit for restoring my hearing. Instead, the steroids nearly killed me.

Divulgence of Confidences

This was one of my last columns before the e-magazine where I was Editor was yanked offline. A fine example of a mellower piece:





The Taxidermied Rodent Speaketh
Musings and rantings from the nearly dead

It's Not Fun Being an "R"

For the past year or so, I brooded over a situation the few times I was confronted by it, and after tonight, feel compelled to post this blog. Back then, while attending an anti-fracking rally, I met a woman in a neighboring community. At any rate, this woman voiced her opinion about something political. In return, I did as well.

WRONG MOVE.

Get the Fuck Away from Me, Even AFTER I'm Dead!

A woman in my town recently committed suicide, someone who I didn't know very well. Once her death was announced, overnight EVERYONE in town became her best friend. Notice they had to wait until after she was dead?

The Beautiful Scam of Bogus Book Reviews

I've been digging up the articles and columns I wrote for an e-magazine and in the process of publishing them here on my blog. To my dismay, I found out that not only was my work plagiarized, others have taken credit. This reminds me of a situation I found myself over a decade or so ago when people discussed the "Audrey Hepburn poem."

How I Met Dustin Hamman, One of the Most Talented Musicians Out There

Over a year or so ago, I met this guy at an anti-fracking rally. A much younger guy, very endearing, who looked like he walked out of a two-dimensional lithograph. He wore an old vintage suit circa 1824 and a beat-up hat. Yet, it was his long hair and wild beard that made him stand out from everyone else. Besides his piercing blue eyes.

"It's True What They Say About Jews"



I wrote this article on July 2, 2012 which was subsequently published in The Last Goddess Magazine. Talk about sensation! Yes, I was plagiarized and quoted globally!




Free Meals Have Strings Attached

Upon my entrance in a local tavern around two years ago, a guy bellowed to his friends, "This is the woman I told you guys about! You know, that wild date I had last year?"

Second Worst Vacation

For some reason, Mexico and I don't agree. I always got sick when I visited Mexico. Then again, I got sick when I visited Spain, Brazil, Portugal and Colombia (I lived there for a short period of time).

Leprosy is Not Contagious



Several times in my life I've been a social leper. It's quite funny, actually. In retrospect.

Merrill Lynch -> Do You REALLY Need $188 THAT MUCH???

I spent the majority of the day today dealing with Merrill Lynch. All I wanted to do was close down a trust account which I had since 2002 when my mother died. There's only a paltry $188 of cash and a miniscule CMO they wouldn't let me sell a decade earlier. Why? I don't recall.

I Love a Foggy Morning

I love a foggy morning. Actually a very foggy early morning. It triggers something deep inside me, like memories of how, at 16, I lived in France alone for the first time.



I Don't Have to Leave Home...

I'm back to kvetching again. The big joke running here is that I never have to leave home for drama to park itself on my doorstep. I guess the reclusive almost totally deaf author bit really piques people's curiosity, accounting for strange visits. I never have to go online to pick up men - they seem to materialize in front of my door without any effort whatsoever on my part. Literally.

My Upfront & Personal Close Encounter {Yes, that UFO Story}


At the Kitchen Table

I did a reading this past spring in a magnificent flower, fruit and vegetable garden. The topic was, "At the Kitchen Table" and the goal was to keep it short enough without boring the audience to death. Having no volume control, I believe I deafened them in the process as well.

Now For Something Political....

I purposely kept one foot out of mentioning politics or not revealing my true political leanings fearing that people won't purchase my books because they didn't like my political point of view.

Fuck it. I get sales, but really not the volume that substantiates a living. I came to the conclusion that even though I use "Fuck," "Shit," "Motherfucker," people still deem my books intellectual. Shit, one fan told me she had to resort to the dictionary while reading Five-Star FLEECING. Many others complained that they had to think while they read it. That's a complaint??? Which makes me wonder about the American educational system and ability to think. If Men, eDating and Mat*****ion is deemed intellectual... well, let's say the standard for American intelligent thought lies more in the success of Fifty Shades of Shit.

That's why, when I received the following cartoons from overseas, I couldn't refrain from posting. Rarely does American media have the intellect or balls to say, "The Emperor is Nekkid!"



From England . . . . . Interesting that the British easily see what our News Media seems blind to:

Pillow Talk

My girlfriends and I love talking about our men du jour. Men, the bad thing about women is they disclose ALL. You really don't want to know what we say. You really don't want to know. You may cringe.

My Worst Vacation

No blog's complete without a vacation post. Especially a miserable vacation! I had one of the worst in my entire life around five years ago with my friend, Casey.

Anticipating Winter without Insulation


I live in a rickety 100 year old plywood cottage tilting 30 degrees on peg legs. Around 20 years ago, my sister 'winterized' it, meaning someone blew something, perhaps halvah or lint, between the plywood walls and attic. She also invested in a propane gas heater that fills one side of the living room wall. For four years she lived there with two toddlers before she moved to an even colder place in Vermont.

Moving Day


Moving Day – A Quick and Dirty Review of Movers and all the Elements

Moving Van
Moving Day – A Review of Movers and all the Elements

The Probability of Getting Laid

I found that decision tree analysis was the most effective tool in determining the probability of getting laid again by a certain guy. Actually, I referred to him in an earlier post as "Monkey Boy."

Monkey Boy was a mercurial little monster. At that time, I had around 3 different lovers scattered around NYC and Astoria. And Monkey Boy tucked away upstate New York for those occasional weekend romps. Yes, I was a busy little bee. I was unusually attracted to him. Unusually in that nothing about the guy appealed to me. Except the sex. Even that came about in a convoluted way.

I met Monkey Boy through his friend, my very first boyfriend, Zippo.

This Magic Moment

One of my really close buds, Mich, shlepped up here a few Saturdays ago to spend the day with me.

Apolitical Aside

I apologize for being repetitive here for the frequent readers. To the new readers of this blog, I'm neurologically deaf meaning the sounds I hear tend to resemble Klingons singing their triumph over slaying the kibbles - distorted through a wad of cotton. As a result, I don't watch tv or listen to radio. Hell, I can't tolerate any sound whatsoever. In fact, I'm an audible mess.

In homage to my dear friend, Lucy Fishman 9/11/01

Written in 2012:


On 9-11, I was supposed to interview in a company in the WTC. It was a loosey-goosey kind of affair since I knew the principals involved. Instead, it being a beautiful day, I stayed upstate and drove to the hardware store where I heard the news.

Whiny, Puling Boy-Men

What happened to the wonderful men of yesteryear? Did they die off? Or did they get so self-absorbed in becoming too much in touch with their inner child they devolved?

WTF is wrong with men today? Why won't they grow up and grow a pair?

The Beauty of Being Underestimated

Possessing the face of the girl next door, a high pitched voice and a nice smile, I fall within the parameters of being underestimated. Or perhaps my self-denigrating sense of humor culled to perfection. Or my ability to let 99% of the shit around me roll off my back and not pass judgment. Until I break. Whatever it is, it never ceases to amaze me that people continually underestimate me, my intelligence and ability to do things.

Crazy Ass Story about Water... Water? WTF?

Around 8 years ago or so I contacted Helen Marshall, Queens County Borough President. The poor woman already had encounters from me years earlier when I fought against urban sprawl in Astoria. And won. That was a story in and of itself.

Fuck Yeah, I'm Back from Vacation Full of Piss and Vinegar about... Crazy People & UPDATE!



I’ve a huge tolerance for aberrant behavior. It must be, otherwise I wouldn’t be able to stomach the people or situations into which I chronically fall. Like a moth to a flame, I gravitate towards people who drop outside the bell curve of normal.

Never Thought of This!

A fan of my blog and books shot me an email this weekend: Are you all right? You haven't posted in your blog for a few days.

Why is amazon.com Cockblocking Reviews of my Books: The Larger They Are, the Harder They Fall

I've been gnashing my teeth over this one: over the past 8 months, readers have contacted me letting me know how much they enjoy my first novel, Five-Star FLEECING. I begged them to put their positive comments on the site where they purchased it, namely, amazon.com. Not much ensued.

Obama's True Birth Certificate? Conspiracy Theory


My friend sent me the following email. I love conspiracy theories as much as anyone else. So, this entire Obama birth certificate controversy warms the cockles of my soul. Imagine the books and films this'll create for the upcoming decade or MORE! Manchurian Candidate + Illuminati with a little Communism tossed in for effect. Perhaps one with a space alien.

Integrity's Overrated {Why I'm an Asshole}

Integrity's way overrated. It definitely doesn't pay the mortgage. And, it leaves you penniless, in bad health.

Blame it on the Baby Boomers Wa Wa Wa Wa

I love reading articles about my unremarkable my generation, The Baby Boomers. About how we fucked everything up for the following generations. How we didn't produce a brilliant gleaming light of intellectualism and cure cancer, extend longevity, heal the economy and, basically, how corrupt we are.

Wa wa wa wa. Wail away.

The Stone Tradition: Hold a Grudge to the Very End

Besides a quirky deafness, I've a quirky memory. An even quirkier way of holding onto things for a long time, drop them for decades because I forgot all about them and pick them right back up again when something stirs the tendrils of my mind. I guess that's called, "revisiting an issue" or "having an epiphany." I think it's because at that moment there's nothing better to do. Or focusing on a dead topic will get me through whatever dire circumstances await me that I can't deal with.

In Homage to Another Anniversary of the '69 Woodstock Music Festival

It was summer of 1969 and that Thursday night it took my father nearly 6 hours to drive up to the house located in the town of Bethel as opposed to the 2 1/2 hours from suburban NY.

"You wouldn't believe the traffic!" he said. 

Mom said, "What's going on? We heard helicopters all day and 17B's flooded with cars."

Us kids knew better. There was a rock concert going on at Max Yasgur's farm up the street, a few miles away.

That summer was a definitive time for me. Bittersweet, in retrospect. And here's the short story I wrote and performed in front of a live audience in January 2012:


"Summer in White Lake"
by Maura Stone


Total Ado About Nothing or the Gasmen Cometh and Cometh

I'm minding my business, writing, when some guy pops into my peripheral vision. I shot up into the air from the chaise lounge, almost catapulting my laptop into a low orbit around the planet. In the process, I pulled my back out some more.

My Reading Tonite - Cancelled due to Bad Back


I participated with a local story-telling group where we write and perform our short stories in front of live audiences in different venues throughout western New York State.

This venue requested that we write stories from our pet's point of view. Sadly, due to my bad back, I'm unable to perform this story. Instead, I'll leave it up to your imagination.

How can Stores be so Fucking Arrogant in a BAD Economy?


The last time I read a newspaper, unemployment hit a new high record, stores are closing down, homes repossessed. Now, more than ever, I thank the people who work in stores for forcing me to save my money, what little I do have.

If It's Posted Online, It Must be True!


  1. 16 people named Maura Stone in the US | WhitePages

    names.whitepages.com/Maura/Stone
    Find Maura Stone on WhitePages. There are 6 people named Maura Stone in places like New York; New Mexico; North Carolina; Illinois.

It's all in the Delivery

My girlfriend visited this past weekend. In the midst of a long, drawn out story I waited weeks to tell her, she interrupted, "You've the ability to make the most mundane things interesting."

The Dubious Honor of Reviewing a Few Pages - WITH PS UPDATE

I've met lots of fascinating people on twitter. For the most part, they're really cool. Then, you got others...

At the Kitchen Table, a Live Reading

AT THE KITCHEN TABLE
By Maura Stone




READ IN FRONT OF A LIVE AUDIENCE SATURDAY, JULY 21, 2012 as part of a local community event

Starbucks & Apple - the Epitome of... of... of... of...

I'm not a great fan of Starbucks. I think their coffee sucks. Their beans are burnt to crap and that's why you need 14 gallons of sugar to make one cup palatable. WTF do I know? I lived in Colombia where coffee tastes of chocolate, fresh and freshly brewed every morning by maids. Since then, I've become a coffee elitist bitch and rarely is my cultivated palate satisfied.

Why do they say "Whore" when you won't have sex with them? Does it even matter?

The most rewarding feeling I ever had was when someone told me gossip about someone who did me wrong, not knowing my involvement, of sorts.

What the Fuck's Wrong with People Nowadays?

It's a recurrent theme in my blog posts to those of you repeat readers, but, honestly, what the fuck's wrong with people nowadays? This time my rant's focused on some recent fucked up activity. Now, the guy I'm writing about reads my blog, something I just found out. I know there's going to be considerable backlash as to this posting.

For a Woman Who Doesn't Get Around, I Get Around

For a woman who doesn't get around, I get around. I'm mostly home-bound because of my weirdo neurological deafness. Even so, I'm like a magnet and attract countless men, situations and drama without ever leaving my deck.

I'm in a Shitty Mood

I'm in a shitty mood. It's two days since I returned from NYC and still can't get up to par. For the noise really does kill me. I'm sick and tired trying to describe what I have to the same fucking people. Repeatedly. They just don't get it; they just don't want to get it. And that's the crux of the story. Fucking insensitive asswipes.

Almost a Full Circle - The Total Story



I had an interesting lunch yesterday which I'm still digesting in several ways. I try to lump all the things I need to do in one trip to make the most of my time the rare venture into NYC. The purpose of this trip was to see my dear friend as well as my tattoo artist who only comes to NY three times a year. Luckily, we both scheduled tattoos back to back.

I'm Tired of Arguing. I'll Blog Instead. TOPIC: NYSEG





December 2011 I phoned NYSEG, my electricity company, and said, "Listen, I have personal electrical lines from the main power outlet to my house, 40 feet away. Right now, due to the snow, there're tree branches lying on top of the three lines. What should I do?"