July 06, 2010
My birthday today, and no one knew and no events today, just how I like it, as any kind of do ends up being a clusterfuck of the abettors and family quislings. Though, for the first time, my daughter did leave a phone message and has sent a card and present, as she was away last week. This marks the first time in recent memory she has done this, so maybe the sickos are now permitting more daughter contact. She also came through on Father's Day in early June, another recent first, and perhaps some sign there will be more permitted contact.
A day of strawberry picking in the sunshine, no more of the overcast games with hints of sun, and then it retreating once I was prepped with sun block lotion. The perps have a huge interest in the sunlight and Vitamin D reaction and uptake, and playing with sun block and then not needing it is one of their games. Another was to fuck me into covering my arms, but a forced "forget" in applying sun block lotion to my face, giving me a slight red tone for a day.
Other bullshit today was having me stop picking a row, and then going to the opposite end of the field and then pick in the opposite direction. Some kind of red color games were going down, as I lost my usual ability to distinguish red tones in the shade of the green leaves, and constantly had to bring the berries into full sunlight to see if they were red enough. Then I restarted my former row, and picked it with an oncoming picker from the opposite direction. Then I finished it, and then started a new row, and was then moved to another because of a sudden picker departure, and no doubt someone will pick the row that I started. They closed down picking early at 1710h, which was curious, as they only intended to go to 1730h anyway. The story was that it was too hot, but it was comfortably warm, and besides, the Mexicans can take a whole lot more heat that there was today.
Other bullshit to stir me up was the senior Punjabi woman making remarks that "this guy: (I was in the next row), was a slow picker. She was speaking to the lead Mexican, their translator, who also pulled his own stunt later in the day. He came up to me to show me three strawberries, all rejects, that were apparently in my just-finished carrier full of pint boxes. I said I doubted that they were, but that I would take his word for it, but that they were the kind of berries I don't pick. Two were a light orange color, and I know I did not pick them, and the other was a bruised deep ruby red berry. I check them all in my hand immediately after picking and before I put them in my pint boxes in the carrier tray. It seemed like total BS to me, and an excuse to show me some red color range in his hand, rather than mine. Sometimes he comes around and shows us reject berries, and does this for everyone. And just for today, for my birthday, he follows his involvement in the above slandering confab stunt with this individualized "see this strawberry red range in my hand" stunt, claiming that I picked them. And a Happy Fuckover to you buddy, and I wish that I had gone a few more rounds of denying they were my berries, and go and check the ones that I had picked since to see if there was any like it.
I got this same faux quality adherence rebuke when I started picking carrots last week. I was the new one on the crew of six or so, and had determined already they they weren't picking deformed carrots, and kept all the deformed ones out of my bunches. The first time they take my picked carrot bunches to the wash station they claimed I had picked a deformed carrot. I also saw that they hadn't really taken the deemed offending bunch from my pickings, and then they blew me off saying this was advice for everyone. Right; I am the only new carrot picker, the rest of them have being doing it for over 20 years, and then they attempt to lay on this quality standards violation on me until I told them flat out that I had not picked a deformed carrot, as I had known this from the outset and could see it from the leavings on the field. I went through this same bullshit with the potato picking, getting rebuked for picking the too-smalls, too green, the sliced ones etc. when I was highly cognizant of what had to be picked. Then they back off for a while, and start up again.
The senior Punjab woman isn't too mobile in the course of strawberry picking, as she gets others to bring her empty carriers and take the full ones away. I suppose she doesn't count the fetch-it time of others into her own picking time. As far as I know, I am doing a good job, and the strawberries that I have picked get verbal complements, and the farm owner's son said I am highly thought of by everyone. So WTF; two more "dump on me" slanderings, timed for my birthday, but to keep me riled up as one can tell.
Off to bed for a 0430h get up, and onto another day of work. The sickos kept me up all last night, estending their Monday abuses into Tuesday. I didn't feel any the worse for having so little sleep. Truly amazing what the perps can do to someone.
Tuesday, July 06, 2010
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4 comments:
Yeah, they do slandering, as you calling, along with other info gained from surveillance. It's a constant tactic here. Suppose it's a demoralizing as well as provocation tactic. They're probably doing it to you because you are spending so much time out in the fields, that they can't get to you with their usual remote intrusions. Hence, they utilize in-person harassment to compensate and to "fill the gaps". I think I'd rather have the levitation and masers over the assholes dropping slander mixed with surveillance info.
The perps seem to call off the gangstalking temporarily sometimes. Like, I'm on my walk, and all of a sudden, the traffic and people on the street just cease for about a minute. After a period of time, it's back to the usual nonsense. They like to do what they call "nosepicking", where they make my nose run on the right side. Also, I missed my sweetheart at work today, coming in later, so they emo-trashed me by forcing me to cry out of the right eye while I was sitting there.
And earlier, they had a dude with a stroller put on the crazy act, being all loud and rambunctious, making all kinds of laughing, whistling, and "hee-haw" jackass noises. This time, the perps weren't even trying to disguise the harassment in a conversation. This guy was standing outside the pharmacy, laughing his full head off, loud as he could do it, like he was trying to provoke a fight. This was just outright unsubtle harassment. He reprised me 2 hours later by showing up at a convenience store. This time, it was the cell phone conversation thing, talking about "right hand lane", possibly referring to the perps forcing tears from the right eye, and also runny nose from the right nostril.
I kept replaying the "jackass" gangstalker's harassment in my head over and over again. The harassment was anchored to sleep deprivation, so I could not sleep last night.
You have to wonder how long the perps themselves would be able to take this bullshit. They put TI's through hell, and I don't think they could survive very long in our shoes.
Answer to: Yeah, they do slandering...
Normally the perps like to have me adhere to a quality level above and beyond any one else's, as they get to suggest/ask that I improve my work, say, picking quality strawberries, potatoes etc. This leaves me in a squeaky clean state (about producing quality work) after the many admonitions about my variances (or the ones planted on me). It is rare that they slander me as a result, as they have nothing to go on. Except this time, and said slanderer was also doing the "just stand there" (for no seeming rational reason) stalking later, when a number of us were walking to the other side of the field. It was strange to say the least, as I haven't had one of these before. Thanks for the comments.
Answer to: I kept replaying the...
I am sure the perps monitor themselves for any TI empathy that might arise, and switch such operatives onto other projects/victims. JUst my guess, but as they clearly manage me for minimal empathy from anyone, I suspect it also applies to operatives as well. Thanks for the comments.
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