12-04-2011, 1045h
That was last night, when 1.5 hours worth of tweaking an email about my SDD upgrade was saved in Yahoo, and when I went back to the Saved as Drafts, why, only part of it was there, the rest didn't save. And my annoyance was extreme as I have had this done to me before, but what was unusual was the pre-harassment noise run up, the fake water in pipes noise from the vacant N. neighbor wall, and to then catch me when I discovered the jerkaround and when screaming infuriated by it.
A very restless night as the first time on the black cot with a white sheet under me and a blue duvet cover on top. And of course the sheets move on me, somehow slipping sideways in the night, even if there was an extra 12" of hanging sheet either side. It was like sleeping on a board, the fabric was so stiff and taut, even if the perp abetting donor claimed they slept on it comfortably for months.
And as I am working for this month at a forest tre nursery, the blog frequency will be down to once a week again, much like the last working spell on the farm.
And what a week it has been, starting the job and going flat-out for 8 hours and finishing at midnight, then sleeping in to 1100h some days, depending on the disruption regimen. That is to say, it has been a week of maximum disruptions and jerkarounds, both on the job and all times. Even more negro gangstalking activity with the one negro woman I met while doing farmwork in 2008, "happening' to be there, and then "happening" to loose her ride, so me "happening" to give her a ride home for three days this past week. But someone else is going to give her a ride for the rest of the work session.
And a crew of 35 or so is putting plug stock seedlings into boxes, first after grading them on the conveyor, stacking them in neat pyramids of 10 (row of 4, then 3, 2, 1) which are conveyed to the wrapping person, having a 6" diameter of shrink wrap some 8" wide, and rolling the stacked bunch of trees together and then putting them on a turntable to then have them packed into boxes by another person. There are box making jobs as well, and we rotate stations every 1.5 hours or so. All manner of perp abetting setups there of course; heated pads and bar to press or cut the shrink wrap, the tree seedlings themselves of course, the 8' diamter 20rpm turntable 6" behind my butt when wrapping, the brown boxes with lighter brown inserted bags to contain moisture, the soil spillings down my front and on it goes.
The crew is a motley assortment of native Indians, one aforementioned negro woman and a few Asians and a half dozen Caucasians in the mix. I am given the social leper treatment for no apparent reason, nothing unusual about that given the current train of abuse that is so consistent as it is relentless. Though, every so often one breaks the mold and becomes friendly for a while, the negro woman being the first. Though she was avoidant for a day, then chatty to then be bitchy for no reason, especially when she should of been in supplication mode for a ride back into downtown at the midnight shift end . I get the usual pattern of sudden dead-stop conversations, where it seems they want to get me to a certain point and then they cease, even in a three-way conversation. I also get plenty of the stand-next-to-me-for-absolutely-no-reason stalkings, not to mention even more curious back-and-forths where a Fuckwit co-worker goes past for no seeming reason, putzes on something way outside their station, and then comes back. There is the tell-me-half-the-job-but-let-me-find-out-the-rest-while-on-the-job games, coming from the forewoman, business manager and those who should know better. Why they do this I have no idea. Then on the first full shift on Monday, the business owner gangstalking, the German man in his 60's in his black ski pants was back-and-forthing, putzing around and even giving me some helpful training tips on wrapping the seedling bundles. Then he hasn't come back, in keeping with another gangstalking flavor, having the business owner come out for a victim tour. Some of the big fat native Indian males have taken to pounding the conveyor belt in some kind of drumming fashion, obviously arranged so that they aren't busy while I am. The walk-straight-at-me games are also scripted, as are the hoodie-hang-abouts in the dark at the garage door entrances. I go to the lunch room to keep warm, but at least half the crew strangely stands around for their two half hour breaks we have in out eight hour shifts.
Other Unfavored freak demographics have been the large gutted males, overweight native Indians, a Caucasian skinhead, the army combat fatigues, male ponytails, redcoats and red hoodies, and a few others. And only one Favored demographic person, a 30-ish female on the permanent staff in jet black hair to her shoulders, looking very trim even if also wearing combat fatigues colored pants, and being as dishy as a freckle faced woman can be. She likes, or more like, is assigned to loiter around me sometimes for seeming unneeded reasons, and also is arranged to be in my line of view more often than would be expectable. Not to mention cruising in close behind me at the end of the conveyor, and artfully being exactly in the way at the exact moment I turned to place three bunches of seedling onto the turntable. All to get in close, and then surprise me for whatever reason the perps have.
Other games this week have been to have me do a first-time ever back to back legs shave followed by a face and torso shave. The perps have always had me do these separately, the legs shave being once per week in the late evening with a Wilkinson triple razor, and the face and torso together each day with the Gillette twin razor. But as I am effectively staying at my perp-abetting mother's as part of the evening time vehicle borrowing arrangement, I don't do a full torso shave when there. If I get up early, I will get the bus and do a full torso shave at my place. All manner of combinations of shave areas, razor blade selection and location of shaving are being exercised by the perps, along with now using a long-stored razor handle. It is all too exciting for them, these arrangements to have me shave in differing combinations, permutations and locations and differing shaving foam. That I sold my bed to facilitate moving also added to this week's games, as the above mentioned sleeping arrangements have also added to the disruption games. Regular readers will know that the perps put no end of effort to mess with my bedding, its colors, its laundering and whatever residual color/energy effects they seem to be looking for by remote means.
And more hacking of my email account, even after I changed my password which is rated as "strong". the Gmail anti-spam thing continues as the reason/obstruction in attempting to create a new account, and switching to Yahoo dot ca is also fraught with uncertainty. No one is making it easy, that is for sure.
1300h
More clunking from overhead while eating lunch. This clunking started up here about 6 months ago, and is identical to the garbage chute noises of the place I had, 2006 to 2007. This apartment is well away from the garbage chute noieses of this building, and I haven't heard anything in the prior 3.5 years. All of a sudden the noise starts up as if it were from the long ago building. I am going to call this blog done for the week, and will attempt another then. though I will be driving to Penticton to look at accomodation.
Sunday, December 04, 2011
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