… it very likely ain’t a giraffe.
(And the local “dog” stuff means nothing to me. As does most of the other local stuff, of course.)
… it very likely ain’t a giraffe.
(And the local “dog” stuff means nothing to me. As does most of the other local stuff, of course.)
As a geologist in Amsterdam knows, when I still used WhatsApp, I was not able to call without okaying that the conversation was recorded and the recording did not end up on my equipment. Similar mischief has gone on over the years and I now also have videos online from which my voice can be harvested.
I think it’s merely hacker interference but “Tim” just wrote to me that his fridge is broken and that he is trying to hook up his fridge to the water supply.
If it’s genuine – which I doubt in view of the horrendous hacker interference I have been subjected to since moving to Portsmouth – then Tim is badly losing the plot and someone should go check on him.
I am not able to call him and even if I could, there likely wouldn’t be anything I could do as I am on the other side of the world.
This morning, I found that my gmail login password had been changed. This sort of thing has happened a bazillion times in the past decade.
And, apparently, my 2FA phone number had been removed so that I could not log in.
I also had trouble accessing other e-mail so I currently have no access to my gmail. Working on solving various issues at the moment. This has been my life for over a decade now. One gets used to it.
Earlier this year, I received a strange warning that seemed to suggest that a narcissist was going to destroy me (sure, whatever), but perhaps more significantly, I received the following three non-permanent popups on the SIM-less phone that I was using for my videos.
Oh, yes, whoever’s been pestering me has all my logins. But of course.
My 2FA phone number had NOT been removed from the Google account so this must have been a Google #fail
Oh, if only every problem in the world was this easy to solve!
My gmail looks fairly normal today, more like what it should look like rather than what it has been looking like for far too long. (If I am still not getting all my e-mail, which I do think is the case, well, then it’s way too late after all these years for this to still be of significance and to worry about it.)
(I just entered the new password and once again, it tells me it’s the wrong password.)
Oh, it may be that randomiser thing, perhaps (hacking). I have SEEN that in action in the past.
Is gmail urban slang for something, by the way?
On the one hand, I want to document the weirdness that is going on in my life so that there may be people “out there” who know that this is going on and, also, to protect myself against any potential negative side effects on my life of other people’s neurodiversity.
By the latter, I mean that while I accept people with NPD and do not blame them for having NPD, I also know – have learned – that having NPD can make a person feel very vulnerable and also very vengeful.
Locally, I have been through a large number of increasingly high-impact “set-up days”. Abroad, I know someone else who’s admitted to “always scheming”.
On the other hand, I don’t want to whine and whine and whine and whine and worry and worry. I want my life back – or at least have A life again (and that statement is totally unrelated to the lockdowns) and whining and whining and worrying is not going to accomplish that.
So I will do both. I don’t want to be dismissed locally as “a foreign older woman who gets delusional under stress” and/or “who merely imagines that she went to university but obviously never did”.
The logical thing to do with all of this is admit and accept that I am now an inclusivity, (neuro)diversity and equality maven.
I sometimes get the impression that you think that if you make it impossible for me to make a living, I will move in with you.
This is not how it works.
If you continue to make it impossible for me to support myself, the last thing I would do is move in with ANYONE, with the possible exception of my Dutch siblings, who you do not want me to be in contact with because you think they are evil or otherwise flawed.*
This just isn’t how it works as seen from my side.
It may look totally logical from your side – I get that – but the main thing you often do, sadly, is make me fearful and angry and this is why I would not at all move in with you or with anyone else.
I often feel that you are keeping me prisoner. I do not feel “loved” by you.
Am I willing to talk with you about this? Yes, of course, but I would like to have someone present who can serve as an intermediary because… you very often scare me (but also make me angry). And I often seem to make you angry and frustrated. So I need a translator. And you need a translator. Can you understand that?
I am sorry that I undoubtedly often gave you the wrong impression. (That is why I need a “translator” to talk with you. Know what I mean?)
*(Yes, my siblings are much more materialistic – always have been – and they concern themselves more with appearances, but that does not make them evil. You also have to keep in mind that they continued to interact with my dad for a long time – decades – and may still have some healing to do because of that (and that had not occurred to me until recently as I already cut off all contact around 40 years ago) and that is not the only thing that affected my siblings that they may still have to do some healing about. They’re humans, not robots.)
(Another attempt to find out what else I may be dealing with besides Portsmouth’s regular community bullying. Because the many hints for so many years about who this was supposed to be simply have never added up for logistic reasons. That person is part of it but whatever is going on extends beyond him and does not even seem to be primarily coming from that person – though that is hard to know for sure, under the circumstances.)
I just managed to get access to this website again (to which I lost access on the 19th).
After lots of hiccups and other stuff. In a nutshell, my new computer kinda collapsed on me and my mobile continues to do some weird things as well.
I also continue to get jerked around, regardless of who exactly is doing it to me and why. Ha. What else is new?
I got a message out of the blue from someone in Florida that day. It appeared to be a response to an e-mail from me, but I had not written to him and I had not tried to call him either. Last year, he let me know that he no longer has a landline. In a later e-mail, at the start of this year, however, he wrote something that indicated that he does still have a landline. Strange. I don’t think I have his mobile number. Nobody rang me, according to my mobile. (I have no land line, haven’t had one for several years.)
Yesterday, I finally decided to mention it (in an e-mail, granted, but I am currently unable to call him and Zoom/Skype calls often don’t work out with this person; he usually ends up wanting to connect when I am not at my desk). Apparently, his landline had indicated, back in May, that I had called him but left no message. Again, I didn’t call him.
Apparently, he then called me. Again, my phone did not receive any calls.
Also, at the end of last year, one of his e-mails said that he no longer had a landline, but a few months later, he referred to his landline. Has now confirmed that he still has a landline. Okay, let’s assume that his e-mail last year only said that he was contemplating ditching his landline and that I’ve simply remembered it wrong. Still does not explain the call he claims he received and the call he claims he made.
I am not entirely sure what the nature of the issue is in this case.
I also received direct messages on Twitter since the start of March from someone claiming to be a friend of this person. The account no longer exists and on LinkedIn, that person mentions a different Twitter handle as a way of contacting her. The account that contacted me on Twitter at the time had the look and feel of her LinkedIn account and I had been told by e-mail that she was going to contact me.
What I found odd at the time was that when I asked her about her work, she gave me an excuse for not answering and said she would get back to me. (The reason why she contacted me was supposedly for professional reasons! Well, if I don’t know what someone does…)
Excuses for not answering questions about one’s professional activities and excuses for not wanting to make an appointment for a video call are often good indicators for an account being fake.
Here is the second contact attempt made from that Twitter account.
Very weird, certainly in view of the fact that she had previously “disappeared”. This is not a person I’ve ever met or talked with. She did not reply when I responded to this.
And then there is the issue of me not being able to reach certain sites in the Netherlands from time to time (such as pension-related) and possibly the issue of my missing driving licence, not to mention the rest.
However, I certainly can’t rule out that the real issue is the person in Florida, with regard to that side of the strange things that continue to happen in my life. He’s done a few really weird things over the years off and on, granted. And after all, his Facebook account is also in the name of his friend. Okay, let’s assume that, for clarity’s sake. Okay, this does have the right feel to it. It’s also the application of Occam’s razor with regard to this. So I am dealing with more than one issue, one local and one Florida-based. Okay. Knowing that really helps.
(He may have gotten stuck a bit, to do with very specific high-level professional training he received in the past. That alone might explain it. It happens sometimes, when you are in that kind of profession. If not, then it is who he is.)
Now I still need to solve the rest. (Unless he’s flown over in the past and is paying local people to complicate my life, lol, which is a little too far-fetched, I think that the rest really is genuinely locally driven stuff, “as usual” for the locals.)
I just received a welcoming e-mail from a bank where I opened an account some years ago.
I also seem to have missed a lot of postal mail again. This has happened ever since I moved into this address. On one occasion, a package of mail items for me covering several months was apparently found in the mud somewhere and handed in at Royal Mail who packaged it in plastic and handed it over one day. I’ve also had local postal mail arrive about a year after it was sent etc.
From time to time, I must remind you that I became the target of so-called sadistic stalking in June 2008. It’s included extensive hacking and a great deal of sadism. I try to ignore this as well as I can, but I don’t always succeed. It’s a big part of why I am often so “flat” (subdued, bland) or act downright silly at times or angry. However, it’s also what got me into (neuro)diversity issues and I keep telling myself that all is well that ends well.
I don’t know if you are making one of those lists with good intentions for the new year or are entertaining wishes for your Christmas presents, but I hope they’ll all come true.
This morning, I reminded myself that I’ve picked up all sorts of habits over the years, while I moved through various cultures. Mine, for example, does not have a Christmas presents tradition, but you know what? I’d completely forgotten.
[The Dutch do celebrate Christmas, but they give each other presents on St Nicholas Day – Sinterklaas – at the beginning of December. As Dutch mobile phone provider Telfort gave me free calls at Sinterklaas, I know that the tradition is still going strong in the Netherlands, complete with the soot-faced chimney sweeps, and their hand-held short natural-materials brush called “roe” and their chimney sweep’s beret.
The chimney sweeps descend down the chimney to deliver the gifts while Santa (Sinterklaas) and horse wait on the roof, moon overhead. In the days running up to Sinterklaas, Dutch children place one of their shoes near the chimney so that one of the chimney sweep can leave some candy, if he happens to pass by their house, in exchange for a carrot or some sugar for the horse. Apparently, chimney sweeps bring good luck.]
Today, I received a Christmas parcel from the States. I’ll open it on the evening of the 24th, because I think that’s what I am supposed to do.
It’s gonna be my 15th Christmas in Britain and my 10th in Portsmouth. Same for New Year’s Eve. For the coming year, I have lots of wishes for myself, but I am keeping them to myself.
For the world, I have lots of wishes too, but it feels grandiose to say that. It is not my place to dictate for other people what they should wish (though I can fantasize!). I guess that in reality, those wishes represent what I want for myself to some degree.
The above collage contains a photo of a Christmas wreath I decorated while I was living in Florida in the mid 1990s, with dough-based ornaments and sea shells that I painted and Spanish moss, crops of photos of some of the other ornaments I made back then, and a 2009 Christmas card that I scanned and pasted into the image. Then I added a red mist focus.
Oh, by the way, I saw lots of pale salmon-coloured starfish washing up at Southsea, two or three days ago. Amazing! Brought back memories from my high-school biology class. There was a fierce storm with high waves, and lots of seagulls riding them, feasting on various goodies.