Resourceful Aka

So, after last evening's entry, I initially was too tired to do shit. I was also hanging on by a thread, on the verge of a breakdown.

But I had to wipe under my wet pareu. Puddles of water had formed. My rug is not ruined like I was afraid, there's a minor stain on it now. 

Given that my pareus' washing cycle got disturbed due to the water cut, they probably had vinegar and laundry detergent residue on them. Decided to give them a manual rinse just to be sure. I went to the building I will take my showers in for a while, both the flag and the cotton one in a basin. 

The flag's water just turned pink immediately. The damn fucking thing was spilling out so much pink. They really overdid the red parts. I had to give it two or three soaks to get it rid of the pink, though there is still some. Oh, well. It will get better with other washes. Now it's back to its function of decorating my cupboard door, folded and partially revealed.

The cotton one was okay. The paint is mostly settled, and now, after some drying in the sun (which I could do this afternoon), it's back on top of my bed.

I washed both my dishes and myself in the shower room. The bag I use for 'ori tahiti was used to hold my pareu, shower gel, and towel. I carried my dishes in the same basin as the one I keep for eventual pukes that never happen and that might never, ever happen in that basin (lol), every now and then washing my brush, soaking my feet when it gets too hot, and the one I washed my pareus in. Also got a bucket to flush the toilet, and a good reserve of drinking water.

It's... okay, I guess. There seems to be mostly nobody in my building right now. If by Monday the water thing is fixed, then I might have tasted the strange pleasure of showering alone in a public place, and being totally naked in a room where there are usually other naked women, but having literally no one to watch me.

It got too annoying to wash my hands with a bottle of water at home, so I think I'll just mostly go to pee in the other building. Unless it's night, probably. 

***

Also... just a thought, but I think I may be mildly allergic to dogs.

When I lived at my father's, I would always have a partially blocked nose and ear upon waking up. Usually the one that I had slept on. Sometimes both ears especially in winter. And even as a teenager when I'd visit him and Jap was here, I would always have a slightly runny nose. No sneezing or teary eyes, just a mildly runny nose. Just blowing it a little more than usual, and always feeling like it was wet from one nostril. 

It has never happened with my cats. Ever. Only with dogs. Not just with Jap, it's in general. Nose gets a bit wet around dogs. Outside it's alright, but in an enclosed space like a room, it can quickly build up. I just had never registered it as a possible allergy until now, though I had suspected it for a while.

***

That said, I don't remember it was happening with my dog. I had one for a bit, his name was Cool. He was three at the time, I was twelve. A border collie and spaniel mix I believe. but he didn't last long at our place as my mom hated him and he likely did not have many boundaries in his former home. I would let him sleep with me, as I had a double bed. I actually loved sleeping with him. My mom didn't like the idea of letting a dog in the bed, though she was fine with my kitten, Mi-août (Mid-August, she was born in early July but we got her in mid August), sleeping by my side.

She likes dogs, but "at other people's places". Though lately, I feel she's been a little wary of dogs since her friend's young Golden Retriever (ironically named... Vahiné rofl) rammed her in the knee and caused her to have pain so huge she nearly got X-rays for it. 

But that one? She disliked him. He would eat the cat's food and she always felt he was intruding, and constantly acted overly firm and aggressive with him. It just felt like she hated that dog. He once ate rice from a pan in the kitchen and she scolded him harshly.

We returned him to the shelter after we found out he was self-harming, about a month into moving him, by overly licking his front leg, and I remember being devastated to have to let him go.  

I had no idea I would be the one who'd start cutting her arms just a few months later, and I actually didn't make the connection until now.

He was expressing exactly what was going on with me. 

One morning, I was tired, already depressed, not wanting to go to school, and my mom was getting severely rattled at me. It was making it worse. It was winter, we had just moved in, and I was already getting bullied by other kids.

I reluctantly put on my shoes and turned to Cool, who came to comfort me, and said:

You're the only one who gets me here.

Except my mom heard me, and reacted.

Since then, I still am wary of talking to animals aloud about something I feel deep down. Of course I don't believe she would react the same now, nor that I would say such things, but that was burned onto me like with that iron thing they use to mark horses.

Not only that, but barely a month after he left, Mi-août was hit by a car one evening. She was just seven months old and we found her still warm, warned by the cries of her boyfriend, a young black neighbourhood tom that had beautiful mint-green eyes. I would call him Matou. 

Don't know what became of him. He's probably either dead or old now. Must've been less than a year old in early 2012. 

***

Beagles are hounds. Not only do hounds stink more, their dander is probably more allergenic because they have shorter hair and produce more sebum. This, plus Jap always being stressed likely wrecked havoc on my immune system. I once found myself alone with him for a whole week and day by day, he got less stinky. He still smelled like a Beagle, but his scent was becoming weaker as time passed.

Come to think of it, this probably also played into my chronic fatigue at the time. Stress, hypervigilance, eating shit quality food and depressing meals on the weeks my sisters were home, and on top of that, my immune system being constantly inflamed from dog dander.

Fun fact, my father is allergic to cats, apparently to the point that if he puts his arm on a place where a cat has been, he breaks out in hives on his arm. He's always been. Because of that, I did not grow up with cats. 

But me? I can tolerate dogs most of the time. I guess it just settles that I cannot own one unless they live outside for the most part, or in a well-ventilated home.

In the islands, if I get a yard, I'd totally take a couple strays in both for company and for guarding.