Murderer.

I have a confession to make.

I have a black thumb.

I am no good with plants. I mean I absolutely LOVE them. I love having them. But I end up loving them to death (fortunately, I am better with people).

Oh, sorry. You wanted proof? Here is a plant (sic: carcass) in my living room:


(As you can see, I also suck at focussing an AUTOMATIC camera.)

That plant used to look more like this (but way more leaves, even):



After less than a month in my home, it's turned into Nicole Richie's horticultural stunt double. The person who gave it to me said to repot it. And I did after it started to look a little tired. But it kept ailing. Til I frantically searched the net for answers. Seems my little Nicole was rootbound. She was growing so fast that her roots got all tangled up in a big, ol' suffocating mess. The roots were so dry and compacted that no water was even making it to them, even if I watered it.

Yesterday, I pinched off all the crispy leaves. I soaked the rootball in a pail of water, then broke up the soil all around it and loosened up the roots so they'd have some breathing room.

I'm not ENTIRELY sure if I'm imagining it or not, but today I thought I noticed the remaining droopy leaves perked up juuuuuust a touch. Which would mean they're finally getting the water they've been dying for. I will be ASTOUNDED if Nicole actually pulls through.

Then she'll sue me and go on Oprah.