Padme Amidala

I have probably have nagged the boyfriend long enough so finally today he came home and brought me a beautiful pot of blooming phalaenopsis orchids. It was a wonderful gesture after I told him he had 'hurt my feelings' for not sympathizing with a recent devastating discovery I had made with regards to some past mistakes (review: Twitter entries). But of course any woman knows such 'fretting' is only staged, with the purpose of creating some leverage for future objectives. Well, it worked!

I worry though that I will kill the plant since I travel often and it seems I have absolutely no hint of a green thumb. As a matter of fact, frightfully, every living thing I touch seems to die an immediate death: plants, pets, even fish.


Anyway, but what abode of a genuine Asian would not be without a pot of such a beautiful orchid, right? At work, I had brought in a very real-looking stem of pink orchids which I had put in an empty bottle of some fancy Italian sparkling water. Officemates thought it was the real thing for about 3 days but after noticing that it has not withered/died/browned/changed they just declared that I was busted.

And so, just as my aunt used to do with her orchid collection in San Francisco, I have decided to name my first pot of orchid. She is now Padme Amidala. Yep, the Star Wars princess because to be an orchid under my care she'd need to be really tough.

When the boyfriend told the florist about my gardening reputation and he says she had a very strange advise: when in doubt, do nothing.