So, I was at the store yesterday, examining the live plants for sale (it’s the time of year when stores stop selling them). As the 4 readers of this blog already know (special shout out to Iran and Singapore! Iran, I see you looking at my Coconut Porn, you perv!), I enjoy plants and animals tremendously. They are what I have (or had–I’m really working to change myself) instead of human friends.
Anyway, there was this beautiful dark green and purple plant on the sale rack. It was a magnificent specimen–I mean, the thing was full and leafy and symmetrical, really a beautiful plant.
I asked the lady at the counter what sort of plant it was. She said that it was a “Wandering Jew.” I know that the Jews have done (and do) a hell of a lot of wandering–those cats have really gotten around, if you know what I mean–but I felt a little uncomfortable calling a plant, even a nice plant, a Jew. Not sure why–if it was called a “Wandering Ukrainian,” I wouldn’t think twice about it. Weird. I will have to ask a Jewish person how they feel about it. Perhaps I should e-mail Philip Roth.
Anyway, the plant was $17 and she “made a special discount for me,” so I carried my new friend to my apartment for only $15.
Houston, we have a problem.
The plant is so big and heavy that there is no place for it. It eats up as much space as a bird cage, and it’s so heavy that it has to be hung from a beam. The thing is huge. It’s like the plant that ate New York. I hanged it in front of my bedroom window and it blocked out the light and the view. I hanged it beside my bedroom mirror, and it occluded my view. It’s absurd. It’s the size of a TV set. Furthermore, I have no idea how to take care of it. There are no Wandering Jews where I come from. Well, maybe two or three, but they all taught at my university.
Do I prune it? Make it smaller? I have no idea. It scares me a little bit. It looks like a badass plant, like it could kill me in my sleep.