Pomegranates. The psycho fruit.

Here for such a short time, that delectably frustrating fruit.
I'll obsess over the holiday arrival of my favorite super food for months. But once they arrive, carefully packaged in crates and bins at the local produce mart, the sweetness becomes cloying and I can't help but reevaluate our relationship.

Sure pomegranates look great, all shiny and red, sporting that weird crown shaped sepal thing, but are they really worth the effort?

Whatever.
You know I look good.

For one thing, you CANNOT multitask while eating a pomegranate. They demand all your attention. Should you try, the jealous juicy mess that is pomegranate will destroy your entire surrounding area. Keyboard? Ruined. Book? Defiled. Controller? Ravaged.

Son of a...

While you and Pomegranate are together, she will not allow any outside distractions.

Say good-bye to your social life, hobbies, and work productivity.

You can't even speak to another human being without Pomegranate getting in the way. Seeds spitting in all different directions, juice running like blood...

Speaking of which...

You will always look like one of two things while consuming Pomegranate.

A serial killer cannibal, or a zombie in the middle of a meal.

Not undead, just on her second pomegranate.

A seed explosion is practically guaranteed while tearing apart the fruit.

One of them will probably hit you in the eye.

Vitamins and nutrients delivered straight to your face!

They're abusive and controlling, but you know they don't really mean to hurt you. Inside they're really very sweet. As long as you keep things contained in the comfort and privacy of your own home...

Otherwise, things quickly spiral out of control.

You love to eat them in private, but refuse to be seen with them in public. Mostly because they make everything about them, and will create the messiest of scenes.

It's a tricky relationship, and once you feel like you've figured out how to handle Pomegranate in all it's beautiful ridiculousness...

They're gone.

I'm out.

Season's Greetings, Pomegranates.

You beautiful psychos.

The 40% parking problem.

Comparatively speaking, I haven't been a functioning adult for very long. Yet, it seems to be long enough that I've begun noticing a pattern of certain... issues.

Such as...

 

 And with it... The Holidays.

Overstimulating, overspending, overload.

But wait! Here's some happy news! If you have an Average Joe job, (like most of us), as of today, there is only one grossly inadequate paycheck left until Christmas.

Fffuuuuucccc...

Which means that at some point soon, you'll be desperately searching for a parking spot just outside that overwrought beacon of consumables, tinsel, and Auntie Anne's...

The descent begins.. into The Mall.

...because as nice as Amazon is,  it's difficult to buy clothes online with any confidence. And then there's that stupid last minute gift for the person you foolishly started dating right before Thanksgiving.

There's a reason why you don't break the rules of dating season.

Even though you thought you had both agreed to keep things casual and not get each other anything, they're hinting that they still picked you up "just a little something" which will probably be lame. But, you'll need to reciprocate anyway, unless you want to be alone for New Year's Eve and Valentines Day... again.

So to the mall you go..

And after cruising the parking lot perimeter for the eleventh damn time, it appears a space has finally become available.

See it? There's an open spot just behind that white SUV!

Just as you begin to think that maybe this won't be so bad, while the first hint of that holly jolly feeling begins to warm your cold Grinch heart, you pull around and almost crash into someone's 1983 Ford Fiesta.

Unobtrusive to a fault.

Or a Vespa, Mitsubishi Mirage, Mazda 323 GTX... you get the idea.

The point is, any time you think there's an open parking space, there is also a 40% chance that a compact car is lurking between two SUV's. Waiting to crush your hopes and send you slinking back to the warm glow of eBay and Amazon.com

There is no cure, there is no prevention, there is only the grudging acceptance that the outside world is an irksome, silly place. And we should all stay inside, in our elastic-less sweatpants, getting drunk on rum, and making impulse purchases of light saber replicas.

Just under $300!

 You know.... at least 'til Easter.