Bachelorette Diaries, WK48; 2012


Sunday, 5:39p.m.

I decided to walk away. Yeah, that’s me, Shiri Yasmine Golan – Miss Independent, self-declared bachelorette of the millennium, trouble seeker and a mother hen – running away from trouble. Coward of the Country. Let the National Snooping Idiots Service (NSIS) win.

I have not yet decided whether to resign from Yedioth Ahronoth or not. I’m still mulling over it. I do it, then what? I become jobless? I get myself a very rich suitor and change to a career housewife (too boring)? Or maybe I shall consider the job offers I was getting from IBM, Microsoft, Google and Amazon and was spamming them. The New York Times had offered me the position of Editor-in-Chief, unbeknownst to them that Editor-in-Chief Yedioth Ahronoth, Kenya had just left them. Plus, the grapevine and conspiracy theorists say that the New York Times is owned and controlled by the Jews to control the world media. Yeah, America is the world.

Then there’s the issue of GEVIN Technologies. It’s family business, but in the grand plan by this Jewish Movement. Is there anyone to trust, really? I was lied to by love, father, and now the country, or the world? It’s not fair.

Well, I could just give everything up. Just place a call to my twin sister, whom I feel like is not actually my twin but dad’s, tell her that I was giving up the family business leadership in Africa. She would want to know why. Obvious I will tell her nothing. Daliah and dad are the true Jews, unadulterated, fanatical when they have to.

I put the worries aside and decided to have fun. Yes, F-U-N. I would not have it otherwise for the world even if the whole of Tel Aviv were burning.

That’s how I found myself scrolling through my phonebook and dialing the only person who could give me what I really needed – hot freaking sex.

Willy is at my beck and call whenever I feel like I want it. It’s not like we are fuck buddies or something. He literally took my breath away when I saw him at Ulinzi House. I have never dated a military guy, but when I saw him my ovaries went off like firecrackers.

I know that army relationships are kinda tricky, but I have decided to delve into it though sometimes I have some reservations and apprehensions. Like when he calls and tells me that another mission has come, there is always another mission.

He came to my house looking like a knight. He is my knight in shining Amor and camouflage amour.  I hope he shall stay long enough to know that what I feel for him is much more than he bargained for. Perhaps due to my resilience and desire to hit at dad, but I don’t want him to be the gloves that I put on to punch my human piñata with.

Saying I had a great weekend would be an understatement, but then let me not bare the spectacular shenanigans that went on the whole weekend in a story that would be heard by both the old and the young. It’s pretty X-Rated stuff.

It’s now in the evening and tomorrow seems like a long shot day. Willy has just taken his leave. Tomorrow, when my day would be bluer than the azure of the sky picking fights with the Editor-in-Chief Yedioth Ahronoth, Kenya and dad over the distance that separates us, my army lover would be on a mission to bomb an Al-Shabaab base in Beles Qooqani. Well, he didn’t tell me that, it’s not like classified information is our pillow talk. I just deduced that since he said he has a mission tomorrow.

I am in this post-weekend analysis mood when my phone rings. Well, it vibrates. I glance at the caller ID and my stomach goes like ‘whack!’ What in the hell of all the madness that’s going on is dad, of all people in the whole wide world, calling me for?

I weigh between ignoring it and picking but I don’t seem to decide. What would I say when I pick up? Dad and I are cloak and daggers these days, and we can’t scoop the dad-daughter of the year award leave alone for a day.

At last, I decide to pick. I want to say, “What?” when I hit the connect button, but I surprise myself when I say, “Hello, dad.”

Advertisements

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s