Take a look inside GINNY BLUE'S BOYFRIENDS coming this September from Nancy Bush - writing as Nancy Kelly.

Was it George Strait who crooned, All My Exes Live In Texas?  I think so.  It’s certainly one of those country western singers.  I’m envious of George.  Truly.  He only has one state he has to worry about.  All my exes reside in varying parts of California, Oregon, Washington and Arizona, and since I have no desire to leave the great state of California myself, I’m constantly surrounded by them.  Worse – they all live on and on in my mind.  The Ex-Files – currently weighing in at seven – take up way too much of my brain matter.  I’ve got to find a way to expunge them.  I swear, it’s the only answer to the funk I find myself in these days.  And my past romances have really put the pressure on my relationship with Nate The Nearly Normal – my current lover and roommate.  In fact, I have this worrisome, itchy feeling that Nate’s about to become Ex-File #8.

Let me back up....

I have this penchant for nicknames.  I can’t help myself.  As soon as I learn someone’s name – especially if that someone could be a potential boyfriend – my brain starts churning out rhymes and allusions and ironic twists.  It’s like I go into a zone until I’ve come up with some clever name.  I blame my mother.  It’s the curse she wrought when she had the lunacy to name me Virginia November Bluebell.  Could I make a whole lotta names outta that one!  As it is I’ve shortened “Virginia” to “Ginny” and my close friends call me Blue.  I asked Mom once, “Why November?” and she answered, “Because I love the sound of it.”  The look on my face must’ve reflected my desperation to understand, so she added, “And November 11^th is Veteran’s Day,” as if that explained it all.  Since my deadbeat father had never been a veteran and no one in my family seemed attached to this particular holiday, this made even less sense.  My mother is nothing if not obscure.  However, she’s one hell of a real estate agent and I love her dearly.  Lorraine Bluebell could sell ice cubes to Eskimos and probably does on the side. 

Anyway, I woke up this morning with Nate the Nearly Normal’s arm wrapped possessively around my stomach and realized I couldn’t stand his flesh touching mine  another nanosecond.  This feeling of repulsion had been coming on for a while; a niggling thought I’d kept buried way down deep.  Nate was the proverbial nice guy and there had been so few of them during the past few dating years that I had hung onto him for dear life.  I’d made myself believe I liked – loved – him, as much as I could love – like – anyone.  I told myself I was happy in the relationship. 

And there were benefits to being with Nate.  He didn’t completely embarrass me in public by doing any of those disgusting male things that seem to be tacitly okayed by other males, such as scratching his ass, farting or adjusting his balls.  And whenever I peered out at the competition, I literally shuddered.  Conclusion: it was easier to stay in my current position as Nate The Nearly Normal’s girlfriend that throw myself into the dating pit again.

But this particular morning was different.  As I plucked his arm from around my waist, sliding cautiously from our bed, cringing at the movement, afraid even the slightest quiver of the mattress might wake him, I knew it was time to get out while the getting was good.  I dropped one foot to the hardwood floor and Nate’s breathing kind of stutter-stopped for a moment.  I froze.  He expelled air in a long, morning-breath sigh, then started up again, more lightly.  I waited in this immobile limbo, counting my heart beats.  Finally I slipped out of the bed and tiptoed to the bathroom.

In a rush of joy I did a little dance of freedom on the other side of the door.  I actually had the audacity to turn the lock.   Privacy.  Aloneness.  I craved them like chocolate in the midst of a particularly heavy period.  With my own exhalation of breath – a deep sigh of contentment – I stepped into the shower and turned the taps.

The door knob rattled.  “Ginny?  Gin?  You taking a shower?”

Nate: master at stating the obvious.  I turned my face to the hot spray and pretended to be deaf.