Where I've Been

My head is killing me. My legs hurt. I feel like shite..

I had about 3 Vortex healing sessions pretty close to each other. Now they are catching up. It is hitting me like a ton of bricks. My body feels thrashed. I am sore. My legs ache, my heart chakra is tender, my head is doing...I don't know what. My jaw is a little more relaxed and I think I am pms-ing. Sonofabitch, everything at once.

Saturday was the worst! I felt like I was having a breakdown. I was crying, curled up into a ball on my bed and sad. Everything felt heavy. I felt out of control. Every man I ever dated who really touched me, was suddenly missed. I could only think of the nice things they did for me, the sweet words they said to me, the letters they wrote. I was filled with fondness and tears. My mind was jumbled. I couldn't stop reeling.

My head is hard to describe. The left side is a wreck. My eye will twitch and feel like it's pulling outta my head. I know that's not possible. Now my "good" eye is beginning to twitch. I can't be in the sun. I don't feel like driving. Sometimes I get pains on the left temporal. I don't know how I'll be able to work a desk job again. How will I be able to sit there and look at a computer all day and not have these head/face pains. We shall see.

Starbucks is looking better and better. One day soon, I will find myself some answers. Until then, I need to go back to bed. How I love my bed!!!

That's Entertainment!

I am working on an art project. It's been done before.... this is my spin on it. C'mon, everyone borrows or is inspired by someone else and sometimes, people rip other people off and soak in all the glory. This is a little different.

The hope is that this project will be healing. People will be able to voice their regret, wonder and move on. Please, people, heal, enjoy what you have right in front of you. Life is too short to feel otherwise. In general, shoulda,coulda, woulda - does NOT work! Keep on keepin on!!

It has not officially launched yet. Soon, hopefully within the week, the Love Dirt Project will be in full swing. http://www.myspace.com/lovedirtainment

You tell us who was the One that got away? Do you regret ruining a relationship, wishing you could go back and be with that person? Did you settle and take out your frustrations on your current partner? Are you ashamed to admit this? Is this your deep, dirty secret and ruining your life in some way?

It's time to let it go. Now.

Send a postcard. An original postcard. Keep it brief, but legible. You can simply write the first name of the person. Or you can write a sentence or two stating why they were the one or a combo of both. Whatever frees you. We hope this is a healing experience for you.

Stay tuned for the address...until then, happy creating and purging.
Much Love.

Weeds and Weed

I don't have fancy cable. I can't justify spending that much money to watch one or two shows. Instead, like many, I wait for the dvd sets to be released. Then, I have a marathon day. recently, I gathered up "Weeds" and "Entourage".

I think I expected too much from "Entourage". Yes, I did find it amusing. I think Pivens is the best part. He makes the show. Without him, would I still be interested in watching? I don't feel connected to any of the characters. I have no desire to learn more about them nor am I on the edge of my seating, waiting to see what they'll do next. That's disappointing when it comes to a show.

I want to be emotionally involved. I want to be motivated to turn off my radio and turn on my tv. Give me something to be moved and inspired by. Make me nervous or uncomfortable. That didn't happen with "Entourage". All I was left with was the urge to overspend, wanting to drink and buy a Hollywood Hills home. I'll get right on that last one....

"Weeds" is fanatastic. Who thought I'd care about an older, white lady pushing drugs? Not I. Why do I love it so very much? Because once again it's the Underdog and I am a big fan of underdogs everywhere. This woman is doing what she feels she needs to do to survive. Even if she's out of her element. I don't do drugs. I haven't ever experimented with a drug in my life.
I could be a medicinal user if I had the desire to be and this frustrates many people.

You would think that with my health issues, I would be making copious amounts of special brownies for myself. They'd be perfect to pack for lunch and picnics! I am in constant pain and sometimes that pain stresses me out. I don't know how to live my life due to the pain or I can't work at certain jobs due to pain. Many nights I don't sleep due to pain. I simply explain it as insomnia. When you are trying to work a regular 40 hour job, having health issues and holding onto a job become challenging. I manage.

I don't like the idea of collecting disability because I would be watched. Yes, I am in a lot of pain. Sometimes my left leg goes completely numb - down to my toes! But I still HAVE to go out dancing. Once in the music-trance, I am saved. I am one with music and happy. I forget the pain and dance, dance til I can't breathe, but still keep on going.

Of course most people would argue that I'd be ripping off the State and the taxpayers if I can dance. Why not just work a regular job? You don't live in my body. You have no idea what I go through. I don't feel sorry for myself and I don't lie in bed, crying wondering - why me? I never have, not even as a child. Music is my drug. If people can have their medical weed cards, why can't I have a medical dance card?

Puddle of Ick

I figure I am ocd for very good reason. I hate needles and germs can send me over the edge. I'm not comfortable with my own funk. I carry my deoderant with me often. I can't handle smelling. Sometimes I change shirts twice a day. I like feeling clean.
Maybe the Universe knew I was going to be a handful, knew I'd get myself into all kinds of trouble if I didn't have certain mental blocks.

I freak out at the thought of having to use a port-o-potty. It isn't as if I was raised in a fancy house with maid service. I have even cleaned houses for elderly women. I can't go to have my blood drawn without nearly passing out. Going to get tattoos becomes a huge mental meditation exercise for me. It's life changing and testing for me.

The way I see it is like this; I was meant to have these mental blocks. They have probably saved me from becoming a heroin addict or a porn star. If I wasn't so icked out about having good hygenie and who or what touches me, I could have put myself in some ugly situations.

Luckily, I am blessed and that is not me. I love my comfy bed and the luxury of clean socks. Every morning when I wake up, I do the exact same thing each day; I rush to the bathroom to rid myself of the ick that has grown on me overnight.

In this horrid heat, I have been squirming. I have a hard time falling to sleep because I can feel the sweat trickling down my legs, collecting on my back. I can't wait to rush to the shower. Still, I won't waste the water. I do my best to get in and out asap. If only I had a pool. Could I handle a pool with all those germs and chemicals? Do you think?

We Miss the Boat.

My life is wrapped in Spirituality and Healing. I really can't avoid it. Most of my friends are Healers. Half my e-mail inbox are e-mails about healers, teachers, lectures, classes, newsletters, etc. Everyone I know can't wait to share the good they have had and pass it on with almost too much enthusiasm. We are geeks. Healer Geeks! I recognize this and I am able to laugh it off. I take a little of everything and apply it to myself. I firmly believe if it works for you, keep it. If not, keep on moving.

I have been meditating and studying all about Sai Maa (www.humanityinunity.org). It began shortly after I fell in love with Cranialsacral work. I love the benefits. I love doing sessions. I want to share it with everyone. I am even willing to trade for a good meal if you can't afford a couple sessions. It's my hope people get a feel for it, notice the results and embrace it.

Sai Maa has the ability to heal you on a deep level. It is said that even if you look at her picture, she can see you. So when you meet her in person, Sai Maa already knows you. Her retreats are popular and I have been encouraged to go and share the benefits. I am not sure I want to go. I HAVE seen the transformation in my friends take place. They seem years younger upon return, more peaceful, jazzed to be alive, living with a stronger purpose. So why do I not want to go? I am a different kind of breed of healer.

I hate the chanting, the extreme people make me crazy, I like drinking alcohol, I like watching tv, I swear too much, I like my punk rock music..... not exactly the sort of things embraced at the ashram. I really do believe in the teachings and messages of many different people. It has been my experience that a majority of people at ashrams don't get it. They take everything to the extreme. They give away their possessions and drop out of life to meditate. Sometimes they cry or faint or shreik because they are over-powered by a Spirit. They never or hardly do things outside of the ashram. They drop their other hobbies and believe whoever they are following will give them all the answers. It is understandable that habits change. Things a person used to love can no longer be appealing due to growth or detox. That happens. but why would you stop doing the regular things you used to do and love? Doesn't that defeat the purpose? Wouldn't it be a better idea to take what you learn and pass the knowledge on to people surrounding you?

Imagine discussions during your lunch hour about Neale Donald Walsch's "Friendship With God". That would be a beautiful experience. Yet, when I went to see Neale speak, it was like an out of control AA meeting. People were treating Neale like he was God. It seemed they missed the message of all his books. Neale is not God. Neale happens to be a messenger. He is just a simple man who was looking for answers and had the luxury of channeling God. From the way Neale's lecture went; there is no doubt in my mind, Neale did not make up that book. No way does he have the focus to come up with those pages. Still, Neale is a fantastic man. He is doing great work, enlightening people, bringing them to their highest good. Bless him and his work. (www.cwg.org)

Yet, I don't believe any of these great beings have all the answers. I believe we all have free will. It's up to us to take what we have learned from our experiences, as long as it's for the highest good, and share with the planet. Some of us are not lucky enough to have the money to go to seminars or take classes, but we can all definately teach one another. Everyone can be available to give a hand up.

You'll Hear Me If you Have Bionic Ears

I sing. Sorta. I have always wanted to sing. Not for anyone, just for myself. It was on my list of things to do before I die. Three years ago I took a step toward this goal. I began looking for a Voice Instructor. I had no idea how to look or what I was looking for.... and to make things even harder.... NO ONE could know.

It's not that I was afraid people would make fun of me, it was that I couldn't have people know because I didn't want to be treated like a monkey. I didn't want people asking me to sing for them. I didn't want people to feel entitled to a performance simply because I disclose this part of myself. People have all sorts of hobbies, like sewing and fishing. No one ever asks them to perform on spot. This is what I want to avoid.

I tried to work with one teacher and it went nowhere fast. We didn't mesh. I was getting nothing from his instructions nor was I trying to sing. I feel like I wasted my money. I almost stopped there. I am so glad that I changed my mind.

I decided to look within a 50 mile radius. I knew this would require even more work if I found an instructor who lived more than half an hour away from me. I'd have to set aside a big chunk of time, if I took the Bay Area traffic into consideration. My one hour class could involve 5 hours of travelling time.

I paid for a months worth of classes and guess what? My new Vocal Instructor lives 50 miles away from me. Ok, so I also have to take into account parking, getting out of work on time or early, the $20 in gas to get back and forth, possible parking fees and the class fee. Is this worth it? Do I really want to invest this much time and effort? The answer is yes all across the board.

It's been nearly 3 years since I have started Voice Lessons with Robin. She is amazing and I can not imagine my life without her. Can I sing? Yes. No. Maybe. Well, technically, I have a 3 octive range voice. (Just as a reference, Mariah Carey is in the 4 - 6 range.) I can hit some good notes and understand the flow of Opera. I love and appreciate Opera, but I LOVE punk rock!!! Anyway, here's my issue - Fear. Fear of I don't know what. I mean, during class it's just the two of us in a room singing, recording and being silly. Yet, my stomach will get tight and I freeze up when I have to sing alone.

I have gotten better. Hard to imagine, I know, but it's true. In the first year, I could barely open my mouth and make a sound. Now I can breathe more consistently and I have my shining moments. I have yet to let go of the fear and it's seriously weighing me down, down, down.

On top of all this internal drama, I haven't told many people that I have been working on this goal. I still lie to people about where I'm going off to weekly. The ones that do know have to be warned to not tell the others. It's a lot of stress. So far, it's worth the extra effort.

Tonight, I had a mediocre class. I was not my best. I do become frustrated with myself, but I keep plowing forward. I refuse to give up. My brother says I need to take it seriously. I do. I spend about $60-70 a week to have a class. Some are fantastic, where I bounce down the stairs and drive home with a huge smile on my face. Other nights, I wanna curl up into a ball and cry like a bitch.

I have yet to sing in front of people. The goal is to put a couple of drinks in me and go for it. Drinking is NOT good for the vocal chords. I do not recommend it. Yet, a shot or two of liquid courage might stop me from over-over-thinking, like I do. At this point in time, just doing it might take priority over not having a drink. Ideally, I'd like to just jump into the fire and do it well. Stay tuned.

Infomercials Own Me;Call Me Bitch.

Every time I end up staying late, I get sucked into the world of informercials. I may not need the product, but I end up considering buying the product. I don't need ProActive and somehow I want it. Every exercise machine that is advertised after 2AM has to fit into my house.

I have ordered the Winsor Pilates dvds and an Urban Rebounder. Now as lame as these items are, they actually work!!! Except now I am being sucked into the world of the Slender Tone. (www.slendertone.tv) Do I really think it works? I don't know. I am doubtful. It does remind me of Bruce Lee though. Besides the Slender Tone, I am trying to sell my house on buying a Bioforce. It seems way more kick-ass than the BowFlex.

I wish I could stay home write and workout all day. Life is good.

Your Words Hold Power, But I Don't Have to Listen to Them!

I think I was around 13/14 when I had another disappointing doctor visit. I was doing great in school. I was on honor roll and breezing through my class, taking Advanced English and doing the day to day auto-pilot, until I graduated. I was also a no-good-Gothic-Punk-Rocker kid. I was comfortable that way and happy. That part of me still exists...I just don't have the energy to paint myself white every morning. Besides, I need to let my pores breathe.

If I recall correctly, I had made this appointment to get a second opinion. My regular doctor was beginning to have a shitty attitude towards me. Apparently, I was interrupting her golf games. Yea, but wasn't I paying for her golf games? I don't even remember the name of the 2nd doctor. He was a total dick! He was asking me what I planned to do with my life. I had a list. I wanted to travel, work in Radio, maybe run around and get into Photography, hike mountains, skateboard, etc.... He sighed and kinda shook his head. He felt I had built up too many posibilities. That I was going to let myself down hard and pretty much told me I'd be better off killing myself. Yet, I can't recall his exact words. (My Mom was there and she can confirm this fact.) He also told me I should learn to type because I was probably never going to be more than a Secretary. That was all I could hope for and then, he left - as if I had wasted HIS time.

I was silent for a moment. Then, I went off. WTF?!? Who the fuck did that guy think he was? Every other word out of my mouth was fuck and my Mom did not wash out my mouth with soap. She led me out of the building while I continued to yell about the bullshit treatment I had been getting from my doctors. Fuck him and his typing!!!

He was 100% wrong! I have done far more than I ever imagined, more than my original list (still working on the skateboarding), and I never learned to fucking type either. I am a shitty office worker and proud of it. Yes, I have worked in offices to pay my bills, but I have never made a long-term career out of it. I have hiked all over Yosemite and Pt. Reyes. I have travelled from one end of the U.S. to the other, I've gone to the U.K. by myself, I have worked in Radio, I have worked in Video, I have danced hard all night. I have thrown myself into the pit at The Ramones when I was 15 and so much more.

Not only that, but I have physically changed the shape/structure of my body through various types of "massage" modalities. My body is stronger and better than ever before. I can stand for a good period of time now. My muscles are stronger. I can finally balance on a longboard and who knows what else I can do. That doctor was way wrong!!! I hope karma kicked his ass.

Two Minutes Of Hero Worship

Today was Warped Tour - SF. One of my favourite events of the year. It's marked on my calendar and I even buy my tix in March.

Warped Tour (for the young ones) used to be based around skateboarding and bike tricks. They had a few bands along for the ride. Suddenly the ramps became smaller and smaller, until ramps became a ramp. A ramp that can just about fit into your pocket. The skaters who come out for Warped Tour are rarely heard about inside the gates. There's nothing written about them in the official Warped Tour guide AP puts out. There's not even a bullshit wipe off board that lists who's around. What the hell?

I had time to kill. I can't even recall which band I was waiting for, but I decided to go and watch some skating. I love skateboarding. I am slowly learning, but I have loved it my entire life. As I got there, stepping off the ramp was Jon Comer. I could not believe it! I had no idea he was going to be there. I had thought about writing him and telling him how much I admire him and am thankful for his passion of skating......here he was! EEEEEK! I thought I was going to throw up. I was shaking like a leaf and I couldn't breathe correctly.
The Jon flippin' Comer...ohmygodwhatdoIsay?!?
http://www.agentogden.com/comer/news.html
http://www.skatewave.com/Athletes/JonComer/JonComerBio

Jon Comer is a pro skater. He skates with a prosthetic leg. He handles that board better than some with two legs. I have two legs which don't work properly. I've even had doctors tell me there's no way I'll ever skate. I'll get there...slowly, but surely. I just bought my first longboard this year. Good things are coming. Anyway, back to vomiting or fainting.

It took about half an hour for me to calm down some. I'm sure he noticed me looking over every now and then. I wasn't staring, I was trying to muster up my courage before he disappeared. Then, I'd lose my chance until who knows when. I am not bring ing this up to be character fault, Jon sat there picking his nose and my ocd did not even get in the way. I was going to talk to him, get an autograph, tell he rocked and even shake his hand without flinching. Serious proof that this was a pivital moment in my life.

I finally told myself, enough. I got up and walked in back of him and sat down to his left. I said,"You're Jon Comer,right?" He looked at me a little cautiously,"Yeeeah." I think he was surprised that I knew who he was. Chicks know stuff, too. I talked to him for a bit. He was polite and down-to-earth. I felt like a geeky 10 year old when I asked for his autograph. I could have left Warped Tour at that moment and not cared. I was so giddy. Nothing else compared to that.

Jon Comer is one with the board. If you haven't seen the documentary about him, search it out. It's called "Never Been Done". You will be inspired and happy. Now get your ass off the couch!

Holidays Are For Suckers

I am on a huge movie kick this weekend. It's another one of those holiday weekends that people become so jazzed up about because they are unhappy with their daily lives. How pathetic is it that 99.9% of the population lives for the weekend? That's 2 days out of the week, people. What if you get hit by a truck? Did you live your life the way you wanted to live it? Do the things you said you would?

I am a hermit by choice. It could also be bad timing. By spending half of my life or maybe even more than half, I have missed out on my generation. It's almost like a child who misses the kindergarten cut-off day and has to wait an extra year to join the class. So then, they are the oldest in class, a little bit out of the edges and never quite fit in. Kids develop differently at different ages. I gain more respect for Montessori teaching all the time. Look into it, you will, too.

I am not a fan of the holidays because they center around hanging out with friends and family, but if you don't have either around you, what do you do? Fireworks have lost their gleem for me. I don't even flinch when I hear them exploding in the dark. I could probably see them from my driveway, but even that requires effort. Maybe that's why people have kids...to get their gleem back. Yet, I still have my gleem. I'm just not interested in crappy holidays.

I have caught up on my errands, have the bills paid, and am now catching up on dvd rentals. "Blue Butterfly" was a touching story. I guess I am getting soft in my age. TeeHee. It's about a boy with brain cancer who wished to go to the rain forest. He is searching for this one magical butterfly. Apparently, it's based on a true story. The footage of the insects and forest animals was amazing. It also made me glad I was home.

I also picked up "Against the Wall". It's about graffiti artists. www.thequalityoflife-themovie.com It was filmed in The Mission District and has a soundtrack done by the band Halou. two of my favourite things. Can't go wrong with that.

It is also around this time of year that I become weird about my birthday. I start to doubt celebrating it. I doubt finding any joy in it or even that I'll have an friends to enjoy it with because they won't make the effort. My birthday is the same fucking day every year. No surprise, that's usually how it goes. Yet, suddenly people forgot or are planning a trip at that time or something came up. BUT when it's their birthday I am expected to be incredibly entertaining and caring wonderful gifts. So I have weeded out these ass-dragging friends. Fuck them. I can get new ones if I choose.

Speaking of ass-dragging friends....hmmm, how about ones who trade you in for strangers, just abandon you? I'd been nearly 4 years since I'd spoken to Sherry and out of the blue, last week, I receive an e-mail from her. It was a short one, just checking if I still used that particular e-mail addy. Here's the thing, I'd known Sherry over 10 years. She was full of drama the older we got and a victim to herself. So what does she do? The essential fuck-up; Sherry pairs up with a shite bf who is abusive on ALL levels.

One night, this prince of a man hits her and she calls me crying. He pulls the phone away from her and begins to explain to me why he had to hit her. I told him to fuck himself and that I did not care about him. He was of no importance to me. Of cousre, he hung up on me and broke her phone, but not before threatening to kill me. For some reason, this wasn't a sign to Sherry that he was a piece of shit. We never spoke again after that night. She fell off the face of the earth and out of my life. Nor did I run into her in public.

Now Sherry would like to be my friend again. What for? I have no use for drama. I have no use for a person who claims to value my friendship and then, sells me out to violence. I have moved on. I have no desire to share any details of my life with this person. She is now a stranger. I told her such and she thinks I might be indifferent , but can't tell. Sherry's still trying to be my friend. It serves me no purpose. I'd rather be alone.

Well, I need to get back to my batch of movies. I'm going to cue up "The Libertine". Maybe I'll venture out and look at some pretty lights in the sky. Be safe. Too many people drive drunk. It's not worth it.

Today, Now Whatever

I am writing more nowadays. I know I have neglected this blog, but things have been changing. I am healthier than I have ever been in my life. Sure, I'm not the perfect size zero, but with these hips that's not possible anyway.

I am now looking for a new job, career path. I love kids and I love writing, if only I could combine the two and make a real living. In the meantime, I am writing a lot more and trying to read books that have been collecting dust. I am working on thinning out my book collection. As if I need any sex ed books. HA! What's that?

I am whittling my days by working out with my snazzy Urban Rebounder and listening to my Sirius. I think Sirius needs to kick me down some credit. I try to sell everyone I meet on Sirius. It is the best thing since sliced bread! There are not enough hours in the day to listen to Sirius. I only pay $12.95 a month and I have hours upon hours of music and talk. That's the cost of a full price shitty movie. (Wait for video if you wanted to see "The Lake House". Great concept, but someone must have messed up in rewrites.)

Currently watching "The Mesmerist" and enjoying a jack and coke. Life is pretty good! How are you?

Have You Confessed?

I had waited years to see Madonna. I have grown up loving her. But Madonna, I gotta tell you, our relationship is strained, Baby.

I bought a cheap ticket. Hahahahahaha....still holding my belly from this thought...... $110 ticket. I sat so high up I was above the lights. The oxygen was scares. You could watch all the other people climbing to their seats and you knew when the lack of oxygen was hitting them. Too many people and this high up was not pretty. We were a tough bunch. For $110 dollars, I expect a blow job, some snacks and a show. WTF, Madonna?!? You are no Sir Paul McCarthney! yet, somehow the man who was once part of The Beatles manages to keep his tickets low. I paid $60 for that one and I even got a light show and some comedy.

Madonna coming out of the sky in a shiny disco ball, dressed like she was going out to ride the horses was....well, .......kinda boring. I had waited years to have this moment and I was bored. I had 30 minutes of random thoughts and disbelief. Why did I spend the money? I could have gone to see Joe Jackson or Donna Summer. What was I thinking? Meanwhile, her dancers did a bunch of tumbling all over the sides and front of the stage.What made me think spending so much money to see Madonna was worth it?

Then, it hit me. Madonna is MY gay icon. I pretty much grew up to her. She was my drag queen persona, gay activists, nightly wet dream. Everybody has theirs; Judy Garland, Bette Midler, Elton John, whoever. Madonna is mine. So this was a full circle moment for me. I am still queer. That hasn't changed and now I had seen Madonna. I was in the process anyway. I am sad to say that I think I saw Mz. M too late in life. ....... She is no longer perfect in my eyes.

Madonna can not sing. Don't try to argue this one. You are dilusional!! It's up there with the moment that you find out Santa Claus is not real. Sigh. Madonna really can't sing. I know this because after about three years I have a three octave rang voice. Sadness. Madonna didn't tell stories, she wasn't incredibley engaging, she stuck to her routine like clockwork and I was still bored. Yes, I got up and attemped to dance in zero inches of space with little oxygen. I now feel like I was training for Everest;sitting in that one month period where your body has to aclimate until you can continue on.

Madonna flipping off the crowd and doing pelvic thrusts....must have been hot say 15- 20 years ago, but now it's kind of pathetic. I want to cover her up. There's no cool factor to it. She's not punk rock when her little girl has a $500/hr hair stylist. For pushing 50, Madonna looks fantastic! She can definately brag that her ass looks better than your ass. (She still has those freaky man hands though.)

I have to admit, the second half of the show seemed livelier. When the music for "Disco Inferno" blasted through, the crowd shot up to scream and dance. I was glad I made the effort to show up. Glad I finally saw MY gay icon. I'm even happy Madonna has grown up and found the Kabbalah. I wish she'd stop with the botox though. See her, at least once, dance your ass off and smile. It wasn't life changing, but it was fun. My favourite part was when she faked being tired and laid down on stage. Her backup dancers/singers covered her in a cloak and dragged her to her feet. the back of the cloak had a shiny,rainbowesqe disco ball. The cloak even had christmas-like lights. She opened it, as if she were gonna fly off stage like Batman. (With Madonna it's all possible,right?) Instead, I heard....."You must be my lucky star....". I thought, "No fucking way!" That's when I started squealing and jumping up and down like a Catholic school girl. The rest of the night was a blur.

And fuck buying a $60 t-shirt. i can go home and make my own or treat myself to a real good dinner. Or you can always hit the t-shirt scalpers outside. $10 bought me a pretty cool Madonna tank top. Worth the price and it fits great. I don't feel bad about it. Madonna didn't feel bad when she raped me outta $110. 'nuff said.