Guilty Pleasure: Personal Revelations Through The Material Girl

I keep expecting an intervention; my family draped over my living room furniture, their hands cautiously wrapped around a stack of CDs, my black iPod, the shower stereo. I open the kitchen door everyday, tie collared around my neck, dressed for a day at the bank, expecting a sticky note to be angrily stabbed against my rusting apartment number: Please stop blaring Madonna at 8 in the morning!
I keep expecting my boyfriend to walk into the kitchen-eyes puffy from sleep, searching for a coffee mug-and say, 'Must you reenact the opening of The Confessions Tour every morning?'

To read the rest of Greg M. Schumaker's essay on how Madonna came into his life and became his 'guilty pleasure' visit www.cincity2000.com