I knew I was screwed when I heard "Rest Stop" and thought to myself, "damn, Rob Thomas knows just how I feel." Maybe I should have killed myself right then. But, no, instead...I downloaded it and learned to play it.

I used to despise Matchbox Twenty with the white-hot intensity of a thousand suns, to quote a friend. I hated Rob Thomas, I hated his singing voice, I hated his "sensitive ponytail man" lyrics, I hated his stupid, pitiful whining. I hated that look he gets when he peers longingly into the camera in the "Push" video. I hated his bad haircut and his stupid bad acting.

Then I went back to my parents' town for summer break. I was driving to the video store when "Push" came on the radio. I reminded me of home. Like, the dorm was my home. Not that damned town where my parents took me against my will. I had to pull over and cry. I blame a temporary lack of Serotonin for that moment. I still hated Matchbox Twenty.

But, hell, with Linkin Park, Creed, Puddle of "Mudd" and all those other sixth generation d-grade grunge bands around, maybe Matchbox Twenty aren't so bad. Maybe there's a time to be pitiful and whiny. Hell, it beats wearing a wife-beater tank top and striking a crucifixion pose on stage, right? (I'm looking at you, Scott Stapp.) Maybe, since I haven't had cable in two years and haven't had to look at Mr. Thomas, he's a little more stomachable. Maybe because he's having some kind of awkward chubby, very non-rock star phase. Maybe because I can finally listen to the radio for three seconds without hearing his freaking band. I don't know. Maybe I've just redirected the vast majority of my bile toward Creed. Well, that's not really a "maybe." I definitely hate Creed, will always hate Creed, and will never, never, ever begin to like them. Ever. After all, that Creed guy only knows one note. Maybe he and Natalie Merchant should get together. Between the two of them, their duet would contain a whopping TWO notes...unless they ended up being exactly an octave apart.
But, I digress.

For whatever reason, I'm starting to like Matchbox Twenty.

"While you were sleeping, I was listening to the radio, wondering what you're dreaming...and it came to mind that I didn't care." Hell, even my whiny goth ass can't think of something that pitiful.