Hello hello 2009.

The WordPress update went well. But if you come across anything weird, please let me know so I can fix it.

I joined twitter today. I don’t really know what I’m doing yet (or understand the whole “@” symbol usage), but you can follow me as I figure it all out.

I also joined del.icio.us a few weeks ago and have been bookmarkin’ like crazy. If you want to take a peek at the running clothes on my wish list (moisture-wicking fabric is my new obsession), the food I want to make (but probably will never get around to) or the designs I admire, check out my links.

I’m actively using flickr now. Finally. I was a Flickr fav-ing machine over the weekend. I had no idea how much inspiration was out there. Now I’m wondering how long it’ll take before I break down and buy the pro account with unlimited uploads. I’m attempting a hybrid 365 photo a day/self-portrait challenge and hope that I’ll start taking photos regularly enough to warrant splurging on a digital SLR (Dear IRS, please give me another refund check this year. Kthx).

I’m always interested in seeing what other people are looking at and up to, so if any of you belong to these sites, I’d love to expand my network.

My wireless internet at home is down though. Major bummer. I’m not sure what happened. One afternoon I was interneting away. Then I checked my e-mail after dinner and couldn’t get anything. I did not know what to do with myself. I couldn’t read because I was at the point in The Artist’s Way when you deprive yourself from words for a week. Of course my internet outage had to happen at the same time. It was torture.

To keep myself busy while avoiding words, I organized my underwear drawer. You read that correctly. That is how desperate I was. I really didn’t know what else to do.

A college roommate and I somehow got into a game of counting our underwear during senior year. Sometimes we’d just blurt the number out in conversation, much to the initial confusion of the other person and anyone else in ear shot. We also held recounts as needed and were constantly surprised by the numbers. There was no point to it; we just thought it was funny.

There really wasn’t any point to organizing my underwear drawer. And I found no humor in it, but I was bored out of my mind with no promising alternatives.

I took out the crumbled contents and neatly started folding them on my bed. I considered how I wanted to categorize them. By color? Style? Fabric content? How much I liked them? How often I’ve worn them? How long I’ve owned them? Does anyone else have criteria to organizing their underwear?

I decided to arrange them by how much I liked them + how often I wore them. Weeks later, they’re still nicely folded in piles and the embarrassment of the act has marginally faded.

Then I realized that I could bide my time watching DVDs (um, duh) and pulled out season seven of The West Wing, which I never actually saw in its entirety because I was studying in Italy for part of it. I almost peed my pants in the excitement of seeing “new” episodes. I’ve continued my binge with season three and ordered season five with Christmas money. Josh Lyman, you’re not going anywhere.

My internet now manifests itself in the form of a very, very long cord that crosses through the entire living room into my bedroom. Sometimes I attempt to close my door five times before I get the cord in the right place to allow the door to shut. I nearly trip over it right after I wake up in the morning. I will not complain too much (because I don’t want to resort to organizing my underwear again and my new DVDs won’t arrive until Wednesday) but I’m holding out that the new modem my dad’s mailing me will get my wireless back up.

Let’s hope the rest of the year isn’t so technologically challenged.