We were still shaking off our New Year's hangovers when the news broke: a partying Britney Spears had married childhood pal Jason Alexander. Mazeltov, right? Eh, more like oops. In two days their romance was kaput and in September, the pop princess - rumored to be worth $128 million - tried the nuptials thing again with a dancer rumored to be worth $1.98. Older and wiser, Brit kept the ceremony hush-hush, and didn't even bother to file their license.

In 2004, the online diary/scrapbooks called "blogs" went mainstream, and anyone who could drag 'n' click an Xtina jpeg had their own url. Gossip hounds flocked to Gawker.com for the latest dirt and pictures of Tara Reid tumbling out of a limousine. Politicians used the impromptu Web sites to unite their far-flung supporters, and no TV roundtable was complete without a blogger-dude being cast a pundit. In many cases, it was the first time they delivered an opinion wearing more than just a bathrobe.

With cell-phones now capable of taking photographs, they've have become an essential part of the gig-going experience. Why simply stand and enjoy the Pixies rocking their heads off when you can a) take out of focus "action" pictures of them, b) dial your answering machine to bootleg an exclusive live version of "Gigantic," or c) phone all your ticket-less friends to let them know that you're the superstar who made it to the show.

Creativity has often been harnessed into massive opuses. Take Peter Jackson's three-part The Lord of the Rings or George Harrison's 'All Things Must Pass.' In a white heat of inspiration, Nelly determined that he, too, had more jewels that one release would hold. Like its predecessor 'Speakerboxxx/The Love Below,' 'Sweat' and 'Suit' were either a glimpse at two sides of a complex personality or a ruse to spread out one decent album over two CDs. It was an infectious template as both R. Kelly and Nas dropped double discs, too.

Long drive ahead of you? Taking a while for that red light to change? In need of constant visual stimulation? No problem - this year the DVD player went mobile. SUV-driving parental units kept the kids quiet with old SpongeBob episodes. Hip-hoppers installed screens in their steering wheels to watch NBA highlights at stop signs. Downside? Statistics showed less than 50% of Americans read for a half-hour a day.

Thanks to the iPod miracle, we can now listen to our Metallica bootlegs anytime, anyplace. But in this cooler-faster-better world, we knew there had to be an update coming. In the spring Apple unveiled the latest twist in the evolution of personal music accessories. Their big idea: make it smaller and splash it with pretty colors. By 2010, a 100 gig player will be luminescent pink and the size of child's finger nail. Can't wait.

P. Diddy does not sleep. Having proven he could run the New York Marathon last year, in 2004 he set his eyes on both the Great White Way and the White House. First the hip-hop entrepreneur starred in a revival of the classic A Raisin in the Sun. While a Tony Award never arrived, Diddy's star power did make it a hit. Then he coined the "Vote or Die" slogan to mobilize the youth vote in this year's election. Coming in 2005: Diddy discovers a cure for cancer.

The strange nature of "celebrity" got stranger with Paris Hilton's ascent. Blessed with a whopping fortune and the personality of a Cheerio, the ultimate blonde landed in the spotlight thanks to a homemade porn video sold by her ex. She then parlayed her infamy into a reality TV show, a book called Confessions of an Heiress, and record deal. The title of her new single? "Screwed." Tell us about it.

A tempting concoction of sugar, caffeine, taurine, glucuronolactone, and B-complex vitamins, Red Bull might be the best thing to come from Austria since slick-haired '80s singer Falco asked Amadeus to rock him. Although dismissed by some scare mongers as "liquid cocaine," the familiar blue and silver can became a ubiquitous accessory for anyone hoping to multi-task into the wee hours, and, it's said, needing a sweeter alternative to Viagra.