If the 1990s were about learning what the Internet could do, then the aughts were about learning what we could do with the Internet (for better or for worse)—instant news, social media sites, high quality streaming video, instant messaging, Wi-Fi hotspots, downloadable music, blogging, and so on. Turns out the World Wide Web isn’t just an easy way to watch porn. Who knew? The Internet hit puberty over the past 10 years, and the world changed in ways that we’re only just now beginning to understand.

Real time blogs from Afghanistan changed the way we prosecute war. Hulu and Apple TV are changing the way we watch television. Facebook has changed our definition of friendship. ”Google” is a verb. Round the clock multimedia coverage of Hurricane Katrina put our national shame sharply in focus. YouTube exposed what a freak show we are. World of Warcraft created a virtual universe where socially inept virgins reign supreme. We learned about the death of the King of Pop and Charlie’s most famous angel from the vultures at TMZ. Hell, we used the Internet to elect a new President of the United States.

It was the iDecade.

Apple’s trademark attorneys must be licking their chops since the California computer giant pretty much owns the letter “i,” In fact, I’m pretty sure I owe Steve Jobs a couple of bucks just for using it in the headline. No device better exemplifies the iDecade than Apple’s own iPhone – a powerful pocket computer released in summer 2007 that’s so intuitive it ships without an instruction manual. I’m not quite sure how I functioned before owning one. I mean, how did I make it from day-to-day without my iReagan app? (There’s nothing more patriotic than having The Gipper in your pocket).

The iPhone was my only tether to the outside world during the two-week blackout following Hurricane Ike. Recharging it mattered more to me than finding drinking water. Over the past ten years, I’ve owned an iBook, iMac, iPod and iPhone. Heck, I’ll even throw Nintendo’s Wii in there. It’s got two “I’s.”

My iPhone is, in fact, the sixth mobile phone I’ve owned this decade. When I was a college freshman in September 2001, I was the only person I knew with a cell phone—one of those dark gray, generic-looking brick Nokia handsets. I remember cranking up over $60 in overage charges while on hold in an attempt to purchase Red Sox tickets (I got to see Derek Lowe’s no hitter in April 2002, so I think it was totally worth it, but my old man disagrees—he’s no longer a fan of the Cingular Family Plan). Now I have unlimited minutes and data. Information has never been more accessible, and it’s never been easier to cheat at Trivial Pursuit.

Don’t ask me how I ever made it from point A to point B without the voice-activated GPS system in my car complete with real time traffic and satellite radio. Screw flying cars. Mine asks me where I want to go in a pleasant female voice—this is not something I’m used to.

Advances in consumer tech aside, the 2000s also saw the rise of the viral video and Internet celebrities. Thanks to “D*ck in a Box,” I no longer have an irrational hatred of Justin Timberlake, who I now concede is hilarious. It’s a safe bet we wouldn’t have MTV’s Jersey Shore without “My New Haircut.” And who doesn’t love a good Rickroll from time to time? Then there are the weirdos who became “famous” like the Numa Numa man and the Afro Ninja. Sure, worker productivity took a hit, but the world is a much funnier place.

So that’s the decade that was. In the '90s we built the digital swimming pool. In the '00s a bunch of people peed in it. Maybe next decade somebody will think to put up the “adult swim” sign.