Psychological analysis — from our online profiles?

So what's the preoccupation with the instant messenger? Why do you find yourself frustrated with the fact that it's three in the afternoon and your friend still has her "in the shower" message posted? When you come to Princeton, your telephone starts to collect dust, and the "dododo" of IM develops a homey, comforting quality. Ellipses replace periods and commas, and capitalization goes out the window with rules of grammar and syntax. You spend your moments of boredom reading other people's away messages and updating your profile with the joke you heard at lunch. Maybe you've moved past the times of "143," "ttyl," and "LOL," but in reality most of us are still completely obsessed with internet communication. It has evolved into a form of self-expression that can almost be analyzed psychologically.

The messages we send while online have to do with more than just what we type. Probably few have contemplated the concept of an IM personality. Creating one begins with the most eye-catching part of the little window — the buddy icon. The buddy icon can range from cute to musical to sci-fi to sporty. Of course, there are also the animated bubble-head-people-being-crazy buddy icons, which, with titles like "For My Homies" and "Helmet Tester" can be equally attractive in their universal appeal. Whichever you pick, the buddy icon is your only visual representation on the internet, so if you're going to have one, it should be cool.

The second preference you must choose is the font and color of your text. It may seem stupid to think about it now, especially if you're a guy, but who really wants to talk to someone in baby-poop green Tahoma? Enough said.

The most vital part of the relatively permanent IM personality is the profile. Most choose to skip the creepy directory option, which practically requires social security number and mother's maiden name, and choose instead the "more info" window as the basis for their profile. Given the 1,024 character limit, the words you choose to put in that space are key. The Frost, Hemingway, "Old School," or friend quotations you cite, the shout-outs, the links to dancing bananas, the contact info — they make up a snapshot of you not unlike the Princeton application's hodgepodge section. Basically, if you go at all beyond your dorm location and phone number, the profile can give clues about your sense of humor (or lack thereof), values and closeness with friends.

One last tiny option has been known to tweak the diehard IMers. Extreme frustration can result from awaiting responses from those who have chosen not to check the little box next to "Allow users to see that I am typing a response." Granted, some may not even know the option exists. However, the complete tools who do know about it and choose to leave their friends hanging must have some hidden desire to be mysterious. Sadly, not cool enough for a sexy accent, café poetry and tortoiseshell glasses, they can only be enigmatic while online.

The vague away message is another sign of mystery-seeking (as well as pure laziness). The final method of self-expression and, with our busy schedules, probably the most integral part of the IM, the away message usually reveals the kinds of activities you enjoy. Nothing irks die-hards more, though, than an ambiguous away message. As you spend more time at Princeton and, consequently, online, your stomach turns at the vague "out" or "not here" auto-response as it mocks you with its blasé simplicity. You discover that what you really want is a stalker-friendly away message. You come to enjoy deciding on a quotation for the day or adding the suffix "-age" to the name of the place you'll be while you're away — "Fristage" is a personal favorite of mine. You cathartically type out how much your busy night is going to suck and, eliciting sympathy from all who read your away message, come back after your night of suckiness to encouraging little notes that make your week. The updated and changeable version of the answering machine, the away message allows for self-expression or simple fact relay.

The personalities we convey through our IM preferences might be incomplete, but they allow us to pretty reliably spot the funny people, the intellectuals and the wackos before even exchanging words with them. I'm not proposing that a person's online settings constitute a complete psychological profile, but what motivates us to pick our options suggests something of an IM psychology. Next time you're online — which you probably already are — see if your jock, brainiac, socially retarded or hyper friends match up with their respective settings.

Laura Berner is a freshman from Rye, N.Y.