2005 Christmas Letter

Season’s Greetings

Some people are known for their great contributions to society like libraries or foundations. Others are known for curing terrible diseases or displaying great courage in times of crisis. I am known for my Christmas letter. We take what we can get.

As many of you know, every year I like to try at least one new thing. Perhaps it’s my inexhaustible tendency to say, “How hard can it possibly be?” Or perhaps it’s that I am just a slow learner and haven’t noticed how often those words have gotten me into trouble. Regardless, the Christmas letter would be lost without this fatally optimistic tendency of mine.

Joining the information age: For those of you who have lost their scorecards, I now sell business telephone systems for DataTel Communications in Meridian. (I am not even on a fundraising board anymore, so you do not have to screen my calls any longer—unless of course it’s for personal reasons) When one is selling technology, I feel one should embrace it, or at least give it a reassuring hug now and then. So, I cancelled my residential home phone service and ordered broadband service for internet. The result? No one can find me now except spammers and pop-up ads, but they can do so really quickly. So, time for Toni’s annual contact information update:

Work phone: 401-2110

Work fax: same number—how cool is that?

Camping in the rain: Until this year, the only camping I have done as an adult has been catered. This summer I went camping in the rain in a leaky tent without so much as an air mattress. The evening of being one with nature was followed by an early morning flat-water kayak to see wildlife that had the sense to sleep in, coffee the consistency of mud, and deep fried bread dough for breakfast. For those of you slyly smiling—of course there was a man involved. Why would I think up such an activity on my own? Actually, I’m planning to return next year, as the group we went with had a Dutch oven cooking contest, and the food produced by 60 people trying to outdo each other is well worth a little rain and no sleep—although the air mattress is nonnegotiable.

Riding on a train: Apart from subways and “light rail,” I had never been on a train, since during my lifetime taking Amtrak was considered less of a transportation option and more of a death-wish. So this summer I went with some friends on the Thunder Mountain Line’s wine tasting train ride. For those of you who might be interested in trying it, I may suggest that you stick with the white wines. Not that the red wines are bad, but the train jerks a lot, and white wine stains are less noticeable.

Halloween costumes One day the aforementioned man (who would probably prefer to remain anonymous throughout the entire letter but whom we’ll call “Andy”) and I were chatting and he suggested having a Halloween party. Having A) consumed too much caffeine, B) forgotten how much work it was 4 years ago when I had one, or C) wishing to retaliate for aforementioned camping trip, I suggested we host a Murder Mystery party for Halloween. It was probably due to option A, because I went on to volunteer to make our costumes. I had learned (and I use the word loosely) to sew last year and was honestly feeling a little too smug about my Martha Stewart abilities. Yet again I uttered those fatal words that have always gotten me in over my head—How hard can it be? Well NOW I have the answer. INCREDIBLY. Costumes are after all outfits that you would never normally be seen in, composed of fabrics that you would never make normal clothes out of and which have no purpose than to make you look different than you would normally ever appear. At what other time in my life would a strange net-type fabric with red bats ever seem like a good idea for anything other than perhaps to catch fish that have been taking hallucinogens? I spent the entire month of October either at work or in the sewing room swearing that there is such a thing as being overly optimistic. The Murder Mystery party itself was great fun—we had 14 participants, all of whom dressed up and thoroughly played up their parts. For a small “consideration” I have not published the pictures.

This year I learned:

• If you have access to a line truck, moving a piano isn’t too difficult
• Once they know you’re seeing someone, men aren’t as quick to come to your rescue
• In Idaho, “perennial” and “annual” are only suggestions that plants may choose to disregard
• Those in outside sales were not meant to host “soup night” every single month
• Once you’ve been in a book club long enough, reading books is purely optional
• Shrubs can die from neglect—unless they’re junipers.
• It doesn’t matter when you plant them—leeks choose for themselves when they’re going to grow
• Flat-water kayaking is almost exactly like sea-kayaking, but without the whales
• If they are throwing a surprise party for you, your friends will avoid you for the month leading up to your birthday, leaving you to celebrate your birthday with a bunch of people you’re no longer speaking to.
• As soon as you find a job you really enjoy, everyone else wants to hire you.
• White couches with a black cat is a really bad idea
• Do not buy Russian cookbooks. If it’s based on famine, it isn’t “cuisine.”
• Handing out toys instead of candy for Halloween makes you the coolest adult on the block
• The first time an English major finds herself having a conversation about routers, cabling, and VoIP, it’s shocking.
• No matter how many things you fix on a house, there’s always something else that breaks.
• Naan is too much work to make at home. Indian restaurants exist for a reason.
• Dressing up as a clown and taking candy around to businesses requires a great deal of courage and caffeine—not necessarily in that order.

I hope 2005 has been a great year for you as well. May 2006 be full of happiness and adventure for all of you!

Best wishes,

Toni