Greetings from the land of watery-eyed, flat-assed office workers! How goes 
the burly mountain man thing? I've been hearing second hand from Elliot that 
you're faring extremely well mentally despite some poorly crafted sleeping 
bags and a bad case of frostbite on your toes. (That second part I made up, 
but it sounded appropriate given the sleeping bag situation.) All's well 
here. As you could imagine, and probably often do, the sweeping expanse of 
people staring at computers that is Enron has changed not at all since you 
left. There are still many computers, many of them have changed positions, 
some have gone away, most we are not sad to see go. That's just the nature of 
this cutthroat business. Also on the stagnantly invariable list is the status 
of my life in relation to Enron. I am still here. I still stare at the 
computer. Every once in awhile I meander over to the dark window-less corner 
that enshrouds the IT wizards and ask them silly questions like, "What does 
it mean when I hit this button and my screen starts flashing at me like a 
disco ball, then makes this awkward shrieking noise and finally goes black?" 
They are incredibly helpful. I am still pretty much clueless about most 
things, although I've learned to talk about them with a semblance of 
authority, as in, "No, you twit, the 25 megawatt off peak deal should clearly 
be flowing across SP-15 to NP-15 because of the illiquidity of SP's market 
right now. What kind of idiot wouldn't hedge their position in California at 
a time like this?" It all sounds very exotic and important to me, which is 
why I'm still here. But I'm infinitely jealous of your wild exploits in the 
great American outdoors. I suspect my forbearance for sitting in an office 
will run out right around the middle of the summer, so I'm planning a trip to 
coincide with that meltdown. I haven't decided between a road trip through 
the western United States or just a direct flight to Paris. Both sound good, 
and way beyond my budget, therefore equally attractive. Well, I've managed to 
say practically nothing for long enough now. I do hope you're having an 
amazing time, rambling on toward the next crazy adventure on the horizon as I 
believe Jack Kerouac once wrote. We're all very proud of you here and 
constantly refer to you as "my good friend Winston who's skiing across the 
state of Wyoming, which was my idea." I'd love to hear about your trip direct 
from the source, although I know you're extremely busy out there, skiing and 
killing wild animals for sustenance and whatnot. But please do write 
back....if you can still move your fingers.

Sincerely,
Kate
(the slightly ditsy one who sits in the middle of the room and tries to look 
constantly busy)