Rumors of My Demise Are Greatly Exaggerated...

Jet d'eau and Carousel : Geneva, CH

(Click image to enlarge.)

Still plugging away in Switzerland. My original contract ended on June 30 and I started a new one the next day. I'm here at least through August 31, but possibly longer, if I want. The $64,000 question is: do I want?

Creeping irrationalities slither in and make me doubt myself and whether I'm a value-add. Solid rationalities stand opposite and say, of course I am. Somewhere in the middle lies the truth.

Anyway--getting back on track with this sad and lonely blog, today is Photo Friday. The photo above was taken last Friday, at the edge of Geneva's harbor at the southern end of Lac Leman--Europe's largest freshwater lake.

Happy (Photo) Friday, friends!

In Which I Go to the Pharmacy in France to Pick Up My Prescription...

And Am Utterly Gobsmacked by the Price...

I don't know whether to write this as a story or as an open letter to President Obama. Knowing that he already believes we need universal health care, I doubt anything I'm about to say would make a difference or would move him any faster. Perhaps the people I need to be writing to are in Congress, but they're a bunch of useless, bickering schlubs, so I guess I'll just go with the story and hope that maybe, just maybe, we'll acheive univeral coverage for all Americans before the turn of the next century. One can dream, right?

One of the requirements for working at the organization I'm working at is, you have to have a basic physical. I wasn't able to do that before I left the States, so I had to do it here. Fortunately, the org where I work has a fully staffed, on site clinic. So, I made an appointment and had a physical. Part of the process includes meeting with the on site doctor, which I did. Lovely lady whose English wasn't that great, but who spoke French and German. My French sucks (read: is totally non-existent except for a few words like hello, thank you, and wonderful!), but I can do German, so that's what we did.

Anyway--I mentioned to her my history of migraine and told her that I take, as needed, a lovely little pill called Relpax. I told her I had one pill left and wondered if she could write me a script, because I'd left my script at home. She promptly wrote it out and then advised me to pick it up at a pharmacy in France because it would be cheaper than getting it in Switzerland.

Bear in mind two things here. First, I'm self-employed, which means I'm one of the more than 40 million Americans without health insurance. Second, when I have to pick up a prescription, I have to pay for it out-of-pocket. As a result, my medicine is very, very expensive and I'm very careful about when I use it. In the U.S., six tablets of 40 mg Relpax--the standard dispensed dosage--is between US$190 and US$230 a box. That's about US$32-US$38 per pill. Needless to say, I only take one if I absolutely have to, which is further to say that if the two Advil migraine and two regular Advil I take together don't work at the outset of a migraine, I'm reduced to taking one of my very expensive pills.

When the doctor said, "Go to France; it's cheaper," I figured "cheaper" would mean I'd be paying around €110 - €150 (around US$150 - US$210) for the stuff. In preparation for that, I pulled out my Visa card and braced myself. Then, I handed the script to the pharmacist. She went behind the wall, pulled it off the shelf, did a little bit of this and that on the computer, handed it to me and said, "€28,80."

*blink* *blink*

"Pardon? €28,80?" I asked in my best Franglish.

"Oui. €28,80."

I turned to my friend Sue, who comes with me to provide language services when I go to things like pharmacies and grocery stores and the like. "Did she say €28,80? As in two-eight? Twenty-eight euros?"

Sue confirmed that, yes, in fact, the pharmacist said "€28,80."

I think at that point, I had an out-of-body experience. I said, "€28,80?" then looked at the pharmacist and said, "In the United States, I'd pay $200 for these." Now it was her turn for an out-of-body experience. Sue had to translate that to her, despite her good English.

So, here's my question, ladies and gentlemen. Why can I get my migraine medication for US$40.44 in Europe--essentially the price of ONE pill in the States--but it costs me nearly US$200 in the United States for the exact same thing?!

Can someone please explain this inequity to me? Do pharmaceutical companies fleece us like this because they know they can?

Needless to say, I think I'm moving to France. At the very least for my pills, if nothing else. Forget the good butter and the good bread and the access to excellent chocolate, I want my pills.

And now, I'll go away. But before I do, I'm calling the doctor at the clinic and asking her to write me a script for 36 pills. €175 is still cheaper than I'd ever pay in the US.

Buffalo? In Switzerland?!

Yoda-lay-hee-huh?!

So, I'm in Basel this weekend, visiting my friends Mr. and Mrs. Swizzies. On the road to Basel, we passed a pasture or two or ten. (This is Switzerland, you know. You can't help but pass a bucolic pasture or two or ten when you're on the road. Anyway...) At one point, I glance over to the right and there are buffalo.

Let me repeat that. Buffalo.

Buffalo in Switzerland.

I drove across the great American plains in March--through South Dakota and Wyoming, to be precise--and I did not see a single buffalo on the entire trip.

I travel over 5,000 from Seattle to Geneva and I see buffalo.

Go figure.

P.S. I would have taken a picture, but I was busy driving 120 kph on the autobahn. Doing a drive-by shooting seemed like a bad idea. Photo copyright: First People.

In Which I Learn to Navigate in Three Languages, And None of Them Well

I've been in Geneva now for nearly a week. Still a little jet-lagged and trying to adapt to working in an office where air conditioning is not the norm. Plus, I don't speak French, so that's its own challenge. Still, I'm having a lovely time and am hoping this leads to a longer-term gig. All I know is, I don't want to blow this opportunity and I'm feeling a little gun shy from my last three jobs in D.C.--all of which did not end positively, but from which I learned a great deal.


Saturday, Dr. Lala and I (Dr. Lala's the friend I'm staying with in her home in the French countryside) went to the farmer's market in Geneva. I've seen some beautiful produce at markets when I lived in California, but this market put all those to shame. I found four varieties of radishes, five kinds of pineapple, three types of bananas, six kinds of strawberries, not to mention the countless varieties of mushrooms, artichokes, and aubergines to be had. Throw in a few cheese mongers and bread stands, as well as a couple of Basque butchers carving ham taken from pigs that are raised on nothing but black acorns, and you have a gastronome's heaven. And a photographer's, too!


Scattered throughout the fruit, vegetable, bread, cheese, and meat stands were flower vendors. Oh la la! The flowers, mon amis. The flowers. I spent a good fifteen minutes watching and photographing one couple who were working with the flower vendor to create a bouquet of roses and peonies and greenery that were stunning. But what struck me as much, if not more, than the flowers was the couple. I tried to photograph them in a way that captured the intimacy of their relationship without cluttering the picture with noise and busyness. I have to say, I think I'm kind of proud of the results.


I'm not going to write a lot here about where I work, except to say that what I'm doing is timely and collaborative and I'm enjoying it. The other day, I was in a meeting where only three of us were native English speakers. The rest of the participants were from Vietnam, Japan, Korea, Germany, Italy, The Netherlands, and France. What was exciting was watching all of these people from various cultures and languages work beyond their cultural differences and come together to do good for the people of the world. Pretty dang cool, if you ask me!


I'd love to send postcards to folks, but the damn things cost a fortune over here--CHF 1 or about $1.20/card. No thanks! To see more of what I'm seeing as I'm over here, visit D.C. Confidential.

Photo copyright: D.C. Confidential, 05/09

New (Temporary) Job Opportunity

Hiking the paths at the base of El Capitan in Yosemite National Park last Wednesday, my cell phone rang. On the other end, a contact of mine at a client I have at a multi-national, intergovernmental agency. Would I be interested, she asked, in coming to Geneva, Switzerland, ASAP for at least a month or more to be an on-site editor and writer for them?

Um. YES!

Problem, though. I was still nearly 1,000 miles from my final destination and my passport was expired. The result: we spent Monday in San Francisco having my passport expedited, then finished driving up to Langley, Washington. I arrived Friday night (May 15) and am trying to get some of my boxes unpacked while also trying to pack for a six week stay in Geneva.

I'm bummed not to be starting my Whidbey Island Confidential blog and I still have five or six posts to put up on my D.C. Confidential blog finishing up our road trip across America. On the other hand, I'M GOING TO GENEVA, SWITZERLAND! Yoda-lay-hee-hoo!

So, I'll be blogging from Geneva and photographing life in Switzerland, France (where I'll be living), and any other countries I happen to visit during my days off. Stay tuned...

SHE LIVES!

Jefferson's Monticello--the first stop on our road trip

Yes, it's true. The rumors about my continued existence are factual. I'm still alive. And still on the road.

For those who are curious--morbidly or otherwise--we left Washington on April 18. Three weeks and a day later, we're still on the road. Thus far, we've been to the following places:

Headstones in the abbey cemetery at
St. Bernards in Cullman, Alabama

Charlottesville, VA; Asheville, NC; Moore, SC; Atlanta, GA; Birmingham, AL; Meridian, MS; New Orleans and Vacherie, LA; San Antonio, Johnson City, Coleman, Glen Cove, Midland, and Odessa, TX; Carlsbad, Santa Fe, Las Trampas, Taos, and Acoma/Sky City, NM; Flagstaff, Sedona, and the Grand Canyon, AZ; Bakersfield, Yosemite, Cordelia, Fairfield, Concord, Berkeley, and San Francisco, CA.

The red rocks of Sedona, Arizona

Along the way, we've stayed with friends and family, as well as in a few Best Westerns and Motel 6s. In South Carolina, we stayed with my high school buddy, Senga Campbell and her partner Joni Casper. In Birmingham, we stayed with fellow photoblogger Virginia Jones.

The Acoma Pueblo in New Mexico

In New Orleans, we walked Bourbon Street and haven't been the same since. In Coleman and Glen Cove, we met my paternal grandmother's 93-year old sister, saw the farmstead where my grandmother and her four siblings grew up, and visited the graves of my great-grandparents and my great aunts. In Flagstaff, we stayed with Maya's parents.

My former mission companion and good friend,
Heidi Chartrand

In Bakersfield, we caught up with the only companion from my stint as an LDS missionary with whom I stay in contact--Heidi Chartrand. In Cordelia, we visited with my 95-year old grandmother and found her be more lucid and healthy than her 93-year old sister back in Texas.

Peppers a la Rothko in Taos, New Mexico

Over in Berkeley, I caught up with my dear friend and soon-to-be mother Thea Hillman. Then we went to the city and had dinner at my all time favorite restaurant in the whole wide world: Ti Couz. And last night and tonight, we've stayed with friend and fellow blogger Sideon and his partner Toz.

The water tower and windmill on the old farmstead where
my grandmother grew up in Glen Cove, Texas

By the end of the trip we'll have also been to Navarro, Fort Bragg, and Trinidad, CA; and Florence and Portland, OR. In the process of the last leg, we'll be staying with Cele on the Oregon Coast and seeing one of my Scary Feminist friends, JaneAnne, in Portland.

Church at Las Trampas, New Mexico

It's been a great trip so far. We kicked it off by seeing Jefferson's Monticello. That led us to the Biltmore Estate and Gardens--home of the Vanderbilts. Then we stopped in Atlanta for 15 minutes to see Stone Mountain. Virginia took us to see the Ave Maria Grotto in Cullman, Alabama.

Shan Little who makes art out of scrap metal

In Mississippi, we met a lesbian named Shan who makes art out of 55 gallon drum lids. In New Orleans, I was propositioned by a tuba player and we visited Oak Alley Plantation where we watched a young man propose to his girlfriend.

Lipan Point at the Grand Canyon

We've seen the Alamo, Carlsbad Caverns, the Grand Canyon, Yosemite, and two or three pueblos. We've had great hotel rooms and utter dives, fabulous wifi and crappy wifi. We've stayed with friends who have kids or grandkids and friends who have dogs and cats.

El Capitan and Half Dome in Yosemite National Park

I have a stack of unwritten postcards just dying for a home. If you'd like one, email me your address and I'll send you one. In the mean time, hope you enjoy this short collection of photos from the last three weeks. If you want to see more than this, visit D.C. Confidential.

My 95-year old grandmother

Photo copyright: D.C. Confidential

Every Hour Should Be Happy Hour!

So, I guess I'm gonna have a happy hour before I go. Sort of my way to connect with as many of you as possible before I leave town and head west. If I have an email address for you, I'll email you the location. If you'd like to join us--Wicked H, Liz, et al.,--drop me an email and I'll send you the undisclosed location.

Basic details to note...

When: Monday, April 13
Time: 5:30 p.m. - 7:30 p.m.
Who: Friends and fabulous bloggers
Where: Check your email or drop me a line and I'll tell you.
Why: Because I like you! Won't you be, won't you be, won't you be my neighbor? Oh, sorry. Lapsed into Mr. Rogers there...

In Which An Opportunity Presents Itself and I Journey Westward...

So, I've mentioned here and there in fits and starts that change is afoot in my life. This change involves a whole new geographical location for at least the next 12 months.

Simply put, I'm moving to Langley, Washington.

Langley, for those who aren't familiar with the Other Washington, is not the location of CIA Headquarters. It is a quaint little artists' haven on the southern end of the fifth longest island in the contiguous United States. For any of you with a military background, and especially those of you in the Marines or the Navy, Langley is situated on Whidbey Island, which is home to a naval air station on the northern end.

How did I come to this point where I'm moving away from D.C., you ask?

Seems last year, a friend of mine inherited a house, a cottage, and some property from her late aunt and her partner. Said friend tried to sell the house, the cottage, and the property, but as the market has been less than favorable, she's been unsuccessful. Sure, it's a fixer-upper, but we're talking nearly two acres of real estate with a four bedroom, two bathroom house and an adjacent cottage for less than half a mil.

Anyway--that's not the point. Or, actually it is the point. The house/cottage/acreage wasn't selling, so the friend took it off the market. In November, we were at the Mormon Temple protesting Prop. 8 when she turned to me, told me about the house, and asked, "Do you know anyone who would be interested in living in the house for a year or so for free?"

Um, hello?!?! ME. I would be very interested.

That, in a nutshell, is what I'll be doing for the next 12 months. Living in a cottage on Whidbey Island in the town of Langley for free. Rock on, right?

I'm going to keep this blog going, because moving to the Left Coast does not diminish my interest in things D.C. Plus, I'll be back for family visits and business. I'm keeping my house here and renting it out for now. I will not, however, be starting a new blog.

Well, that's not true. I've set up a blog for my photography, but that's all. I won't be starting a new place to rant and rave or spout forth or whatever. I'll still be here, signing in as Tewkesy and being as snarky as ever. Or maybe not.

Maybe the clean air, the Cascades, island life, and uncongested traffic will give me back my sweet spirit and I'll be pleasant and jovial all the time. Or not.

I'll be back in a day or two with my top five reasons to love and hate Washington, as well as my top five must-sees-in-Dee-Cee.

In the meantime, check out Whidbey Island Confidential if you want to see where I'm living and the things I'm experiencing in photos.

And now the question is, can I squeeze in a final happy hour before I hit the road on April 15?

Someone Needs a Lesson in Headline Composition

In my spam folder this morning is an email with this as the subject line:

"Tired of Paying Through the Nose for Boner Medicine?"

Lordy, but I love a good mixed metaphor.

Idiots.

Doing Lunch

Sikh Lunch

Took this photo today while I was downtown and waiting to meet a friend for a bite to eat at The Brown Bag at 14th & K.

Happy (Photo) Friday, everyone!


Photo copyright: D.C. Confidential, 03/09