World Wide DOES NOT mean California!

 

Look at little Ping Po Ng above. He sleeps so soundly on that concrete stair. Oh Ping, you are truly a little wonder wrapped in clothing styled by Genghis Khan himself. Although it appears that little Ping is either acting or performing an almost impossible act he is doing neither. Ping, you see, has developed the ability to sleep anywhere at any time through good old third world attrition!

My children do not have this ability.

Why would the children of some jet set, Los Angeles, Schmooze-bot 5000 like myself need it? Surely there is no circumstance in life that would require to sleep in such a manner. That is unless California does not qualify as World Wide.

"Wagner, just what the shit are you on about?" you ask yourself. Well, we hired a moving company called World Wide Overseas Moving Service to move our personal effects down here to the sunny State of California. Now, I know that California is not "Overseas". That is, unless you count Trout Lake in East Vancouver which was almost directly south of our place. It's much less a lake and more a puddle that junkies and homeless wash their stinky welfare cheque asses in. I did, however think that California lay somewhere is in this wide world and therefore our move would qualify as "World Wide". I was an idiot.

When I asked Karen Slater, our contact at WWOMS how long it would take to ship our stuff south of the border she stated it could take anywhere from three to fourteen days. Today is fourteen days since they picked our stuff up. Her response yesterday when we emailed here about the whereabouts of our household goods was, " I still do not have an answer at this stage we are waiting for confirmation when driver is to load.  Operations thought your shipment was loading late last week but the vanline has another driver picking up."

We have nothing in our beautiful apartment. Well, we do have some grocery bags and some small stuff that we bought and we also have an amazing HD DVR and over four hundred channels of viewing goodness. Now if I could just plug that HDMI cable into my brain I could see what was on television as my TV is sitting in Vancouver... somewhere.

This brings us back little Ping. We are all sleeping in one large blow up bed. Oh the comfort! I love feeling everyone else's movement and I love, LOVE being kicked repeatedly in the junk by my three year old. Unlike Ping, my daughter cannot sleep on concrete stairs. She can barely even sleep on the blow up mattress and by extension this means that neither can I. So every morning when I wake at half past six as the California sun  shines through the curtainless windows and burns a whole through my eyelids I drag my tired, ill-rested ass out of bed and make coffee on my espresso machine. Espresso machine? Yes, I packed it in the car and drove it down knowing I would need it in short order and that life would be insufferable without it. Yes, I was a LA ass-bag before I even moved to LA.

I guess this is the one thing that has gone horribly wrong with our move. It was the one thing outside of visa approval which hinged purely on the performance of another and in this case that other has dropped the ball.

World Wide Overseas Moving Service. You are neither, world wide, over seas, moving at a rate which is acceptable and you most certainly aren't showing me any service. Kiss my ass. Kiss it long and kiss it hard.