verbungle: California, I meant to tell you

You looked stunning this Christmas.

I can't stop thinking about you. It makes me sad being so far away from you.

You provided the perfection in what turned out to be a perfect little vacation. Got to play hoops two times with an ocean breeze assisting me on the way to the hoop.

Headed down to San Diego and saw the lights of Tijuana just a couple of Brett Favre heave 'em ups away. Avoided missing the 'last U.S. exit' exit. Ate crappy food at a crappy tourist resort in Coronado Island, but your sunshine carried the day.

Vacation reading: The Tortilla Curtain, and I felt like I was right in the middle of the book. Loved it, but wondering what part of it fulfills the 'comedy' part of the 'tragicomedy' description on the back cover?

Took Amtrak up the coast and spent a couple nights in your L.A. area with pals.

R. Lee Ermey made sure nobody tried anything funny.

One thing, California -- this train ride up your coast is a surprisingly unbeautiful trip. Whatever. I passed the hour and change reading my book and slurping my Bud and rocking out to my favorite tunes.

Got that warm beery feeling with cW and pals on a Friday night. This is as unbeery a shot as you'll see:

Man we must have been funny!

We went to a bar near cW's place called Johnny's. Legend has it that Johnny was a dude who had some money and wanted a bar near his house that he could go to every day. So he opened up Johnny's and said, "This bar will be open from 10am to 2am, every day of the year including holidays, forever." Seems like he's kept his word, and I can only assume it would be 10am to 4am if the City of Los Angeles could ever get around to addressing their bar time problem. Anyway, Johnny's was a fun place, a nice mix of people, including some people older than me, not dead-end old-timers yet, just regular people in their 40's and 50's who like to have a good time.

There was a dude there who was a little rough around the edges, nice but kind of scary, and somehow I ended up talking to him. He said he had lived in L.A. his whole life and that I'd better be careful.

"People will just shoot you around here. Watch your ass when you leave the bar tonight," he said.

Then he explained that he was at the bar with the intention of restoring his name and pride.

"Last time I was here, I got in a fight in front of my girl," he said. "Some guy clocked me, and I didn't respond. I just took it. I won't feel like a man until I find that guy and fight him again."

Good luck with that, I thought as I eased away from him. I wonder if he got his man.

The next night I met up with another friend, who, completely coincidentally, took me to...Johnny's.

It's a nice place. I tried Absinthe for the first time. These Pabst-swilling Beard-sporting hipsters are enjoying themselves, whoever they are.

But is it the only bar in Los Angeles? My initial study says maybe. You tell me, California.

Went back to San Clemente for the last couple days and spent the final afternoon on the pier.

I just stared out at the ocean and let my mind wander. You're very good at making people do that, California.

I thought about 2008, and 2009. I even thought about 1998 for awhile. I wondered how much I've changed over the years. I wondered how much I've learned.

I've learned that 1% milk is the right choice for iced coffee. Skim is fine for all other occasions.

I thought about the fact that suddenly, my appreciation for Hall and Oates is no longer ironic in the least. They had some great great songs.

I came to accept that I will never be an awesome surfer dude with no worries.

Before I even had time to soak up our final moments together, I found myself back at work in NYC, already a beaten man within the first 48 hours. Where did you go, California? You didn't even leave a note.