We got married in a redwood grove the next night.

Vincent and I met through a combination of work and play. We were both coming out of long relationships: I was living in NYC, and he was living in L.A. It’s always been a struggle for me to meet someone who had the right balance of country mouse and city mouse — both rural and urban — and he had that. He’s homey, loves family, nature, hiking and animals — and he’s also this crazy, super-smart, successful artist.



I moved to L.A., and six months later we were engaged. We got married in Mill Valley, my hometown. Saturday night we had a rehearsal and champagne toast in a complete magical foggy whiteout on top of a mountain.


We got married in a redwood grove the next night. Before I walked down the aisle, I did a shot of whiskey and had an oyster. Our wedding procession was “Please, Please, Please” by The Smiths.



Vincent’s dad is a Buddhist monk, and he married us. Both our moms are Jewish, so we did some Buddhism, some Old Testament, some of our own shit. Then cocktails, dinner and full-on raging dance party.


We drove away in a Rolls Royce and went straight to bed in our hotel. The next day we slept till noon and took a cab to In-N-Out Burger, where we had breakfast. It was pouring out, so much fun. I would do the whole thing a million times over.