I got home last night from Vancouver, where Tony’s shooting a TV movie for 6 weeks, and I miss him already (*cue the “awww”’s and “ewww”’s, we know how grossly in love we are!) So far, we’ve abided by the Hollywood divorce-prevention rule of not going longer than 2 weeks without seeing each other; I met him in Washington D.C. for his college roommate’s wedding at the beginning of June, and he flew me out to spend a long weekend with him last Thursday. As of press time, the wedding is still on for August 1, 2015, so I can happily endorse this rule!
I’m calling the weekend a workation, because for Tony it was (almost) all work and for me, it was all play. The production is putting Tony up in a 5-star hotel, so while he was busy shooting, I got to pretend I was a #RichKidsofInstagram and lounge by the indoor pool, celeb stalk (one of the X-MEN and a teen heartthrob who recently made you cry at the box office were also staying there) and scarf down all my favorite treats Tony had sweetly stocked the room with in anticipation of my arrival:
Wedding diet food to perfect my bikini bod. Thanks, Tone!
If you read my Dateiversary Anniversary blog, you know Tony spoils me rotten and this weekend was no different. This note was waiting for me in the hotel room next to Canadian money so I wouldn’t have to worry about exchanging mine:
I got to go back to waking up to lattes in bed:
And he’d planned the weekend around my favorite pastime: Eating. We had some of the best pizza (and fried macaroni & cheese) of our lives at Via Tevere, gelato three times at Bella Gelateria (9x if you count how many scoops I had), world-famous sushi at Tojo’s, sushi at a lot of other places, organic sno-cones and chocolate salted-caramel cake at the Whistler farmer’s market, and a delicious dinner at tourist hot spot the Cactus Club, made all the more memorable by a drunken domestic altercation between a Real Housewife-wannabe and her boyfriend/son (they were kicked out before we could figure the relationship out.) And oysters! SO MANY OYSTERS!
Friday, I got to play the part of proud fiance, visiting Tony on set. And I was so proud. Tony’s the hardest working person I’ve ever met, and has more than paid his dues. He was a janitor his first few years in L.A., worked 5 years to get into the Groundlings Main Company, tested for SATURDAY NIGHT LIVE and has gone on hundreds of auditions. And through it all, he’s remained confident, focused and dedicated. So, it was beyond special to see his face on the side of a van, hang out in his trailer tricked out with a fireplace and TV, and have people come up and tell me what I’ve known for so long: Tony is SO funny!
Not gonna lie, I spent most of the day here:
And here, with these guys:
Tony had a photo shoot Saturday, so I helped myself to cupcakes and leftover pizza for breakfast, squeezed myself into a bikini, and spent the morning by the indoor pool. That afternoon, Tony tricked me into working out by promising me more food. We ran from the hotel to our gelato spot. Then we ran through gorgeous Stanley Park to a farmer’s market. Then we ran to Cardero’s, where I ate two cocktails and a platter of oysters. Then, we finished our 5 mile loop by running (me, drunk) back to the gelato spot. (We walked back to the hotel.)
Sunday, we drove to Whistler. We stocked up at a gas station on Canadian delicacies:
Bacon flavored chips. WHAT.
And made our way into the gorgeous mountains. Tony apparently thought I was trying to be a cute “damsel in distress” when I told him of my fear of heights, probably because I gamely took selfies like this while we waited in line:
And pretended we won the Olympics at the top of the first mountain:
(I also learned cool new filters that make it look like we’re in a disaster movie!)
But Tony quickly realized how wrong he was when he insisted we do the “Peak 2 Peak” gondola ride that dangles death in your face, as you cross between Whistler and Blackcomb mountains at 1,427 feet in the air. (It’s the highest lift in the world.) Throughout the trip, I missed views like this because I was either ugly-crying, hyperventilating, or groaning like a cow in labor as I tried not to pass out:
Here’s me trying to smile:
Here’s me, knowing I SURVIVED and feeling safe enough to pose again!
Nothing cute or damsel-y about that. The upside of that traumatic experience was that we got to see bears on the chairlift ride down, the Whistler farmer’s market was in full swing at the bottom of the mountain, and we got to take an impromptu hike (ie we had to walk back to Whistler Village), as I’m pretty sure I would have shit myself if I’d had to ride that thing back.
Tony rewarded me for (sort of) overcoming my fears with 20 oysters, 3 cocktails, and a commemorative hat at Araxi, a place I will visit in my dreams it was so good. He got to watch the World Cup, and I got to shovel complimentary truffle popcorn into my face; it was win-win for us, (if not for the U.S.A. Bummer city.)
When we finally got home, we made it just before closing for more gelato:
I’m homesick for Tony, and I’m homesick for Vancouver… I fell in love with that city. It’s like a perfect combination of all the places I want to live — Lake Tahoe, NYC, and Los Angeles — where people are also nice. The sun doesn’t go down until bedtime, it rains most of the time so I don’t have to worry about soaking myself in SPF, and if I haven’t driven this point home hard enough yet, the food is insane. Like, they serve poutine at McDonald’s. I can’t wait to go back, but even more, I can’t wait for Tony to come home.
Twins! (Taking GROSS to new levels.)