Some disparate thoughts about climbing a mountain last Sunday and/or a thematic metaphor for my life at present:

I climbed a mountain, taller than the last one; I came out no less scathed. Years ago I spent over $2000 piecing together a vintage Hasselblad, which now sleeps in a basement outside Montréal. Every time I cropped a photo square I get a little sad inside, both for my lonely Hasselblad and also because I have to leave behind something I used to know. These photos were taken on whatever mountain I impatiently scaled, hoping there would be an easier path down at the end. There was no such path.

And now, the photographs.

Mount Echo, or rather a smallish hill or bump next to it that didn’t reach high enough for a name; Los Angeles, CA

When my mother was twenty-one she hung up a magazine cut-out of the 1985 Gerber baby in her bathroom cabinet, because the baby was cute and healthy and, being pregnant with her first child, my mom hoped for the same with me. The implausibility of a half-Black woman hoping for a very Caucasian baby was raised to my mother by some, but months later I was born about as identical to this Gerber baby as someone who shares no common genes could be. (My sister, being the second child, did not get the poster-to-child treatment and was born much more true to race than I was. See also: mixed race issues and/or Rashida Jones.)

The photo fell behind the sink after that, and lives or lived at my parents’ first home until some new family renovates that early-80s master bathroom.

Make resolutions; the most incredible things can happen if you want something badly enough. It’s going to be a good year.

Me, 6 months; vintage Gerber baby ad and abuela, my maternal grandmother

Last Sunday we drove to Vegas for Drake’s 25th birthday. I totally checked into the hotel wearing that Selena-video outfit, whatever.

On my way back from Montreal I had to travel with six of my boss’ suitcases, which were all, every single one of them, lost by the time we landed in LA. The most stressful part of the whole thing is that I had packed fresh St-Viateur bagels* and cheese curds, the latter of which were not going to survive a luggage chase-down longer than 24 hours.

When I got to work the next morning the lost suitcases had already been delivered to our lobby by some air travel fairy, and in the following days we ate through all but one bagel.

When you’re a full day of air travel away from Montréal bagels, this is how you eat your last one.

• St. Viateur bagel, toasted
• creme fraiche
• capers
• smoked salmon
• flower pepper (from Trader Joe’s–actually all of this is, minus the bagel. Love TJ’s)

Serve with tapioca affogato, which has a real recipe here, but I just made the lazy way.

• one single-serving cup tapioca pudding (I used Kozy Shack No Sugar Added Tapioca because I don’t like too-sweet coffee)
• few tablespoons sweetened condensed milk (I used Trader Joe’s squeeze tube which is going to make me so huge)
• two shots espresso

Mix until everything’s just one creamy colour

* St-Viateur is the best in Montreal, although I will concede to the critics that Fairmont Bagel does have better flavours, although if you want a flavoured bagel you’re probably missing the point. Also, Americans, they now deliver to the US, if you’re interested.

photobooth set taken at Gare Centrale de Montréal, at 7am before a train to Québec City. The booth has been overhauled since I was in highschool and would take pictures here with my Dad and sister while waiting for the train back to Ottawa. (Dad couldn’t join me this time, he was busy buying dog food.)

I bought myself a pretty nice camera for my birthday this year, but the reality is that the camera i have with me the most is always going to be my Blackberry. And even though I have an American job, I’m a pretty fierce nationalist, so you can’t take my Blackberry with your Instagrams and apps. If my Blackberry doesn’t take a solid photo I’ll drop a clipping mask on that shit. (Note to self and/or RIM: start crowdsourced photography app/site for Blackberry users that uses super trendy circular clipping masks in the same way Instagram uses vintage-inspired filters. Before circles become off-trend, throw in some double exposure shit, whatever who cares.)

Here are a few photos on my Blackberry from various trips I’ve taken in the past few months. Some far, some just a short drive away. And circle clipping masks just really are so on-trend, so why not. All of these were shot on my Blackberry Style, which is a flip phone / BB hybrid that makes everyone say, “Wait, is that a Blackberry?” and then look/touch/use it like it’s 2007 and I just flipped open my RAZR while they’re using some Flinstone-y brick phone. (See also, this SNL sketch.)

Couldn’t afford the bayou tour, took the (free!) ferry; New Orleans

I love the lettuce in these flower beds; Toronto | The Five Roses sign is a train-commuter’s landmark; Montreal

Spent the only grey day in months at the Getty recently; Los Angeles | Mulholland Drive, months previous; Los Angeles

Just a quick, whispery update: if you’re reading this on Google Reader (or any other lovely RSS feed client) please take a glance below to see my Mazzy Star, October rain, same-sweater-daily, and so much coffee -inspired layout update. I’m calling the theme “October in Québec,” because that’s where I am while I’m doing all of the above.

And, since this took up most of my lunch, I’ll leave you with it, mistakes and all.

I love collecting castoffs and forgotten pieces to the point that I have a hard time going to estate sales without picking up every single stupid trinket because “it looks lonely” or “it has sad eyes.” I have a weird vintage spring toy horse in my car because I found him on the junk table at an estate sale and felt compelled to save him from a probable garbage death (see also, plot of Toy Story 3).

I’ve been in a nesting mood since moving last month, so I figured I’d show some of the castaways I’ve rescued and turned into my own. I also haven’t been doing much writing lately, so I figured now is a fine time to get a bit wordy.

I haven’t had a real bed since I moved out of my mom’s place at 18. And when I got to LA I didn’t have the money to buy a box spring, so I’ve just been resting my mattress on the floor, or various other pieces of furniture. This is my first Los Angeles furniture purchase (shamefully, I’ve been here almost two years now) and I got it from the most adorable couple in Echo Park.

Please now direct your gaze to the faux fur blanket in the bottom left, which I wanted so badly but it sold out in Toronto as soon as it hit a sale price I could afford. A few months later my mom surprised me with one for Christmas. She called every Loblaws in Ottawa (Americans, it’s a grocery store chain that has very impressive lifestyle, home, and fashion offerings) and managed to find one at some crazy clearance price, then did that thing moms do when they get you something cool but don’t want you to know, where they chastise you for “foolishly” not purchasing one when you still could because “of course it was going to sell out”, so by the time you receive your gift, your self-worth is completely shot and you know you’re completely worthless at acquiring anything in even the most basic hunter and gatherer form. Just my mom? Maybe.

blankets, clockwise from top left: 1) SLOW Melrose, 2) estate sale, 3)Loblaws Canada (thanks, mom!); sheets, Target; bed, Ikea via Craigslist.

I burn a lot of incense, but not in a cheesy hippie way. I bought this cedar and pine incense at Brook Farm General Store (buy some!) but lost the wooden holders they came with, so I got this most amazing ever incense burner for a great price at an otherwise overpriced estate sale. The Santa Maria Carta d’Armenia were definitely not purchased at a really great price, not gunna lie, but I’m a Taurus so I throw money at anything that smells incredible without even counting it.

Side story, my first job out of highschool was at this now defunct lifestyle offshoot of the Club Monaco brand. The buyers were incredible and really sourced a lot of high-quality pieces with significant history–design or otherwise. Up until that job I had very little exposure to What Rich People Buy, like really buy. We carried Santa Maria Novella. I put it on my wish list of things to buy when I had money. Not that I had or have any interest in having loads of money, but I think when you work service jobs for a class other than your own there’s a certain desire to imitate. Anyway, when the place closed down I put the cost of a small kitchenette-sized teak table and two chairs on my Amex. It is my first ever non-Ikea furniture purchase, and to date one of the most treasured things I ever purchased. I finally paid that credit card off four years later, and the table is sitting in my father’s basement, hopefully aging and collecting a bit more water damage.

incense burner, estate sale; Santa Maria Novella Carta d’Armenia (incense papers), Gold Bug, Pasadena, who sell a large range of the Santa Maria Novella line. I also bought a bar of Jasmine soap–whoops!

This leather suitcase is one of my favourite LA finds because I was driving around Melrose with Nichole, got lost looking for parking, and saw this thing sitting on the sidewalk at an impromptu garage sale. In my head I decided I would spend up to $60 before walking away. The woman sold it to me for $5. There’s nothing else storied in this picture, the baskets come from some discount store and I felt like my mom when I bought them. My mom has a basket for everything (just kidding, mom! You only have a few baskets!).

leather suitcase, estate sale; wicker baskets, TJ Maxx or Ross; curtains, charity shop; faux fur blanket, Loblaws Canada.

I’m very much into cycling, and pre-LA Michelle would be ashamed at the little amount of actual road time I get. Vintage Raleighs are my favourite, possibly just because I incidentally bought a Raleigh as my first adult bike and that’s the girl I discovered cycling on. I bought this one a couple months ago with the original Brooks saddle and an internal 3-speed hub. I changed the tires to cream with cream walls. Oh! The crank! Omigosh I wish you could see how nice this crank is. This bike is a 1967, almost entirely original, and it makes me so sad that I don’t ride this thing as much as I should. Imagine anything that you do daily, that means a lot to you, then imagine barely doing it for the next 18 months. So ashamed.

denim jacket, Nichole’s; candle holder lanterns, estate sale; vintage Raleigh, Craigslist.

We’re currently solving the grass problem, but otherwise we have a great garden. We’ve found a wonderful nursery Bellafontaine Nursery, if you’re in North-East LA!) and I’ve spent a very unhealthy amount of money on seeds, soil, and plants in the past month. No spoilers, I’ll have to show a 6 week progress report on everything we’re growing right now!

garden in progress.

Everyone thinks I’m such a cat person but I’m really not at all. I got Maria at the Humane Society with my ex-boyfriend because the first few cats we picked out were not spayed or had issues we weren’t prepared to deal with. Maria was kind of ugly, she was napping in the corner of her little cage cubicle and all her fat had fallen through the grate into the cage below her. Naturally, we took her home within the hour. Since getting off the mean streets of Toronto, she’s moved to Montreal, and now LA. Even though everyone tells me to throw her in the garbage, I’ve gotten attached. She comes with me now.

cat, Toronto Humane Society.

I’m pretty superstitious. When we lived in Winnipeg I had a dream catcher and sweetgrass in my room. When Nichole and I moved into this place we got a weird vibe and decided to do holy water cleanses and sage smudging rituals. This is probably deeply embarrassing and I should stop talking about it now.

My ceiling has a weird dot pattern that reminds me of the night sky. Since I don’t have a main light I crafted this lofty (har.) plan to cover my ceiling in tiny string lights to make a facsimile night sky. Look, if there’s one thing you should know about me, it’s that I’m fucking lazy. Does this shit look like the night sky? Nope. Am I okay with that? Damn right I am.

This purse was a surprise Christmas gift from Nichole since I had been trolling flea markets and vintage stores for months previous in search of a Dooney and Bourke bag. I love it.

sweetgrass, Hollywood Farmer’s Market (Sundays, 8am to 1pm); string lights, Target; Dooney and Bourke knockoff, Brockvill Goodwill via Nichole.