2001-05-09 | 2:05 p.m.

corduroy licorice liked to rub shoulders with the glitterati. he liked the way it made his skin sparkle when he wore tank tops.

***

today a really cool thing happened. i had a five-minute conversation with a complete stranger. she didn't even know she made my day.

here's the deal. today i helped finish one of the most frustrating projects i've ever worked on. this is the one that prompted me to mouth the *f* word several times in succession during a conference call. this is the one that made me consider clientcide. three other girls shared the same project and headaches, so i wanted to give them a little thank you to mark its completion.

there's a new little bakery down the street from our office, so i stopped in to pick up some cookies for the girls. as the woman behind the counter wrapped up the goodies in delicate white boxes topped with hot pink ribbon, i asked her if they had moved there from a different location. then she told me the story that made my day.

she said that she and her partner had moved here from italy. she is japanese american, but had lived there for 25 years and needed a change. she liked l.a. when she'd visit her sister and finally decided to move here. plus, her sister told her there were no good bakeries around.

she and her man (who is a baker by trade) constructed a bakery operation in a little storefront, but get this, before opening their doors, he took two months to test his recipes. why? because the quality of the flour, butter and water are different here. i did not know that. plus, she explained that baking is much more complicated than cooking...the results less predictable.

"see?" she asked, "these baci cookies are different sizes. you can never tell how things will turn out." (heh. like i care about a size flaw when that chocolate-y hazelnuttiness is melting in my mouth. as if!)

after the test period, he finally gave up on certain ingredients here and now imports them from italy. including the delictate white boxes with the clever interlocking lid.

"they only have those ugly pink boxes here, so i had to call my friend in italy to find these."

it's a simple story, even mundane, but i was fascinated. to think someone would take that much pride and care in their creations...even down to the box! such dedication to details...enhancing every aspect of the experience...and it's all paid off...their desserts are amazingly lovely to look at and mouth-watering! i left there happy to be toting surprises to the laboring gals and inspired by greatness.

***

work continues to be a stress-fest, but today i left "early" (6 p.m. ha!) to go to an advertising awards show with a few co-workers. we had to change at the office and everyone was making a fuss about how we "clean up nice."

i felt bad that more people couldn't go...especially knowing a lot of them would be working crazy late again (ascension and tv zero, i'm looking at you).

when we first got there, an air of pretention was immediately perceptible. people with attitudes, thinking they're all that and a superbowl spot. it was kinda exciting to be there in the buzzing crowd at first, especially when we realized there was an open bar. the food was decent, but no dessert. WTF?! i have to say it again, WTF!!!

oddly enough, in spite of all the wealth that was wandering around the room, there was no one there who i'd aspire to be. which is reassuring in a way. it felt empty and boring. at moments even icky. and political and dumb. pretentious people suck megawatt eggs. plus, there was only one campaign that made me think, "i wish i would have thought of that."

as we walked out, my co-worker b and i shared how guilty we felt not to be at work. how sad is that? 10 p.m. and feeling guilty. i guess 'cause we know other people were still at the office. so we had one night off and now will have to make up for it. i don't think the "free" drinks and chicken were worth it. but at least i know i'm not missing anything at those awards shows anymore.

side story: i went to use the ladies' room and there was a line of about seven women. there were three stalls, one a handicapped-accessible stall that was huge. someone was in there for a long time, then there was the hiss of a hairspray can issuing forth from said stall. *hiss* *hiss* *hiss* *hiss* *hisssss* pause *hisssssss*

i looked at the girl in the front of the line. she raised her eyebrow at me. a grumpy lady with a bladder on code yellow realized someone was using the stall to primp. there was evidently a mirror at one end of it.

"you can get dolled up out here," the lady in line declared, "there are about 17 people waiting on you. use this other mirror."

the voice from the stall said, "who me?"

"yes, you."

"oh. c'mon in. it's open."

ok. this would mean a woman would be urinating in front of a primping stranger. (ok, you guys are thinking 'so, we take a leak in front of other guys at urinals on a regular basis," but it's different for us female types. no one is even supposed to realize we have unflattering bodily functions, remember.)

eyebrow-raiser must have had to go pretty bad, 'cause she took miss *hiss* up on her offer. a few moments later (long enough for eyebrow-raiser to drop trou'), the piss-friendly miss hiss exited stage left, leaving e.r. to pee in peace.

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