Bespoke endings to my day

If I pay attention, I can usually pick out a word that has particularly jumped out in conversation or in things I read.

This week, I'm noticing a lot of "bespoke."

With British roots, the word "bespoke" means made to order or custom tailored, personalized, specialized...along those lines.

Due to factors out of our control, magazine layout yesterday ran unneccessarily long ("What the...Why is 'Veuve Clicquot' spelled two different ways in the same article!? and other such shenanigans).

Subsiding on yogurt I hastily downed that morning on my commute (20 minute walk down Broadway- hah), and a lame grilled chicken salad at a quickie lunch with my cousin who's in town, come 8 pm I was a starvin' marvin.

When I rolled into my apartment a little after ten, I was beyond interested in food: I just wanted to tuck into bed to listen to some Missy Higgins and Norah Jones.

But I picked up "Cooking for Mr. Latte"- a book my mom sent me a couple weeks ago, and was intrigued.

So I pulled out the hummus and crackers and noshed a little.

Then I came upon her chapter entitled "The Art of Dining Alone."

"In the same way that you should get massages and take naps or meditate, you should, everyone should, make a point to eat out by yourself from time to time. You should be kind enough to yourself to lavish your appetite with good food without the interruptions of company."

Wow, what a bespoke statement.

I am famous (among my friends, who am I kidding) for taking myself out to eat solo. I would highly recommend the experience to anyone. When you get over the fact that everyone is indeed not staring at you, it is actually really relaxing.

Better yet, I then found a bar of organic swiss dark chocolate with mint crisps at the back of my drawer I had forgotten about, as if it were BESPOKE for this occasion.