My son and I are taking an airplane trip today to visit my parents – his grandparents – and that made me think about how a Broke-Ass Mom would do it? How would a Broke-Ass Mom survive an airplane ride (alone) with a child without bringing all their toys, ten bottles, a carload of food, fifteen diapers, a carton of wipes, and ten videos plus a portable DVD player?

To survive an airplane ride, albeit a short one, say under two hours, a Broke-Ass Mom could skate by with a few (small) good books, two diapers, a handful of wipes, one very large (by toddler/baby standards) lunch, a bottle full of water (to be bought once past security), and a change of clothes (because you just never know). The lunch we will be bringing consists of two peanut butter sandwiches (the extra just in case we are delayed), carrots (takes a nice long time to chew these which could take the whole trip), apples (same benefit as the carrots), and maybe a box of raisins (This is a treat for my son, so try to think of a treat for your child that takes awhile to eat). For books, I always go as small as possible (We LOVE the Nutshell Library by Maurice Sendak!), and I try to choose ones he hasn’t seen in awhile. The more things there are to look at on the pages, the better because it gives you something to talk about. All these items should fit easily into one backpack. Do yourself a favor and check the rest of your luggage.

We luckily don’t need a car seat for our trip because my parents have one, and we’re taking the Ergo (I’m wearing it, and he’s riding in it) and mass transportation to get to the airport. We also are going sans stroller. I figure if you’re travelling to a place where a car is your main mode of transportation, why bother with a stroller? In our checked luggage, we’ll be bringing additional clothes, pjs, our “lovey”, plus the ever-important Zebra and Bunny. I’ll squeeze all of this into a rolling suitcase so I can drag it behind me. Hopefully, where you’re going has some toys for your child to play with; if not, just cross your fingers that whomever you’re visiting will be interesting enough.

The most important thing we’re bringing is our new travel bed. He has gotten too big for the Graco Pack N’ Play, so finally, after two plus years of research we settled on the Phil and Ted’s Travel Bed. The great thing about this travel bed, besides the fact that it only weighs seven pounds, is that it’s fifty-one inches long as a bed that packs down to a mere twenty-four inches. A rule of thumb: if you’re buying something that you’ll use for more than two years, then it MIGHT be worth buying new, otherwise, for God’s sake, buy it used. This travel bed can feasibly last longer than two years, but perhaps your five-year-old might prefer sleeping on a bed?

That should do it. The key is “less is more”, and this phrase has never rung so true. The more you bring the harder it is on you. Try to think about what you REALLY need, and not what you want. Remember to enjoy yourself; it can be fun, I promise!

Photo by: IstockPhoto wojciech_gajda

This Valentine’s Day, you want to impress your date, prove to them you have been listening and that you remember what they like. But you gotta do it on a budget. Here are some quick ideas to explore when it comes to planning your weekend.

Fitness Date

Impress your date with your yoga skills (or with the fact that you would try yoga) at the JCC in Manhattan. Saturdays in February (except Feb. 18th) they are offering FREE Yin Yoga classes starting at 7:15pm. Center your mind and body so you can focus the rest of your night on the mind and body of your date as you share wheat grass shots (or whatever other healthy snack you choose to indulge in).
JCC in Manhattan
334 Amsterdam Ave (at 76th St.)
Saturdays 7:15pm
[UWS]

Comedy Date

What better way to guarantee a good time then to get your date laughing? The Upright Citizen Brigade‘s weekly Sunday night ASSSSCAT 3000 is not only known to be hilarious but also to have famous SNL alums and comedians drop in to play along. Hit up the 7:30pm show and try your luck on the stand-by line for the FREE 9:30pm show; two laughs for the price of one. Added bonus: cheap drinks.
Upright Citizens Brigade Theater
307 West 26th St. (between 8th & 9th Ave.)
Sundays 7:30pm & 9:30pm
[Midtown]

Vegan Date

Your date’s so environmentally conscious they won’t even eat animal crackers. Show them your support and take them to the Vegan Valentine’s Shop Up market. Stop by the FREE market on Sunday for vegan treats and environmentally friendly wares. Don’t forget to take your free copy of VegNews magazine so that you can keep updated on all news vegan and impress them all through the year.
Pine Box Rock Shop
12 Grattan St., Bushwick
Sunday, Feb. 12th, 12-6pm
[Bushwick] 

High Brow Theater Date

Your date moved here from Indiana to pursue the Great White Way. Let them know that you know where it all began: the classics. Playing Moliere, three one-act comedies by Moliere performed by the New York Classical Theatre, will be live at the World Financial Center for FREE. Watch the French playwright’s take on comedy as you debate the proper spelling of theater (or is it theatre?).
WFC Winter Garden
2 Vesey Street
February 4-17th (Open Rehearsals)
February 21-22nd (Previews)
February 23rd – March 11th (Performances)
All Shows 7pm
[Financial District] 

Random Date

Want to bring your date to something kind of random but still interesting and maybe slightly artsy? Okamoto Studio will be turning blocks of ice into works of art from 11am-3pm on Saturday for FREE. There will be family friendly activities and hot chocolate to purchase. Ice and hot chocolate; closest thing to a winter wonderland you may get this winter.
Courtyard of Tavern on the Green
67th Street off Central Park West
Saturday, Feb. 11th,  11am-3pm
[UWS]

Photo by Alfred Eisenstaedt

This Saturday I will be joining an assortment of great writers at San Francisco’s Make-Out Room for Writers with Drinks. What is Writers with Drinks?  I’m so glad you asked according to the website:

Writers with Drinks won “Best Literary Night” from the SF Bay Guardian readers’ poll six years in a row and was named “Best Literary Drinking” by the SF Weekly. And it was namechecked in Armistead Maupin’s latest Tales of the City novel. The spoken word “variety show” mixes genres to raise money for local worthy causes. The award-winning show includes poetry, stand-up comedy, science fiction, fantasy, romance, mystery, literary fiction, erotica, memoir, zines and blogs in a freewheeling format.

Sounds great right?  So come out and here myself and others read, and then have drinks with us. Yay!  All the pertinent info is here on the Facebook invite.

See you there!

Writers with Drinks
The Make-Out Room
3225 22nd St. btw Valencia and Mission
Saturday 2/11
7:30pm-10:30pm
$5-$10 sliding scale all benefiting CSC

If you’ve never spoiled yourself on Russian pastries – you best be doing it soon. I recommend the next time you wanna let yourself splurge, to check out Cinderella Bakery on Clement Street.  You most likely won’t be able to pronounce half of them, but just read the translations and the bottom, to see what these amazing buns are filled with. Luckily I was with a Ukrainian friend who advised me about what to get.

The most popular items are definitely the piroskis, which are fried buns filled with beef and cheese, potatoes, mushrooms or cabbage. The poppy seed hametashin is also a traditional delight. Someone told me not to eat one the day before a drug test! Ha ha. These other sweet shortbread pastries filled with raspberry, apricot or prune jam are my favorite. Cinderella also makes their own rye breads and cakes. You can also order other Russian inspired dishes for lunch and dinner.

Cinderella Bakery
Hours: 7 a.m. – 7 p.m. Mon -Fri / 8 a.m. – 7 p.m. Sat-Sun
436 Balboa St (between 5th Ave. & 6th Ave.)
[Inner Richmond]

Dear, Winter

I am writing you this letter in hopes that you answer my question—where the fuck are you?

I have lived in the great city of New York for 25 years and this has got to be the hottest season of winter that I have ever experienced. You and these summer-loving douchebags might be laughing but I don’t find this to be necessarily humorous. When I look at my calendar in December, I make sure to circle the first day of winter, not because winter is my favorite season, (fall is) but because there is nothing more beautiful than wintertime in Gotham. The sun goes down around 4 o’clock, the temperature drops a few degrees and the city lights illuminate the streets.

Did you know what happened to me the other day? Do you? I got out of work at 5:30 pm and the sun was still out. I had on a jacket and a thin hoodie…and I was sweating!!! It’s bad enough that it’s 50 degrees in February—a month that has traditionally averaged temperatures no higher than 44 degrees—but with it being 2012 you have people in the streets, social networks and whatnot, raving about the connection between the Mayan’s predictions of the world ending and a sunny, springlike day. I’d like you to know that I went to play basketball today. I only had on a t-shirt and some thin sweatpants. Some people were in shorts. I’m pretty sure if I had stayed any longer I would have seen someone with no shirt on. That’s how unorthodox this “winter” has been.

Maybe this is a cruel joke. Maybe you don’t feel appreciated by us. Could it be that all these summer lovers have made you feel ashamed of your coldhearted ways? You shouldn’t be because at least I miss you. I miss you the same way I grow to miss the spring, summer and fall. Living in New York is a privilege, not only because of its opportunities and experiences, but because very few places in the world give people a chance to truly live through all four seasons.

My precious winter, I hope to feel your numbing bitterness on my exposed skin, your bone-chilling presence as I awake in the morning and most of all, the way you playfully tease me with your gusts of wind. I long for the day that you appear again. A day where you suddenly emerge from your seclusion with, perhaps a blizzard on the city. A blizzard that drowns the city streets so deeply that it forces it to shut down. I want to see children stay home and play with your angelic gift of snowflakes because the schools are closed. I want adults to stay home from work because the office or the store is not open. I want you back on your stage.

If you don’t reply I understand. I just wanted to let you know that it’s not the same in New York without you.

Sincerely,

Mr. Minimum Wage

Photo Credit: photosshow.com

In honor of the upcoming Valentine’s Day, let’s talk about love. The happiness, the longing gazes, the tender moments shared. And sometimes: the drama, the emotional rollercoaster ride, the letdowns. Almost everyone has been in an intense relationship with someone who is Simply Not Good For Them, including myself. Except, in my case, that tumultuous relationship wasn’t with a person, it was with a taco truck (this post could alternately be titled, “Taco Truck, Do You Think I’m Pretty?”).

For a long time, everything happened at the taco truck (or, as my friends and I call it, “TT”). Indeed, since I moved to New York two years ago, much of my life has revolved around that dilapidated pile of metal with carnitas smells emanating from it. It started out innocently– Mexican food deprived, missing California, and in desperate need of some babe-watching, my friend and I tried a local Mexi-food roach-coach that was staffed by fellow twentysomething Cali babes. The first time we went, they were blasting Mac Dre (major points) (Ed note: RIP). One of the cute employees– drunk on the job, might I add– stepped out of the truck and philosophized about how “People in New York aren’t cool to each other… or themselves” before demanding that we give him “a real hug, one of those two-armed ones,” and spilling his paper cup filled with whiskey on us (having previously lived in San Francisco– major, major points). Most importantly, their burritos were perfectly-wrapped flavor explosions, and only cost $5-7. This place had all of the unprofessionalism, eye candy, and cheap-ass food that we wanted, daresay, needed in our lives! I was immediately head-over-heels for TT.

But, like many relationships, my love affair with TT was a victim of “too much, too fast.” Like a teenie bopper with her first boyfriend, I became obsessed– wanting TT for every meal, and eating there 3-4 times per week. A lot of people gain weight when they enter into relationships– extra pounds brought on by lazy evenings spent cuddling on the couch with some Ben & Jerry’s and the latest episode of Downton Abbey. Well, you can only imagine what being in a clingy, obsessive relationship with a burrito-peddling motor vehicle did to my body. I was literally exploding at the seams with passion for rice, beans, and Tapatio.

I also maybe-kinda-sorta became a stalker. I memorized all of the truck’s employees, along with the subtle nuances of their burrito artistry. When I wasn’t at TT, I was constantly thinking about about the people who worked there: “Who’s working tonight? I hope not that goober with the baby hands who makes the loosely-rolled sandbag burritos,” or, “Maybe I should ask for extra jalapenos next time, Guy Who Hates His Life never adds enough,” or, “Someone I know really needs to date that guy who wears the stretched-out Backstreet Boys t-shirt.” Just like Jonathan Taylor Thomas and fruit roll-ups for my ten year old self, TT dominated my thoughts, and my stomach.

Because of my obsession, I didn’t take it lightly when the taco truck mysteriously disappeared on random days, and sometimes even for months at a time. The stoners who ran it couldn’t seem to keep a regular schedule, opening and closing whenever they pleased. Too-loyal, naive TT fangirl that I was, I didn’t just scoot my caboose over to Chipotle– I mourned. I refused to eat anywhere else, resorting to pathetic dinners of Flamin’ Hots, wallowing in bed and typing on my laptop with red Hot Cheeto-stained fingers, compulsively checking TT’s Twitter feed for updates on their return (in vain). Blinded by love, I couldn’t see that TT simply didn’t feel the same way about me– I was but just one tortilla in it’s economy pack, one kernel on a cob of it’s oh-so-delicious Mexican corn. It took me awhile to realize that TT knew it was hot, and was giving me the run-around like a typical bro. Essentially, TT was like that guy you repeatedly hook up with who you secretly know is not that into you, but his burrito is so XXXtra hot that you can’t help but keep going back for more.

Like every obsessive creep, I eventually hit rock bottom. My low came when I mixed food-infatuation with real-life infatuation (like, with an actual human), and got stood up at TT. Twice. As I’ve mentioned before, I have a thing for food service workers– mainly one who worked at TT. We had an ongoing point-of-sale flirtation, and he eventually asked me out (yes, at the truck), by peeling off his Latex gloves and Sharpie-ing his number on a napkin. He was adorable, smart, dressed like a Dad on Vacay, and could make majestic burritos– everything seemed perfectly zesty until (as sometimes happens when you go out with someone you randomly met at a mobile taqueria) he got weird and failed to show up to our planned meeting place (TT, obvs) twice. It’s in the past and doesn’t matter now– but I will say that nothing compares to the feeling you get when you sexy-walk up to a taco truck expecting to see a gorgeous twentysomething boy toy, and find a squat, middle-aged Mexican man instead.

Lesson learned: once your TT obsession invades your actual love life, it’s time to take a step back and reassess. Since cutting down my TT intake, I’ve lost the lethargy gained from excessive burrito consumption, and learned to branch out and try other cheap eats in my neighborhood. I date someone who doesn’t put me in situations where I’m accidentally strutting up to married dads named Jose. In diet/love/work/this crazy thing called “Life,” it’s really easy to cling to things that are familiar– like burritos and California stoners. There’s nothing wrong with that, but everything in moderation, my friends. Sometimes it’s good to take a chance, mix things up, step out of your comfort zone, and not get all Ali Larter over one thing. I mean, that’s how I found this new Vietnamese place I’m into, it’s practically all I can think about these days!

Photo credit: No Recipes

Admission into NYC’s MoMa is certainly pricey– at $25 general admission, you basically have to brave the horrendous crowds on the monthly free day– or dig up your student ID from ten years ago and try to pass as an 18 year old– to catch a break. Wouldn’t a FREE meal help alleviate that gutted feeling you get when thinking about disgustingly expensive museum prices? Well, don’t fret– as part of artist Rirkrit Tiravanija’s piece, Untitled (Free/Still), MoMA is serving up FREE (with the cost of admission) thai curry on it’s second floor.  But hurry– the exhibition ends tomorrow, February 8th.

Cooked in the museum’s kitchen and served up to the gallery, Tiravanija’s art/culinary work deals with the “anthropological” idea of food. According to the artist, it’s not about the art (a.k.a, the delicious curry), but how strangers interact with the food, and each other. It’s also about eating “art”– an idea which makes me giggle, because I picture some crazed tourist taking a bite out of the Mona Lisa or something. Anyway, enough about the intellectual concept– won’t you feel better about that expensive MoMA admission when you wash down all of that fine art with some fine-ass, FREE curry? I know I will.

More information about Tiranvanija’s Untitled (Free/Still) can be found HERE. Feed your artistic appetite, literally and figuratively.

Rirkrit Tiravanija’s Untitled (Free/Still)
Tuesday, February 7th, 12pm-3pm
FREE with museum admission
MoMA (11 W. 53rd St.)
[Midtown]

Photo credit: Midtown Lunch

I think that my audience (meaning you of course) is so cool and I love the way that you engage with me here on the site and on Facebook, and twitter.  So I thought it would be super awesome to have a way for you all to show off your broke-ass pride.  See that photo up above?  I want you to do the same thing.  No, not necessarily in Times Square, but in front of some landmark wherever you live.

Make a sign saying “You are Young, Broke and Beautiful” and stand in front of some place cool or indicative of where you live, and have a friend snap a photo of you.  Feel free to get as creative with the sign and location as you’d like.

Once you’ve done that email me the photo at info@brokeassstuart.com and I will post one on the Facebook page every few days or so.  Then you can show it to all your friends and be like, “Look motherfuckers!  I’m on Broke-Ass Stuart’s Facebook page. Your PhD in Astrophysics has nothing on this” or some other incredibly smug remark.

This sounds like SO much fun right?  Honestly, I’m really excited about this.  So send me some photos!

I had a regular when I was a bartender. 33, classically gorgeous and a bar owner, he had a crush on me because I didn’t give a shit, i.e. wasn’t hot enough to be seen in public with.  He’d bring in every feminine cliche (Biracial Burlesque Performer, Marketing Intern Who Drinks Half Her Shiraz Because of Carbs, etc.), then roll his eyes at them when I’d made eye contact.

Worst, he called himself a nerd- a widespread crime of normal, good looking men and women appropriating the title to make themselves adorable and accessible.  When he’d drink at the bar with a buddy instead of a date, he’d loudly drop greatest hits like “No, Gimli was scion to Gloin,” and “I went as Admiral Akbar every Halloween till I was 18”, then run his hand through his wavy hair with faux embarrassment.  Looking up at me with big chocolate eyes saying, “Yeah, I know, I’m a nerd” with barely hidden satisfaction, it took everything not to reply  “Bitch prease. I don’t even know who Admiral Akbar is but he’d be offended you’re using him for pussy. Nerd? Bring me 3 drink tickets from Comic Con and we’ll talk.”

Point is, people capitalize on ‘Nerd’ without committing to the bit- whether a dude or a girl picking pointless, showy arguments about Firefly.  Thank God for I Heart Nerds Speed Dating and Singles Night!!   Just in time to cuddle up for a Valentine’s Dr. Who marathon, the poser-free party is back February 9th at Brooklyn’s Bar 4.   There’ll be music, mingling, and of course, the chance to dish about Blade Runner 2 intel with some hot, real nerds.  RSVP to heartspeeddating@gmail.com, and do it fast because the speed dating will fill up. $5 to speed, free to mingle.

Thursday, February 9, 2012
Bar 4 in Brooklyn
444 7th Ave. Brooklyn, NY 11215 (Windsor Terrace/South Slope)
(718) 832-9800
RSVP to heartspeeddating@gmail.com (let ‘em know if you’re a dork or dorkette when you do)