Taryn Toomey, 39, the founder of the Class by Taryn Toomey, perhaps the most pretentious, useless and self-centered class ever is a mind-body workout that “invites students to witness their resistance to discomfort,” (Jesus Fuck) has somewhat of a cult following (very few followers, but they are obsessive to the point of neuroses). Students from across the metropolitan area are heading to her year-old TriBeCa studio to sweat, cry and scream, as she urges them to “dig deeper.” Like Great Britain, they have nothing to give but their sweat, tears and screams. On Sundays, Ms. Toomey cherishes quality time with her husband, Mark Toomey, 48, who works in finance (although he doesn’t figure into the day much, really, other than to finance this leisure-class bint’s flim-flam “classes”), and their two daughters, Scarlett, 8, referred to as Lettie, and Finley, 6, continuing the practice of giving kids unlikely and non-traditional names to stick it in the eye of their parents, who find their contrived names juvenile and pointless. The family lives in TriBeCa because of course.
DREAM WEAVER My internal alarm clock has me up at 6:30 or 7, which is my normal wake-up time. I try to sleep in but can’t. I end up lying in bed and daydreaming (since her sexless state precludes either masturbating or having sex with her husband, a beta male who is easily controlled and since they have 2 kids, has had sex with her 2 times since marriage, although they might be from a surrogate).
“They’ve gotten to the age where they don’t wake me up when they wake up,” said Ms. Toomey of her daughters, Lettie, left, and Finley. “I jump on the couch with them for some snuggles. It’s a nice family moment.” Hell, they could be choking to death and I wouldn’t hear it in my sleeping-pill/psychotropic drug cocktail haze I’d never wake up.
After a half-hour or an hour, rigidly timed, I’ll move from the couch and make coffee. I use whatever organic beans I have on hand and throw in a packet of powdered herbs, add almond milk and blend it all up. It’s frothy, hot and delicious and pretentious and tasteless as fuck. Then, I get breakfast going for all of us. For the three of them, I make eggs, bacon or waffles, and for myself, it’s a smoothie with pumpkin, almond milk, nutmeg, cinnamon and chocolate-flavored protein powder (which makes it easy to throw up after breakfast). My diet consists of mostly vegetables, fruit, fish and nuts which I immediately purge after eating.
QUIET When we’re done eating, I slip away to my office for my daily meditation practice. I sit in silence for a minimum of 20 minutes, but it could end up being much longer. I’ve been meditating every day for the last three years and find it very grounding. The kids are, of course, totally quiet and don’t need a drink or a snack or a misplaced toy or help with the tv or argue or yell at each other, and if they do, that’s what nanny is for.
“As much as I like the idea of taking a day off from physical exertion, I love the community and the movement that the Class offers,” Ms. Toomey said. Because the maid comes on Monday and unlike normal people this entitled ass can just lump around all day instead of doing things like laundry or cleaning house that working people have to do on their day off because that’s the only time they have to do it.
I inevitably end up in the 10 a.m. with Jaycee, who is the director of our training program. She leads a 75-minute session that leaves me feeling grounded and alive. Instead of desperately despressed and dead inside, as I revert to as my default mood 5 minutes after the 75-minute session.
I linger at the studio (anything to avoid facing my family again, Sunday my husband is home all day!!). I chat with students, many of whom have become my friends, and then, Jaycee, I and a few others will walk over to Laughing Man or Kaffe 1688, coffee shops in the neighborhood, to chat more. I always get an almond milk flat white to drink. It’s heavenly. Listen, 30 minutes snuggling on the couch is quite enough time with my daughters, thank you very much, and the less time around my husband the better. Hanging with other sexless drones like Jaycee and talking about ourselves is much more fulfilling than wasting Sunday with my family.
Around 1, I hook up with Mark and the girls for lunch. TriBeCa’s Kitchen is a go-to. The three of them usually get greasy foods like hot dogs, fries and chicken fingers, while I order a salad with grilled shrimp or scrambled eggs with a side of spinach because I’m just a superior human being. We also like eating at Sarabeth’s. The garden omelet there is my favorite. It contains no eggs.
GIRL TIME Mark likes to have some downtime in the afternoon to work out (yeah, ‘work out’ with his secretary, the only sex he gets these days. Actually, miss ‘training program’ is probably ok with it, it keeps him from annoying her about sex). While he’s (getting) off, I’ll spend some time with the girls (like it’s some kind of special event, spending time with your kids, which most of us do the entire time we are off work). We may go to the Barnes & Noble (nothing kids love better than spending a few hours at a Barnes a& Noble!) in TriBeCa and read books or we may go to a movie or to a salon and get pedicures (these girls are in for a lifetime of therapy and bad relationships with militant dykes. Has this lady ever heard of going to the park and letting them run around? One is 6 years old and she spends her Sunday afternoons getting a pedicure? Fuck me. Our time together is fun and really relaxed. I don’t even have my phone with me because I want to be fully engaged with them. Wow, doesn’t even have a phone with her! This lady is a true modern saint. She gives them her undivided attention for the hour it takes to get a pedi/mani then back to ignoring them for a week.
We’ll head back home to hang out more. I give them the choice to do whatever they want. It’s so important to have unstructured time. Yes, an hour a week or so of unstructured time is so important. Hell, my kids get about 90% unstructured time outside of school and piano lessons. Good to know her rigidly scheduled kids get an hour of “unstructured” time. The fact she has to label it “unstructured” just shows what a freakishly controlling wench she is. Pity her kids by the time they are teens. While they’re doing whatever they’re doing, I’ll plan my classes for the next day. I teach two on Mondays. “Teach” used very loosely here. Basically she takes money from cretinous, gullible, credulous trend slaves and instructs them to “dig deeper” resulting in sweating, crying and screaming. Nice class, not surprised she only does 2 on Mondays. I told them, no more matinees, 2 shows a day, that’s it, I just can’t do more!
TINY’S Although I enjoy cooking, more often than not, we end up having Sunday dinner at Tiny’s, this cozy restaurant that we’ve been going to for the last two years. (enjoys stunt cooking for fun, not actually feeding her family, which “more often than not” either they eat out or the cook/housekeeper/nanny takes care of feeding the family and she eats whatever fad bullshit of the week she eats). I love the salmon with the black lentils and cauliflower purée. (Cauliflower puree? I just threw up in my mouth a little there). I usually have a glass of red wine. I enjoy a good glass of wine a few times a week and also like tequila. In fact I usually have a glass of red white, followed by a glass or red wine, and nothing goes as good with that as a few more glasses of red wine. “a few times a week” being days ending in “y”. When I get home it’s time to break out the tequila. Facing my husband requires hard liquor.
SOAK Back at home, around 7, the girls get into the bathtub in our bathroom for a nice, long soak. They take showers during the week, but a bath is a relaxing way to end a Sunday (they never argue or fight or make an ungodly mess while in the tub like normal sisters, they are so drugged out by the various maintenance drugs their Tribeca pediatrician gives them they are like zombies left stewing in the tub). They’re in bed close to 8 (after their perscription sleeping pills kick in), and then, I get into a bath with a ton of Epsom salts, light a candle, close my eyes and sit for 20 minutes. Again, no masturbation for me! My lifestyle, worldview and diet has choked all the femininity and sexual desire right out of me. By 9:30 or 10, it’s lights out. My husband stays up late drinking and masturbating to porn, which is actually a relief, I don’t have to worry about him mauling me with his grubby hands. In fact, you notice I’ve been able to pretty much ignore him all day and haven’t spent any time at all talking to or interacting with him other than him paying for lunch and dinner with the girls as a buffer. Sweet!)
Ms. Toomey likes to grab some alone time in the late afternoon to plan her classes for the following week. “Let’s see, we’ll start by digging deeper, followed by some sweating, crying and finish up with some real screaming. Then we take a break.”
You can’t help but notice how this lady’s schedule doesn’t involve her husband at all, and outside of meals, he himself has no interaction with his daughters. Guess he’s busy “working out” all day Sunday with his workout partner (wink wink).