Why I Write by Trisha Tostanoski

All my life I’ve been told I was funny.  I was never called “attractive”, “kind-hearted”, “smart” or “generous”, but I could make pretty much anyone laugh.  I went through a brief stint (going to a fashion school in New York City) and found a hipster boyfriend there.  SIDENOTE: don’t date a skater who lives in Brooklyn unless you want to spend the nights on a mattress in his kitchen.  After he dumped me I broke into his apartment with my friends, broke his guitars, punched a hole through his George Forman grill, and then cried on his bathroom floor for 10 minutes.  Now this may seem psychotic but what strikes me as even crazier is that the next week he told me he wanted to be friends.  I replied “I broke your shit why do you want to be friends.”  He responded, “Because you’re funny.”

This, however, is not the reason I wanted to become a comedic writer.  I just threw that in there to prove that I’m hilarious and I will win you over no matter how many of your guitars I break.  Besides the fact that I write for attention, and to be funny I wanted to do something that could potentially make me a lot of money so I could shove it in my family’s face. This may not be a reason that most people strive to do things for, but it’s the fuel to my fire for a good reason.

My entire life my family has thought that I was the dumb one.  I did not get the fat gene or the big brain apparently.  They have reason to believe this considering I talked to inanimate objects for a good portion of my life.  When I was young all I wanted to do was make people laugh, even if that meant having full blown conversations with garbage cans in front of my entire fourth grade class.  I had very little interest in school most of my life so I didn’t attend class that much . I am the product of being passed along.  I got good grades in school because most of my teachers thought I was a riot the one day a week I would come in.

However, not attending school has kept me behind on basic history and geographical information.  For example, recently I found out that Martin Luther King and Martin Luther King Jr. was in fact the same person.  Up until a month ago I thought that Martin Luther King died in a jail cell after the police took him in and brutally beat because he tried to lead a march to end segregation.  After his Father had died in his cell, Martin Luther King Jr. bravely stepped up and gave a fabulous speech that ended all racism.  This story is a figment of my imagination and would be Malcolm X’s and Martin Luther King’s love child story.  Of course, now I know that this is completely idiotic and I have Wikipedia to thank for that.

I’ve been the only member of my family to attend community college (which I rocked the fuck out of.)  I tried to explain to them that No, I was not mildly autistic; I’m just a tad quirky.  I’ve always known that there was something a tad off in my personality I just haven’t been ostracized for it yet so I haven’t done anything about it.  I’ve always marched to the beat of my own drum, have hated school, and have done things differently than the rest of my family.  While they were off getting their masters, I was playing Edward forty hands (a drinking game where you duct tape two 40 ounce beers to your hands, homegirl couldn’t scratch her face/give high fives for hours) with delinquents I met at community college in parking lots.

I don’t write to inspire the masses.  I’m not Ghandi.  If I didn’t eat for more than one day I’d die and I’m not positive what the salt march is but it sounds like it would make me bloated.  I write to be funny, and to make something of myself in the only area where I can excel.  I’m not sure where I’ll be in a few years or even days from now.  Maybe my family was right.  Maybe I will spend the rest of my life eating paste and struggling to get through the alphabet.  I will spend my life forever in the shadows of their Bachelors and Masters degrees but, there is one thing that they cannot take away from me.  And that is my ability to look phenomenal in red.  K-mart, here I come.

 

Trisha Tostanoski is a 22 year old aspiring comedic writer/lion tamer. She studies Creative Writing at Hunter College. She is a likeable gal with low expectations. If you would like to read her silly thoughts on life or just make fun of her face you can connect with her on facebook under Trish Tostanoski or on twitter @tweettwatanoski.

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10 thoughts on “Why I Write by Trisha Tostanoski

  1. This piece is extremely funny, whole hearted, and honest. From reading this, I believe this writer can make something of herself in the writing world.

  2. Chelsea needs you! Get that portfolio together and send out queries!
    You have that rare gift of being able to go off on any subject and make it funny.
    Signed
    Another woman who has made several pathetic attempts at writing

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