Post 9: Wong and I Are Dumb And We’re Proud!

So, as we have talked about in class and on the blog, Ali Wong includes a section in her book about her Big Secret: being a “fucking idiot” (xi). As a knee jerk reaction, I (and probably many of you) assumed that this would belong in the category of self-deprecating humor, another thing we have talked about extensively throughout this course. As Hannah Gadsby states in her special Nanette, “I have built a career out of self-deprecating humor, and I don’t want to do that anymore…It’s not humility, it’s humiliation.” We now know the dangers and consequences of using self-deprecating humor, so I flinched when I came to this section in Wong’s text. But, honestly, I don’t think that is what Wong is doing here.

Opening up to the many readers of her book (even though it is intended for her two daughters) about the things that make her a “fucking idiot” displays Wong’s confidence and her humanity. I mentioned this in a few comments last week, but I’ll talk about it a bit more here. Admitting that you have flaws, that you may not be perfect and know everything, is admitting that you are human. And, if you consider the culture of constantly having to be right in our society, this shows that Wong is confident and stable enough in herself and her worth that she does not feel the need to pretend to be perfect (whatever ‘perfect’ means). So, I’m jumping on the bandwagon! I didn’t make a guilty pleasures post, so I feel like this bandwagon is allowed, right?

Here are the things that make me a (part-time) “fucking idiot”:

·       Until recently, I have not been capable of using a lock and key. For my entire life, I literally have not been able to use a key to open a locked door. Why? I don’t know. Someone else would always huff and take the key and unlock it on the first try. I couldn’t figure out the trick! Last March, my fiancée and I moved into an apartment together, and after several months of struggle, I now have it down (it probably would’ve taken longer if standing outside, weighed down by a backpack and coffee in hand, struggling for 3+ minutes with the key in the lock didn’t feel so terrifyingly vulnerable). I’m still not sure if I could do it with ease on any lock/door that isn’t my apartment…

·       More often than not, I still have to make the “L” shape with my hands to tell which is left/right. Just to make sure, you know? Most of the time, I think I know which is which, but I don’t want to point myself in the wrong direction, so I have to check. This is also true for most simple math problems, as I’ll pull out my phone calculator to double check my mental math. Why do I doubt myself constantly? Extreme, clinical anxiety The world may never know!

·       If I have a lidless drink, I will spill it. Okay, so, ever since I was a child, I have been known as The Spiller (which is just a little bit traumatic, but that’s a whole different story). Up to this day, I still spill things constantly, and when I’m not spilling things, I’m deeply anxious that I am about to spill something. When I’m carrying around a drink and I bend down to pick something up, I will subconsciously tip the cup with my body. Almost every single item of clothing I own has a coffee stain on it. I could go on, but I’d just like to preemptively apologize for spilling coffee in class and possibly getting it on your things. I promise, I didn’t mean to. :-)

·       I check my phone for the time/a text and immediately forget it after I look away. Like Hannah W. wrote about in her post, I will click on my phone to check the time and then completely forget what time it is the moment I look away. I do the same thing with texts/notifications, as well. This is a common problem, and I suspect it has something to do with the threshold phenomenon of walking into a room and immediately forgetting what you walked in there for.

·       Words. This is general because there are a couple categories. 1) I can only say the word “rural” once before my mouth just totally forgets how to form it. 2) In everyday conversation, I make a lot of simple mistakes with words and verb conjugation. My entire family, when this happens, finds it Hilarious and proceeds to joke about how I’m an English major who can’t speak proper English. I’m human, okay?! Also, I’m not a Grammar major, Mamaw.

If you have made it this far: This post, though these are pretty surface things, was kind of difficult for me to write/post, so I’d like to thank you for providing such a safe and accepting academic space to share. As a former Honor Roll Kid from a heavily academic-focused family, admitting that there are some things I’m not good at and that make me imperfect is difficult and not something I am used to doing. Let’s all admit that sometimes we can be “fucking idiots” and celebrate our imperfections together!