One time in history class, I got up from my seat, walked across the room, bent over the little trashcan, and spit my gum out. What I did not notice was the old hand-cranked pencil sharpener located directly above the bin. As I bent back up, my head hit the under side of the sharpener and made a surprisingly loud ‘Crack!’ It must have been the combination of that hard spot on the back of my head and the sturdy wooden bottom of the sharpener.

Regardless, the whole class went silent and looked for the source of the noise. Once they had found me, with my hand on my head and a completely dazed look on my face, they began to laugh. There was an, ‘Oh Zoe” and more than a few good-natured concussion jokes. I’ve grown up with my classmates, and I rarely feel uncomfortable with them.

Unfortunately, I have found myself in much more embarrassing situations than the one above. I’ve tripped and fallen on my face while walking out for an orchestra concert. I’ve gotten into a strangers car, and loudly complained of indigestion before realizing the driver was not my dad. I’ve accidentally used the word ‘Gazpacho’ in a Hitler presentation on the German Gestapo. I have very little bladder control when it comes to trampolines. I’ve crashed into a pond during a Cyclocross race. Last week, I called my math teacher mom.

Yet for all of these incidents, I barely blushed. I was able to laugh it off, make fun of myself and archive each story for a later retelling. I don’t look back on these stories in humiliation or regret. In retrospect, I have trouble not laughing out loud thinking of my mishaps. So I embrace my unintentionally funny moments with a touch of self-deprecation, and understand that making a fool of myself is an integral part of being me.