If I had to choose one cliche clique to define my high school years, it would as a musical theater geek.

I like to think that my personality is too big to fit any stereotypical group, but the number of elective classes and extracurricular activities devoted to choir and drama tell a different story.

I did get mistaken for being in band a lot. The band would go on a class trip and I’d be at school and I’d get confused looks and be asked why I wasn’t with the band. I’ve never been in band. I must give off big band energy. I did have a lot of band friends…

I was never mistaken for being a jock or part of the FFA for some reason. Not being a jock, I totally get, but my grandparents ran the beef barn at the county fair for YEARS. I had deep farming roots in the area. I even owned a pair of wranglers. I helped round up the cows in the fall, and again during spring branding. And by help I mean I stood around awkwardly, slightly disturbed that the vet’s gloves went all the way up to the armpit and he put his arm WHERE to check if it’s pregnant?!? Spoiler: there’s only one hole, and my eyes can’t unsee that. It’s branded there forever. But alas, my brother inherited the cow whispering genes, and I was a city girl. You can take the girl out of weird Portland, but you can’t take weird Portland out of the girl.

While choir and music will always be my first love, I decided to branch out my senior year and take a drama class.

By far one of the most fun and memorable exercises was learning how to stage fight. We paired off to choreograph our fight scenes. My friend and I decided to recreate “the bagel incident” from the previous year, where a hot headed classmate had started a fight in the cafeteria when someone made him drop his bagel.

I got to be the big bad bagel guy.

I started out center stage, singing “I’ve got a bagel” (“I’ve got a dollar” from Little Rascals) whilst spreading cream cheese on my imaginary bagel. My friend ambled clumsily across the stage, bumping into me and making me drop said bagel.

Friend: Sorry man

Me: (looking angry) You made me drop my bagel

Friend: It was an accident, sorry!

Me: (even angrier) I dropped my bagel!

Then the choreographed fighting began, full of hair pulling and punching, and at one point I repeatedly smashed her face into the ground yelling “Eat the bagel! Eat the bagel!” I don’t remember how the fight ended. I’m pretty sure she was the victor because the big bad bagel guy isn’t supposed to win.

I do remember that ours was the most relevant and entertaining to our peers.