Some things about me:

  • I like to read and write.
  • My real name is Remi, which is conveniently unisex.
  • My pen name, “teddyteddyteddy”, is inspired by Teddy Wilson, who was my Dad’s favorite musician. My father had this awful habit where he would listen to any song of his exactly three times in a row, which drove me up the wall. When I write stuff, I either do it in silence or to stuff done by Teddy, mainly because they’re usually the only songs I’ve heard enough times as to not be a distraction.
  • I live in Alaska, which is a place devoid of light, hope, and happiness.
  • I eat around thirty to forty onions a week, mostly roasted and mixed together with rice and beans. This once got me into a long argument with a guy I’d been dating for about six months. He acknowledged that my breath was perfectly fine in light of an intense mouthwash/mint regimen, but thought it was “creepy” that someone would eat so many of them in the way that I did, and he ended up giving me what I like to think was the only onion-based relationship ultimatum in human history. I chose the vegetable, which I don’t regret. (That relationship had a lot of underlying issues aside from the onion debate, but it was funny that it happened to be the straw that broke the camel’s back.)
  • I collect stickers.
  • Once, when I was nine, I threw a Frisbee diagonally across the entire horizontal and vertical length of a full-size indoor gymnasium, where it landed inside the farthest basketball hoop away from the corner I’d been standing in, not even touching the blackboard or rim. As an child, I was very athletically un-inclined, and this was basically the biggest physical accomplishment I’d ever managed to achieve outside of not dying to chickenpox, so I was very proud of myself. Nobody saw it except for the coach. Even with Ms. Valley vouching for me, the other kids didn’t believe it, thinking that she was lying because she felt bad for me. I ended up getting so frustrated about the situation that I curled up into a ball on the floor and started crying. All the kids at this point actually ended up doing the nice thing and apologizing, but I could tell that they still didn’t believe me, and I ended up getting sent to the office and having my parents called in because of how badly I couldn’t stop tearing up. I didn’t get in any trouble, and everyone agreed that I must have just been having a bad day, but both the principal of my elementary school and my parents insinuated multiple times during conversation that I had lied about the Frisbee throw. No amount of begging and pleading for them to ask Ms. Valley about it themselves changed their minds, and I was sent home, where my parents spent the car ride asking me about what was “really” going on. My best friend’s parents had recently gotten a very nasty divorce at the time, and my parents assumed that the real reason I was sad was because I thought that they were getting a divorce too, and instead of listening to me and my real accomplishment they spent the remainder of the day gently knocking on my door and repeatedly reassuring me that they loved each other very, very much. No one besides Ms. Valley ever acknowledged my breakdown as anything other than a distraught kid terrified of seeing their family break up, and my sole athletic achievement in life was effectively erased. Many years later as a physically fit adult, I met up with Ms. Valley at a supermarket, where she admitted to me that she hadn’t actually seen the Frisbee toss either, and that she had just been trying to make me feel better. I insisted that I had really made the throw, and she chuckled and gave me a hug before saying goodbye, assuming that I was joking.
  • I could have broken that up into separate paragraphs, but my experiences have shaped me into a bitter, spiteful person, and I enjoy the creation of human suffering, however minor.
  • My parents did end up getting divorced shortly after that incident, interestingly enough. My mom still blames Teddy Wilson.