Better Late Than Never

So, I have a confession to make.



I can't type.

Well, I obviously know how to use a computer or how would I have blathered on for over a year now. But, I do not type like I am supposed to. I have developed my own style of typing that works well for me. Tyler laughs hysterically when he watches me type. He tells me that there are a few fingers that I never use (like my pinkies) and I don't use my thumbs for the space bar. (You should try typing without your thumbs sometime.) I never really noticed my terrible typing. I knew it wasn't correct, but I could type about 60 wpm so I wasn't bothered. I did have to look down from time to time since my fingers weren't used to finding the keys, so I couldn't type in the dark (but who sits and types in the dark anyway).
I was never very good at typing to begin with. In school there was a keyboarding class I should have taken to improve my inadequate typing, but I didn't really want to take the class because I was a straight-A student and I worried that typing would be my downfall. But to complicate the matter, there was...Mr. Bilow.
Mr. Bilow was the keyboarding teacher, but he was also my gym teacher. Most people didn't meet Mr. Bilow until they took keyboarding, but I knew him all too well. He chose me early on to be a P.E. leader in his class. I thought this was because I was athletic and that may have been part of the reason. But I really think it is because he was kind of a creepy old man. I hate to even say this because it is not going to help any of you mothers sleep better at night (especially you mothers with daughters). I had heard rumors that he pinched girls bottoms in the hallways, but I didn't believe the gossip because I figured he would have been fired if he was walking around molesting students. Now before you freak out, he never laid a finger on me and I sure wouldn't be writing about it on here if he had (I'm sure I would go through the proper channels of counseling). However, he did earn my apprehension. He used to watch me run at the beginning of class. Jenny and I were the two leaders and we would run together to keep the other kids motivated. (Interesting that he chose two GIRLS for his leaders). We both noticed that he watched us, but I thought at first that he was just making sure that we were doing our job. Well one day before class I had to have Mr. Bilow sign something for class. It was just the two of us. I came up and he said, "You know Maleen, if you were older, I would hustle you."
Um, what??
I laughed awkwardly and left quickly (at the time I wasn't even sure what the word 'hustle' meant, but I could feel that it wasn't good). I never really looked at him the same after that. I wasn't fooled when he watched us run at the beginning of class (Jenny and I had many conversations about twisted gym teachers). And then came the time for keyboarding. I'm sure none of you can fault me for not wanting to take another class from Mr. Bilow. I didn't relish the thought of him peering over my shoulder while I typed. I admit that my grades still factored into the decision, but Mr. Bilow tipped the scales.
Thus my typing has never been ideal. I was reading someone's blog the other day and they mentioned this website where there is a typing class for kids. I bit the bullet and went to take it myself. I now type more or less correctly, but much slower. This is very frustrating to me and I often want to resort to my previous concocted version, but I can see improvement and I don't need to look at the keyboard now (Yay! I can type in the dark now!!!!). I have a lot to say, so it's tough to s-a-y i-t s-o s-l-o-w-l-y, but I'm convinced it's going to pay off. I am often tempted to write short sentences or leave out jokes to save my fingers the extra agony, but truthfully I need the practice.
And so, it took me many more years than I planned (and great mental tribulation--I may need counseling after all), but now I can type. Thanks for nothing Mr. Bilow.