I learned to touch type on a typewriter. It means I'm old but not as old as you're thinking. There were computers around but being a poor Phamly we didn't get a computer until Big Brother Pham turned 15 and got a job.

Big Brother bought our first think-box but Dad Pham bought my first typewriter. He found it at a garage sale because he was always buying things from garage sales whether we used them or not. Nobody asked for or needed a typewriter but that's never stopped him. His latest buy is an electric drill that he has no use for but still loves.

I was drawn to the typewriter. As soon as I saw it, I knew it was going to be mine. Little me used to write stories all the time and this was a shiny, new way to present my words. I didn't touch type at first because I didn't know there was such a thing. But one of my many IT cousins (why do I have so many cousins in IT?) saw me sitting at the typewriter with my two index and middle fingers and showed me how to be a lady. Okay, nobody ever showed me how to be a lady - Mum gave up before she started; I remember the exact moment her hopes died when I came home after a day well spent sliding down a dirt hill on my arse in a brand new polka dot skirt. Anyhoo, I picked up touch typing fast.


The only problem with learning on a typewriter is that to this day I still punch my keyboards with the vigour I needed to impress ink. Sometimes it sounds like I'm trying to murder my keyboard. This rad moo cow patterned keyboard cover softens the blow. It has put my touch typing to the test because while it looks super awesome, some of the keys are hard to read with red on black print. I had to memorise a couple of function buttons at the top but otherwise, I've still got it. Weehee!

I bought this from my good friend, eBay.