This happens a lot, when I'm writing about something and then I stop. Four months ago I was writing about my Freshman Year in college. I'm trying to record all my impressions and experiences, so it's been slow going. I've finally gotten to Spring Semester of 1990...

Following a lackluster first semester I dove way in over my head by taking 17 units that following Spring. Now, eventually I stabilized to 15-16 units a semester, so you'd think that an extra unit wouldn't matter much. But it did for me. Every unit is supposed to be worth something like 3 hours a week split up between classes and coursework. So it just seemed like there was a lot of work this semester.

Since I had already started down this train in the Fall, the Spring was a continuation of my Math, Physics, and Computer Science classes. After Math 1B there is Math 50A which on my transcript is named "SOPH MATH". Not very informative at all. Too bad that the course number doesn't exist anymore or I'd know what it was by looking at UCB's current schedule of classes. Colleges do that, change their curriculum. Obviously I don't remember this class at all, but I did manage an A.

After Physics 7A there was obviously Physics 7B. We were still using the same big book as last semester, so at least there wasn't that expense (and we'd keep using the book in Physics 7C). Again, I don't remember this class at all, but my grades once again were better as I got a B in this class.

Computer Science 60B I don't remember that well either. Sigh. I remember that discussion sessions were for learning C, while the class itself dealt with whatever -- maybe algorithms. This is probably not the same class, but I remember once having a GSI (Graduate Student Instructor) from New Zealand and that's the first time I'd heard anyone say Zed for Z ("so if we have three variables X Y and Zed..."). I got an A- in this class, a bit less than I wanted but that happens.

The fourth class was the hard one. When I took the SATs there was a written essay portion, which I did not do well in. So even though I had a pretty good Verbal score (650) I still had to take some sort of remedial English class, plus English 1A which was a requirement. Not so much that I objected to a remedial class as I objected to wasting precious units on such a class. But I found out (or maybe was told) about this experimental English class being offered this semester, English 1AC -- Reading and Composition. Five units and it satisfied both requirements. How hard could it be I thought and signed up.

I remember reading a lot of books, few of which I actually remember. Angle of Repose, set in the American West early 1900s. A few books set in California and other Western States. Of them all I remember Angle of Repose the best, even though it's a long and boring book. A young wife and her husband, who is a civil engineer working on a canal, move to this town where he has work to do. They bring a kid with them. She has an affair, something bad happens to the kid, the marriage is never the same, though they do stay married. Kind of sad really. Angel of repose refers to the natural maximum angle that sand or gravel can get to before it all starts sliding down, and it also referred to a couple that sort of settles into a routine over the years.

Lots of writing. This being an English class, and an introductory one to boot, for some reason there were a lot of jocks and cheerleader types taking the class. We'd critique our writing and discuss the books and disagree with the professor's interpretation of the works. It was a fun class but once again it was a lot of work. Actually it was a seven unit class worth five units, one reason I took it. So this was my hardest semester.

This was also the semester that I went to a Berkeley Campus Adventurer's Club (BCAC) meeting. I had seen Eric Melhaff's sign on Sproul Plaza and it took me a semester to summon the courage to go. I had a lot of RPGs before I went to Berkeley, but what I took to Berkeley was my AD&D stuff. It was relatively new 2nd Edition books and I was looking forward to gaming. That semester I played in John Tomassetti's Spelljammer campaign with some of the other guys.

I had a mage with one spell, and when that one spell was cast I got bored and dove in with two daggers, earning the nickname of "The Fighting Mage" from someone (maybe Pickering). Of course he died, but he was reincarnated as an Ogre Magi by Melhaff I think, who had some sort of weird gnome mage. This is also the campaign where I formed my opinion of Pickering as being a survivor type who'd always live even if the rest of us were killed. Sort of like Avon of Blake's 7.

So that's my Freshman Year as I remember it. My first year away from home and on my own. A lot of fun, a lot of work. When I moved back home for the summer I was ready for a break. It would only be a couple of months as we'd have to start looking for an apartment soon enough.