In the fall of 1992, I returned to Fairbanks for my second year of college. I was still living with my good friend Eric (and often, his girlfriend Christine). I had a new student job doing support for the university’s VAX/VMS system.
(Side tangent: my student account was my first ever “email” address, a revolutionary new concept. At the University of Alaska, email addresses were automatically assigned based on your location, your role, and your initials, so I was FSMCS1@alaska.edu. F for Fairbanks, S for student, my initials, and then a 1 because there already was an FSMCS@alaska.edu. Later, when I took on the support staff role mentioned above, I became FXMCS@alaska.edu. I have no idea if this system is still in place.)
One night, I had gone out with some friends to a rave off campus, and had made eye contact with a beautiful blonde bombshell, only I didn’t have the confidence to try to talk to her. I returned to campus later, and was still awake, so decided to go to my office and learn some about my new job.
For some reason, a name kept popping into my head, and on a whim, I decided to look it up to see if there was an email account. Sure enough, there was a student by that name, so I shot a quick email out, asking if she happened to be the person I saw at the race.
A few minutes later, I actually got a response! My hunch was right, and after a short conversation by email, I realized that we had gone to the same high school for four years, — in the same graduating class, even! — although we mostly ran in different circles. (We did have at least one mutual friend.) She spent one year at University of Alaska Anchorage before transferring up to Fairbanks. We got together that night and went to the 24 hour Denny’s in Fairbanks with her roommate. I was smitten.
I didn’t have a great semester at university, though. In fact, it was about as bad as you could have. I failed every class, mostly because I didn’t go to class very often. I wasn’t really happy in the computer science major I was studying, because it was all theory and I had always been more practical-minded. A 0.0 grade point average led the school to kick me out.
In hindsight, I recognize that I was probably pretty depressed during that time. I slept a lot and just generally had no motivation for school. I was also very much infatuated with Rachel, even leading me to dye my hair blonde at one point. (I have often joked that this caused my hair to fall out, but I honestly think it was just genetics.)
I begged and pleaded with the dean of the University, and he relented and let me live in the dormitories for one semester, the spring of 93, while I took part-time classes and got my GPA back up high enough that I could reapply as a full-time student again.
So, for the record, I dropped most of my courses the first semester because of the mono. The second semester I did a full 15 credit hours. Then I got credit for NOTHING in my third semester, and only part time (9 credits) my fourth semester. So I finished my second year of college with barely enough credits to qualify as a sophomore (2nd year student, in American terms).
That summer, instead of returning to Anchorage, Rachel and I moved off campus into an apartment together. It was my first experience with living with a romantic partner, and at times, it was great. My family liked her, her family liked me.
But Fairbanks is not an easy town to live off campus in. The bus system was crappy, and walking several miles in snow and -50°F (-45°C) weather wasn’t something I wanted to do regularly. Rachel had a car, a little white Volkswagen Jetta, and we would use it to go shopping or to school, but it was very isolating for me. I lost connection with most of my friends during this time.
Basically, my entire life revolved around school and Rachel. And for a while, that wasn’t bad. I was pretty happy. My third year of school was better and I continued to get good grades, even if I hadn’t exactly found my purpose. (At various points, I was a Computer Science major, a creative writing major, and a music major.) I tried to be a good boyfriend. We watched Melrose Place and Beverly Hills 90210 together.
But eventually, I started to chafe at feeling isolated. I missed my friends. And then Rachel came to me, close to the end of our second year together, and told me that she still wanted to be a couple, but she didn’t want to have a sexual relationship anymore. We would just live together platonically as partners.
That wasn’t acceptable to me, so ultimately we broke up. It wasn’t easy for me, because I desperately wanted to have a relationship, a love, in my life. Rachel was, and even is today, a beautiful and interesting woman. But I wanted the whole package, not just part of it.
At the end of that semester, spring 1993, I moved back on campus as a single man again.
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