Goldfish #2 Starting out

I can look back now and remember the exact day I became interested in brewing. I remember sitting in Brent Buckner's Biology class one afternoon in Science Hall. We were studying one-celled organisms and he began talking about yeast. Professor Buckner was a long-haired energetic fellow with a passion for genetics and beer. As I had hair down to my back by then, he was instantly one of my favorites.
At the end of the lesson he mentioned that brewing beer was a great way to learn about yeast and offered to provide anyone interested a copy of a home brewing catalog. I remember almost every single detail of this encounter except why I decided to stay. I could barely get a Natural Light down. Why in God's name did I want to brew beer myself? As the rest of the class filtered out of the room there was just three of us left. Me, Buckner and a young blonde girl who had a crush on the professor and was surely in desperate need of some extra credit.
"I just love science," she gushed. "I would really like to learn how to brew beer."
Prof. Buckner reluctantly handed her a copy of the William's Brewing Catalog. I'm sure he realized he would have been better off setting fire to it.
Finally she batted her lashes and hugged her useless catalog as she left the room.
"You want to give brewing a try?" Prof. Buckner asked me.
"I've really never thought about it until now, but it sounds fun. Maybe I could brew some over Christmas break," I replied.
The good professor went on to give me a brief overview of the process and even suggested which kit I would be best off with on the first try.
It didn't take long before I had the order form on the back cover filled out and ready to mail off. Hopefully all the ingredients would be home before Christmas. (God bless the internet!)
Fortunately for me I was making a quick trip home that weekend. I told my parents all about my plan to make five gallons of beer.
They were both on the case in a matter of minutes. (I have pretty cool parents.)
"What are you going to make it in?" my mother asked, obviously a bit concerned about the condition of her immaculate kitchen. "I think we better order the whole kit and get a big pot."
So they chipped in for the kit and I bought the ingredients. Dad and I headed to the hardware store for a canning pot leaving us with nothing to do but wait.
Finally the UPS man arrived with the much-anticipated shipment. The ingredients might as well have been a care package from Mars.
I had never even been on a brewery tour at this point. It was late 1993 and there weren't many brewpubs or home brew shops just yet. There were a couple bags of thick goo and another couple bags that looked like guinea pig pellets.
I don't recall the time line, but I'm sure we didn't wait long to make use of our new equipment and ingredients.