Cuz yes, they're back. Or they're starting to be back. With their beer in cups and their cluelessness about 4-way stops. With their parents carrying their expensive televisions. With their privilege looking like it must have really saturated them cuz they seem to be dripping with it.
Bert says the student body trends toward more and more out-of-staters, by the U's design. Out-of-state tuition this year is $41,906, or $44,848 for upperclasspeople. I mean, for one year. TUITION AND FEES. More than $70K for non-nationals. The U tells folks they'll spend about 10K on housing and another thousand on books, plus a few thou on personal expenses and miscellaneous.
Rather than think about what kind of education I might have cobbled together if I were 30 years younger, I need to put my foot back up.
I caught up on Masters of Sex tonight. Since the sad and touching thing happened last time, we spurted ahead 5 months and then another year. I haven't been feeling real sympathetic for Bill lately, but tonight he had me, in some of what he uttered in pain, even if it came out as barely controlled fury.
I'm going to eat a painkiller tonight as much to get sleep (knock knock on some wood] (this keyboard with the broken zero & closing paren is really starting to bug me] (all the zeros above were pasted in] (I hope you can live with the asymmetry of my parenthesizing here] as to take the edge off the throbbing ankle. I did get almost 5 hours of sleep last night, and that was good, but still not really enough. Not enough to catch up.
When I was talking today about a little word joke, and got the little laugh at it from my witness, she said, "You miss that, don't you," and poof, there were the tears, in my eyes instantly, outta nowhere, half a nanosecond, and I knew how close the pain and that old joy are. They're right next to each other. They're too close. You can't touch one without touching the other.