Lola was an angel

I'm a dirty blog-neglecter, I know. I got internet privileges revoked again. There's not much point in getting into the whys, but I'm back now.

I met someone new. I'm not attracted to him. I have a feeling that his parents paid his way in. Usually this place takes "interesting cases", or the criminally insane. This guy Nate and I boned. He's pretty normal. And that's not me being subjective. I asked him what he was doing here, and he said that he'd dared to deviate from the path of concrete and asbestos paved by our elders and betters. His parents own a hotel chain, and he's been on snow and blow since he left boarding school. He should be in rehab, but apparently his parents thought better.

The sex is average. Really average. But it slaps Ketch in the face. And right now he needs a slap in the face. His mooning after me is not on. It really isn't.

I can't help but wonder if I should just give up. I think if I capitulated and started pretending to take therapy seriously I might be able to get out of here and get control of my own life again. I could go to Laney's wedding. I could start eating what the fuck I want when I want, and run in the open instead of circles in my bedroom. I can wear my "inappropriate" dresses and tall, tall shoes. I can shave my legs again. You know how much it sucks, having to wait until the hairs on your legs are long enough to be plucked out with your fingers? It's disgusting and I hate it.

Jesus... The thought of giving in feels like puking up my integrity.