Born This Way

Honestly guys, I'm not a fan of Lady Gaga, don't have a poker face, don't give a damn about Alejandro, and do not plan to wear weird costumes in the future, but I just can't get this song out of my head. It might has to do with its positive message, as far as I understand the lyrics, plus the fact that I first heard it performed by someone else.
I do not want to discuss the Gaga phenomenon further, but take the title as a kind of motto. Not long ago we were talking about my self-destructive tendency to compare myself to anyone that happens to be around. Or actually not anyone, it would be an easy comparison that way, but I tend to shoot for the stars and compare myself to people who are my superior in one field or another. Luckily, humans do not tend to be my superior in more than one or two fields each.
For example, two days ago we had a family lunch at the Mongolian Barbecue Restaurant* initiated by my future mother-in-law. As it happened all her three sons graduated this semester (for my boyfriend it was his second degree), so she decided to organize a big treat. Actually we spent three hours eating and two more staring in front of us in pain. The point is, all the three girlfriends were there and then again I fell for comparing myself to the other two and the next day ran like mad to the shops to get myself some chic summer dress or nice miniskirt, bloody fool as I am.
Five six years ago, when I started uni I was like 45 kilos, and I actually spent a summer eating macrobiotic food, meaning all kinds of corn, fruit, and vegetables, mostly tasteless. Now I don't even bother to weigh myself as I'm sure I'm above 55, which might not be a big deal for my friends sexy with 80 kilos even, but I just cannot be satisfied with my present, well, figure. And of course the other two girlfriends, my future sisters-in-law, are all long thighs, high-heels, and petty bottoms. One of them doesn't have anything but salad and coffee, and I'm sure wears 34, while I'm happy to fit into a 38.
I've been doing Latin aerobics since February, which I enjoy very much, though without much effect figure-wise. I'm too lazy to do anything by myself, meaning push-ups and sit-ups, so what remains is buying clothes that tune me optically. So yesterday I did this desparate hunt with my loving and ever-patient-with-me sister with the result of nothing but severe pain in my feet. The dresses we found were, as usual, either ugly or beyond our financial limits, or if neither, then designed for starving third world teenagers, which we definitely aren't (at least not from the third world).
Luckily, last week I found an extremely sexy black and white striped minidress at a sale, which I completed with a pair of black stockings and nice earrings, so there's still hope that somebody at some time will see me as sexy, though definitely not in this pain-in-the-ass weather of forty degrees.
'Til then let me occupy myself panting and painting doors at the renovation, humming the excuse I always give for my deficiencies: I was born this way.

*At the moment their website is very basic but it is worth visiting them (in person, I mean). Loved the creamy peach soup and the aubergine pate extremely.