communication styles questionnaire

I bit the skin on the inside of my lip when people were all "RLY BEING TANNED AFFECTS WAT U WEAR??? WAT DUZ THAT HAVE 2 DO W/ NEFING???? OMG NO DONT LET UR SKIN COLUR DICTATE WAT U WEAR, BE A FREE SPIRIT11"
Perhaps I am more conscious of being darker because I am Asian, and if you have tanned skin youapos;re quite simply ugly and common. A few Thai female celebrities may have tanned skin, but itapos;s just for exotic variety. And apos;tannedapos; only describes the colour my skin is; I was born with medium skin, and it certainly deepens greatly in sunlight, but my point is that I will never be pale. I canapos;t just stay indoors, put on sunscreen and use hats and parasols to maintain a china-like complexion, I can only do that to prevent myself from getting any darker. If I were to use those whitening creams, Iapos;d have to use it all over my body. Thereapos;s a lot more fuss about being pale in Asia than there is about always being bronzed in the western world, I think. Well, people in
Thailand are more openly disparaging about people with dark skin ("Black as a crow" an advert might exclaim, before the dusky-skinned girl in question is transformed into a white-cheeked beauty because of a certain bleaching cream), while here itapos;s usually a lot of fuss made about being tanned. I canapos;t count the number of times Iapos;ve heard fair-skinned people here cry "I went on holiday and I got really tanned" or "I sunbathed all day in the garden and my legs are a beautiful brown..." and I look at them and, well, theyapos;re just as pale as ever. I just donapos;t see what the fuss is about, especially over a tan thatapos;s not even there.

It might seem to really take the piss that I seem to be whining about having skin that tans easily, but that shows the difference in our cultures. I know that tanning is much preferable to burning, particularly if you need to be out in the sun a lot, but that is a practical issue.

But anyway, there are certain colours I do not wear because they look awful. Certain strains of pastels, for example, just donapos;t go. It makes me look opaquely, vulgarly yellow And pinks must be very strong and bright, leaning more towards red or purple, or again, I look terribly yellow. Iapos;ve mentioned it before, but itapos;s only recently, when I started wearing brighter colours and prints, that I finally realized my skin was tan in colour... Before I just thought it was, erm, Asian coloured. Partly this came from a certain friend I had when I was younger, who emphasized that less colours suited my hair and skin tone, while she, with her English rose complexion and greenish mousy hair, could wear all sorts of colours while looking really fabulous. It is with a vindictive, petty smirk that I note that she is a plain little thing with awful, chunky, greasy hair. She doesnapos;t even have a force of personality, any real substance or appeal to her, which would overcome any kind of appearance. Sheapos;s a plain, grey kind of person.

What we forgive in the literal face of peopleapos;s pulchritude If somebody has a pleasant appearance, we might somehow feel cheated if their personality isnapos;t equally lovely. "Yeah, sheapos;s pretty, but." "Well heapos;s good looking, but." As if people with beautiful faces cannot help but also act in a beautiful way, as if everything is just an extension of their appearance - and what a horrid surprise when they donapos;t act appropriately But still. Theyapos;re beautiful. This somehow makes their faults seem weak, detached from their lovely appearances. And nothing can change their outward beauty, save time and accidents and bad decisions.

I miss my Stan He is so right, so utterly right for me, and he seems to think the same of me. It is a practical as well as emotionally satisfying relationship - Stan can take care of me. This may seem regressive and anti-feminist, but would you, as any half of a relationship, want to run around after your partner, having to tell him to do every little thing because he just canapos;t handle the rigour of taking care of himself, let alone another person? Stan is able to take care of me as I am able to take care of him. Itapos;s not that we embody the ideals of a perfect, romantic couple - he doesnapos;t shower me with roses or take me out for a night of wild dancing, ending with a kiss beneath a lampost - but we find such a shelter in each other. Stan is so steady and patient while I am skittish and erratic. It is awkward to write like this so I SHALL STOP THERE.

I have a tummy ache :C
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