A whiter shade of pale?

I have been asked a genuine "How are You?" some ten times today. I have also been asked an "Are you all right?" some ten more times. And I am trying to see what is generating all this genuine concern. I just don't know. The only thing I can come up with is the fact that I look pale, sometimes very pale. Perhaps I also look as if I am in some magical trance, because I just am never sure where to go, which steps to take and I make sure that I stay well out of the reach of new people. One genuine colleague has said I look stressed out. But I don't feel stressed out. It's the colour of my skin which is making me look like this. I cannot help it. God just sent me white, sometimes too white. Perhaps that is what makes my Mister's life easy when it comes to choosing a shade of Dior foundation. I suppose it's pretty easy, the lightest shade goes... perfectly. And I'm no English rose. I'm just a one hell of a mix-up. I am the only girl in the family who gets black hair, brown eyes. Then I am the palest one of all. And while the other girls flaunt their blue eyes and blond hair, I have whiter than white skin. And of course my twin has been the one to be blessed with green eyes, then he gets a tanned complexion to go with it. That makes me just one thing; a mongrel. A bit from here, another bit from there, no wonder I don't look like anybody in my family. That is why I really believed I was adopted when I was 5, I thought that maybe they'd found me somewhere, taken me in, and told a big lie to go with it. People said my twin looked like my mum, and stopped short at me. And then I wonder why after 35+ years of living, I still feel like a misfit. If I'm lucky or unlucky I'll get some more 35 years. And then I can pull of my pale skin perfectly...