I'm not quite sure (still) what to make of falling in love. Perhaps because it gradually starts to debilitate your logical reasoning.

That sickly feeling in the pit of your stomach that feels rather nice, if not a snitch worrisome on the nausea front. Your skin starts to tingle, and you do stupid things like drop two glasses of wine in quick succession down the front of your new cream bubble dress. He walks into the room, and you start acting like an imbecile.

You shove peanuts into your mouth just as he's asking you out for a drink, and then splutter something almost inaudible like, 'Ooh you just asked me out for a drink? Ooh you just asked me out for a drink!', while peanut crumbs stick to the corners of your mouth. Your bore holes through his shirt, wondering how his chest hairs are aligned, and giggle like a child who is being tickled under the armpits.

Oh-so-good...

All in all, it can be an embarrassing affair. It feels oh-so-good, but oh-so-terribly and bashfully painful at the same time. My current celebrity lustful affliction is Stuart Townsend.

Stuart is so hot he makes leprechaun briefs look cool. The Irish stud biscuit has a bit of a thing for normal South African women too. Not that Charlize is your normal South African woman, which kind of negates the whole argument, but honestly.

He's simply wonderful. So imagine having a guy like that asks you for dinner, or like in Charlize's case, bump into him on a set or something... Do you think Charlize was stoic about it?

Someone as beautifully elegant, tall, and swan-like, with the confident disposition that if this guy wasn't asking her out, another 647 men would? Us mere mortals tend to trip over our feet when a smashingly hot man takes our clothes off from the other side of the room using only his eyeball. The world stops turning on its axis, we pause for a moment, eyeball him back, and then turn on our heels, only to smack into a ginormous pot plant.

A hunky peice of beef

Stuart Townsend is a hunky piece of beef, and I'm guessing Charlz thought so too, when they first laid eyes on each other. As successful, together and confident as she is, do you think perhaps during those unforgettable moments consisting of the-morning-after-the-day-before, she walked around with cartoon hearts pulsing from her face?

Perhaps she followed up the intense feeling of automated lust with girlie conversations that comprised something like, 'I saw his naked body and it was pressed up against my chest!', I don't know.

Someone as hard as Angelina Jolie does give off the characteristic that she couldn't give a damn if Brad is having a mid-life crisis. Which is what the tabloids seem to be honing in on at the moment. I don't see her being the type to float around town, staring into space endlessly, dreaming about palm fronds and deserted islands where she and Brad would run off together, and feeling slightly nauseas with love. Perhaps I'm wrong. Maybe Charlize and Angelina lay awake tossing and turning for hours, thinking about the object of their affections.

Maybe they just didn't walk into plants, drop beverages down their fronts, giggle like idiots, and let things emerge from their mouths that they shouldn't, by any means, say. Example: 'Brad, don't you think knitting is so cool?'

Us mortals say silly things that we don't necessarily believe in, because our brains rewire and switch to pathetically-in-lust mode.

Charlize probably just marvelled him with images of the Benoni smallholding she grew up on. Angelina, perhaps, started a conversation off with Brad around orphans in Mongolia. Impressive, but hardly human. Surely?