Well, whatever is contributing to my putrid state of health, it's definitely not emotional. I think the emotions are a by-product... kinda like when they cut the leaves of the coca tree to make cocaine... or something like that. Turns out, I have Bronchitis. And if I'm not careful, that could lead to Pneumonia and a hospital bed.
But all that didn't stop me from my latest (ongoing) escapades.
If I didn’t know any better, I’d say it’s his eyes. But the thing is, I do know better. And sometimes I even know too much for my own damn good.
But before I continue, let’s get one thing straight. Fantasy is not my genre. Neither is Sci-Fi and the like. I prefer the real world during my bouts of escapism or during one of my delusional episodes – or as close to the real world as one can get. That said, The Vampire Diaries (TVD) was not on the top of my list of shows that I have to watch before I die. My fascination with Hollywood’s take on Vampires and Demons died when Buffy left Sunnydale and Angel was about to fight to his death in a grand apocalyptic ending. As it is, I deal with enough real-life Demons.
But TVD is a little different. It came highly recommended by one of my cousins and after yawning my way through the first few episodes, I became hooked (like those Bolivians who chew on them Coca leaves). I must admit that I didn’t like Damon Salvatore much during those first few episodes; I thought he was an obnoxious pompous arrogant ass and failed to see what was so wonderful about him. But then, the storyline took a curve, and we all got to see the real Damon Salvatore... the tough unyielding exterior masking a tortured wounded soul... the once good guy that becomes evil... much like Anakin Skywalker (not that I ever watched Star Wars... just saying).
And believe me, there’s nothing a woman likes more than a bad boy with redeemable qualities. We want to save him – save him from whatever ails him, save him from the darkness within himself... take him home and heal those wounds. Add to that, the man is more than just fine, he’s damn well BEAUTIFUL, and voila! He has majority of the female population utterly breathless, eating out of the palm of his hand. And every woman secretly believes that she’s THE ONE that can do that... she’s the one that can save him and make it alright and in return, he will love her eternally for it. And the same goes for our male counterparts.
It’s such bullshit innit. And yet it’s true. As people, we’re wired to want to save each other and expect to be compensated for it with appreciation and ardour. It gives our lives some kind of warped purpose or meaning. It goes without saying that every single female I know that watches The Vampire Diaries, all feel the same about Damon Salvatore. He is utterly delectable. There aren’t many people out there that I find inspirational or that stir my senses in admiration and I find that I often want to – and I quote – “BAKE him naked and eat him for dessert”!!! He inspires such passionate sentiments because I – like all the other females that have observed him intently on TVD – believe that I can save him.
BUT... and it’s a huge but; the same can’t be said about the actor that plays Damon Salvatore, a one Ian Somerhalder. It takes a particular amount of intelligence to recognise that while Ian Somerhalder IS Damon Salvatore, Damon Salvatore ISN’T Ian Somerhalder! They’re completely different people and Ian is nothing like Damon. Ian wants to save the Polar Bears. Damon wants to eat them. Sure, they're both still gorgeous specimens worthy of our devotion... but there isn’t that perfunctory broodi-ness that makes Damon, DAMON.
Who can forget that beautiful scene between Damon and Rose... oh man, I needed therapy after that scene. If there is ever a scene from television that I will remember forever, it will be that moment, when he held her as she died. It's the single most beautiful thing I've ever witnessed on television, EVER. Man I want to cry just thinking about it!
Anyways, and so it happened. Last week Tuesday evening, while I was reveling in my nausea, I happened to come across some information that indicated that Ian Somerhalder was on his way to South Africa. Being the sceptic that I am, I chose not to take it too seriously and then, I was met with the following information on Twitter, as soon as he tweeted it on Wednesday morning:
He’s here to shoot a documentary with a “friend”, in the African bush apparently. Of course, I was elated. If I played my cards right, I’d finally have the chance to speak to Damon... obviously after insisting that Ian talk to me the way that Damon would. I even imagined what I’d say to him:
Me: Oh Damon, it’s not that I love you... it’s just that, I LOVE YOU!
Ian: My name is Ian.
Me: Whatever you say Damon.
Ian: You mean Ian.
Me: Anything for you Damon...
And so I set out on the prowl, equipped with my camera and iron-clad will power, determined to find Ian Somerhalder so that I could hug him, kiss him on the cheek, pinch his bum and tell him that Damon is way hotter than he’ll ever be. After all, it isn’t rocket science and it’s quite possible to find almost anyone in this technologically advanced age (and that’s why we don’t buy into the story of taking 10 years to find Osama).
I was lucky in that Mr. Somerhalder decided to do some sightseeing at Nelson Mandela Square where one of my friends spotted him with one of his friends looking at the statue of Nelson Mandela. She described him as “even better looking in real life” – as if! How could that possibly be?! Would that mean that I'd have to dig my fucking eyes out after looking at him?! Man, if I was hungry before, I was positively salivating at this news!! Dammit, Damon! So near, yet so far.
And so my mind went into overdrive and with the help of some other friends in *ahem* higher places, I found out which hotel they were booked into. To think that Damon Salvatore is but a mere 15 minutes away from me, sleeping under the same starry sky, breathing in the same air?!?! It made me postal!! Scrambling around, thinking of every single thing I’d need to make my dream come true... my rollerblades – check; handcuffs – check... And then it struck me, I had the sudden urge to star in my very own Wildlife documentary. I reckoned I just needed to practice my growl and get a bear suit. I was more motivated and determined then Tony Robbins in my quest to look Ian Somerhalder in the eye and compel him to channel his inner Damon.
But it all fell apart when in my excitement, I failed to notice that my body had betrayed me. The nausea had returned with a vengeance and with it, a severe bout of heaving in its wake; along with what felt like several kittens clawing their way out of my throat, a fever so high it could melt those polar caps and oxygen that burned through my lungs. Busses could have ran over me, I wouldn’t have known. I was devastated! I didn't want Damon to see me and my pukey face! I didn’t even have the energy to carry myself – never mind a one Ian Somerhalder in handcuffs. Oh the thought!
Ever the optimist, I decided to let Ian be and took to my bed where I spent the next few days holed up in oblivion. It didn’t matter though because by Friday morning, he was already in the bushes of Africa... busy shooting this documentary; and by Wednesday / Thursday of this week, he’ll be in New York City (see what a fantastic stalker am I? CIA should hire me, seriously).
I did find it very amusing how people interpreted my shenanigans on Facebook and Twitter. For instance, most females could relate to my excitement and were very supportive in that regard. And most of the guys were somewhat silently jealous... most even assuming that I’d want to shag the guy. And this right here, is the fundamental difference between males and females. See with males, everything is about competition and sex. And how foolish they are to assume that it’s the same with women – or should I say, how foolish some women have been to perpetuate and endorse those false beliefs.
With women in general it’s different. With me in particular, it was never about shagging Damon Salvatore. Nothing good will ever come from having a one night stand with someone that you’re so infatuated with! It’s much much deeper than that. I want to OWN him. I want him to be MINE. I want to brush his hair and feed him grapes. I want him to call me during his blood-sucking breaks. I want to bake cookies for his Mother. I want to be the first woman he thinks of in the morning when he opens those gorgeous blue eyes. I want to make it all better and I want him to love me for it dammit, it's that simple!
But alas, it can never be – because Damon Salvatore does not exist. All we have is a lovely chap called Ian Somerhalder... a talented actor, environmentalist extraordinaire, saver of the world's rainforest's and chimps. Mind, he is lovely. And he does make me want to save all the bears and dolphins and hippos.
All's not lost though. There’s still a chance to meet this Ian Somerhalder. As it is, he's back in Johannesburg right NOW! ;D
*Blog title a play on Craig David's "Slicker than your average" - alluding to my current state of health & even sicker state of mind =P