The moment I saw Orlando Bloom, was the moment in which I realized he's only a human. Ok, so that seems like a "duh!" kind of statement, but it's true. As much as I admired his skin and his beauty in the five minutes I spent gazing at him, I, at the same time, felt a little twinge of guilt in the pit of my stomach. We pay him to pretend to be something he's not, and then we stand around in groups of giggley tens and suck all of his "famous" energy into ourselves, in order to what? Bask in his glory, touch his blessed hand, imagine what it might be like to be famous? I don't get it...and I don't think he does either. He seemed sort of uncomfortable and wouldn't you be too if there were fifty girls on the 2nd floor of founders hall staring at you like they just might cook you up and eat you for dinner? He just signs what's put in front of him, probably choking back the feeling that he's being used for his body.