The Achiever

Most people would think giving up a well paid job as a scientist for the MoD and working part-time in a bookshop, whilst doing charity work in the midst of a recession, is crazy. But that’s exactly what Miss Jones has done. She has taken a leap of faith that few of us are willing to make and now she is reaping the rewards. I met Miss Jones on her return from L’Aquila, the Italian town hit by a massive earthquake earlier this month. My first thought was that the photographs of Miss Jones in her Shelterbox T-Shirt, standing by a recently constructed tent in the village of Assergi, don’t do her justice. But then the slim 36-year-old had travelled for 36 hours to reach the quake hit region as a member of the Shelterbox Response Team. As the team arrived in the shadow of Gran Sasso d’Italia (the Great Stone of Italy), snow-capped mountains and green fields masked the destruction. In the village of Assergi, 20kms from the epicentre of the earthquake in the Abruzzo region of central Italy, hundreds of families began to wake up and get out of their cars. The quake, which killed nearly 300 people, injured thousands and left hundreds of families homeless, caused wide spread devastation in the early hours of Monday April 6. Measuring 6.3 on the Richter Scale the earthquake and subsequent nightly aftershocks had turned the town of L’Aquila into a river of rubble. Villagers living in Assergi had been told to leave their unstable homes. Seeking shelter in nearby fields they had abandoned houses with cracks in the walls and debris from upstairs bedrooms weighing down on kitchen tables below. Miss Jones trained as a response team member with Shelterbox, a Cornish based charity which provides boxes including 10 man tents, cooking utensils, tool kits and blankets to people in disaster struck areas. It was her first deployment. The well-travelled, Italian speaking scientist who works part-time in Waterstones, had shaken free of her previous office based existence.

J.A Rush

Some men go to extraordinary lengths to be with a woman. But some men, including J.A Rush, take it a step too far. The American was so smitten with a woman he met last week in a bar in Naperville, Illinois that he called in a phony 911 report of gunfire in the city's far north west side. According to the three page police report, 33 year old Rush, hoped the gunshot distraction would leave the way open for him to swoop in and apprehend the inebriated woman he had been chatting up earlier on (she was so drunk, she was in the care of officers). Police trying to trace the emergency caller soon found out who the culprit was and confronted him. Rush denied making the phone calls, but his mobile told a different story and rang out in his pocket whilst police questioned him. Now he faces trial on a charge of placing a false emergency call. Surely asking her would have been a far simpler way of getting a date? All you have to do is Google it. In fact if Rush had searched for dating tips, he may have realised that although aversion tactics sometimes work, third parties (especially law enforcement) should not be tricked into leaving a half-cut woman alone whilst they rush off to the O.K. Corral. Intrigued by shared dating tips and for the benefit of J.A Rush, I thought it prudent to see what one should do when in a situation which calls for a bit of dating know how (and translate what they really mean):
1. Why are you asking them out, is it for the right reasons and what do you expect as a result of them saying yes or no? At this early stage, one would assume it's because you think they are hot. Surely the humiliation of being turned down is something you deal afterwards?
2. Be prepared that the person you ask may say no and in which case do not take the rejection personally. Sound advice, but a total lie. They obviously don't fancy you. Deal with it.
3. When asking someone out choose your moment carefully and practise what you might say in advance so that you don't appear tongue-tied. What are you meant to do – get your note book out?
4. Make sure that when you ask someone on a date you smile and keep things fun and happy. Being confident and smiley will elicit a far more positive response. Ah, a bit of multi-tasking. Whilst reading from your note book smile idiotically and appear fun.
5. Try to avoid dutch-courage such as using alcohol to boost your courage levels as this will often backfire. Getting your note book out, whilst smiling idiotically, appearing fun-loving and trying to maintain an air of sophistication after downing several shots of Sambuca is likely to fail.
Lastly. Don't ask someone out when they are in a group of friends. Timing is everything. Okay, so avoid drunkenly walking up to a man or a woman in a bar whilst they are enjoying the company of their friends, don't interrupt their conversation or get your note book out whilst smiling idiotically, appearing fun-loving and downing drinks.

The Dark Side

Photographer Cecil Beaton had been trying to arrange the shoot for three months, but she still turned up an hour and 15 minutes late at a suite in New York's Ambassador hotel. According to Beaton, the blonde bombshell squealed with delight and leapt onto the sofa putting a flower stem into her mouth and pretending to smoke it. I get the impression he wasn't too impressed with her avant garde nature. Pictured laughing into a cushion with apparent abandon, her slightly puffy eyes smile back at the camera. Marilyn Monroe was the ultimate blonde and dated a string of high profile men, yet her dark haired co-stars pocketed fatter wage packets. Now, in the midst of a recession, blonde women are dyeing their hair brown to be taken more seriously in the office. Twenty first century screen siren Scarlett Johansson kick started the trend by adopting a more sober shade. Researchers (or rather Superdrug staff handing out surveys) found 62 per cent of people think brunettes look more professional than blondes in the workplace. This has led to fair headed women darkening their locks - with the current economic climate partially to blame. The researchers found redheads have the most sex - enjoying a romp three times a week, compared to twice a week for brunettes. Blondes emerged as the most adventurous in the bedroom. Brushing the survey twaddle aside, I decided I wanted a change and it was after much debate (and without the aid of Superdrug's statistics) that I crossed over to the dark side. Whether it results in a fatter pay cheque remains to be seen.

Kung Fu Panda

If you don't know who Susan Boyle is you will shortly. She's 48 and never been kissed. A friendly church worker with downy hair creeping over her un made up face. Bushy eyebrows, fuzzy hair and a nylon gold flecked dress your great grandmother would have been proud to wear. From a tiny village in Scotland she shuffled onto the stage drawing sniggers from the audience - that was until she opened her mouth. The single unemployed cat lover has an amazing voice. Following her rendition of I Dreamed A Dream from Les Miserables the audience gave her a standing ovation. For most of her life she has been overlooked by everyone (with the exception of her cat Pebbles). So when my northern Irish friend with the husky voice asked why there are no decent men around I thought of Sue. I'm not referring to her mannish looks. I'm also not suggesting ladies should let their eyebrows grow out of control and walk around with a nest of hair all day. And I'm certainly not about to set up campaign group lobbying for hairy women, but perhaps, myself included, we need to stop failing to notice people. Take Mr Muddy from the dating website. He may have be consigned to the proverbial scrap heap of potential husbands for having smaller proportions, but what if he's hilariously funny? It's a bit like swapping Bond for Kung Fu Panda. Set for an evening of Daniel Craig running about in a suit/impossibly tight shirt relatively unscathed as missiles explode all around him, I got a text message from my housemate. It read: "I went in for Bond and came out with Kung Fu Panda". "Never mind" I said, "It's meant to be funny". And it was.

Napoleon complex

An angry male of below average height who feels it necessary to act out in an attempt to gain respect and recognition from others and compensate for his abnormally short stature. Also synonymous to little man syndrome. Okay so he wasn't Mr Angry, but there were height issues. “He just needs a good stretching,” she drawled in her husky northern Irish voice. Poor Mr Muddy - an inch or two taller and he may have got himself a farmer's wife. But just how big a deal is height? Scientists have warned small men do make more jealous husbands and lovers than their taller, more relaxed counterparts. Diminutive males from Napoleon Bonaparte to Tom Cruise have been accused of overcompensating for a lack of physical stature (and not just by wearing heels). The conventional wisdom is that Napoleon overcompensated for his short height by seeking power, war and conquest. Earlier this week French president Nicolas Sarkozy threatened to walk out of the G20 summit saying he would not accept a compromise if the final communique did not come up to his expectations, and especially if it failed to call for stricter regulation on tax havens. In fact what he actually said was far more synonymous with short man syndrome, informing aides: "If things don't advance in London, there will be an empty chair. I'll get up and leave." Well that's Napoleon complex for you.

Rice milk

“What do you have on your porridge?” The police family liaison officer inquired, his uniform carefully pressed and his black shoes buffed to a high shine. The three of us waited in the foyer of the crown court for the Dartmoor based judge, who learns French and wears a flat cap, to start proceedings. It was the sentencing of the teenage boy racer found guilty of death by dangerous driving. He killed his girlfriend when the car he was driving left the road, flipped over and smashed into a tree. Floral tributes swamped the spot near the blind bend and other parents, who had also suffered losses there, campaigned for speed cameras and lamented the loss of another young life. Two of us sat on the bright green chairs and the FLO stood up. The slightly older sergeant talked animatedly about his position as a firearms officer and the impossible fitness test that saw him pitted against much younger recruits. He had been at the scene of the accident when the driver shouted “I think I've killed my girlfriend”. Wrapped up in a high visibility coat and gloves he had been at the same spot more than a year later when the jury visited the crash site. “So what do you have on your porridge?” The conversation brought about a light hearted relief from the reality of the situation and once again we were on the same team. “Rice milk,” I laughed. A few moments later the the teenagers name was read out and we hurriedly gathered our professions about us and walked into court room one.