Marty Nemko's Blog, page 234
December 23, 2019
A Jewish Atheist and Christmas: Finding the joy, dealing with the issues

Published on December 23, 2019 21:09
December 22, 2019
Memorable Counseling

On reflection, that shouldn’t be so surprising. Think of all the counseling, workshops, let alone college courses, you’ve taken. How much do you remember? If you’re like most people, not much lives beyond a day or two. Takeaways’ half-life is short indeed.
An antidote is for counselors — whether psychological, career, life coaching, whatever — to build-in memorability. Counselees can use some too. My PsychologyToday.com article today offers some tactics I’ve used.
Published on December 22, 2019 23:51
Your Slow Learner

If I had such a child, and moderate help yielded little progress, I would not do what so many parents do: add tons of tutoring, summer school, plus maximum nagging: Did you do your homework? Let’s go over your homework. Do that again, Johnny.
Nor would I do what some parents, who are driven at least in part by a misplaced sense of guilt that the problem is their fault, fight with the school district, even hiring an attorney to get yet more on top of the special ed services the school already provided, even demanding private school at taxpayer expense.
My PsychologyToday.com article today tells what I would do.
Published on December 22, 2019 00:12
December 20, 2019
Ignored or Rejected? Options for the ghosted and roasted

It’s hard to go through life feeling that way. As usual, there are no magic pills but maybe one or more of the ideas in my PsychologyToday.com article today will help.
Published on December 20, 2019 16:49
December 19, 2019
Marry? Should you aim for marriage? With your current partner?

The first attempted to help you get clear on what sort of person and relationship you’re actually looking for. It also described good ways to use online dating, getting set up, meeting at work, and participating in ongoing group activities.
The second installment offered tips on how to make the most of a first date, both in assessing the person and in making a good impression while being authentic.
Now, we turn to the big question, the M word, should you marry? And if so, is this person Mr/Ms Right? That's my PsychologyToday.com article today.
Published on December 19, 2019 21:03
The Big Bad Wolf: The other side of the story
I couldn’t help it. I was too hungry. Besides, I was pissed at them. Pissed at them all: the three little piggies, and with Peter. You know, Peter and the Wolf. They’re little, they’re cute, so everyone loves them. But not me, I'm big and ugly. They keep saying that what matters is what’s on the inside. Not really.
Speaking of which, I gotta take care of my insides. I am hungry, so I better go into my routine: You know, “The better to eat you with my dear?” I'm sick of it but it works.
Ah, that’s better. But as you may know, depending on which version of my story you read, soon after I’ve got the hero in my stomach, my guilt takes over and I have to vomit the lucky twit right back up again. Excuse me a moment.
That’s better. But now I’m hungry again. But finally, someone is paying attention to me, so I’ll talk with you for a few minutes before I find some fairy-tale twerp to eat. And this time, I will not vomit him up. You just wait and see.
You ask how a wolf can feel guilt? I’ll tell you how: My mother, that’s how. Every time I’d gnaw on a piece of furniture, let alone a deer—She’d only let me eat beavers, birds, and fish. I hate fish—She’d look at me with those big eyes and whimper, “How could you, Wolfie? How could you!?” So I spent my childhood feeling like crap just for doing what comes naturally.
Okay, enough of the psychobabble sob story. I need to get something to eat. They didn’t come up with the saying, “Hungry like a wolf” for nothing.
Hey, I think I see some easy prey. There’s this kid skipping down the lane singing, “To grandmother’s house I go.” Well, there’s only one house in this forest. I’ll break in, eat grandma, and then maybe have the kid for dessert.
What a naive grandma; the door’s open. Hmm, no grandma. She must have gone out to, ha-ha, kill a deer. People like to eat deer but the thought makes them squeamish so they call it venison. But I digress. I’ll hide and if the kid comes in, dinner is served.
Here she is! But she’s so cute. No, I can’t fall for that looks crap. I’m going to eat that kid! But she has her whole life ahead of her. And my mom would kill me if she knew I was dining on kid, even if it wasn’t a goat. No-- I’ll put on the stupid grandma babushka and her apron.
Little Red Riding Hood exclaimed, “My what big ears you have.”
“The better to hear with you with my dear.” I’m hungry. I’ll skip widening my eyes. I don’t need to hear “Grandma what big eyes you have.” I’ll cut to the chase and flash my teeth.
“Grandma, what big teeth you have.”
“Bingo. Better to eat you my dear.” Aw shit, I just don’t have the heart. “Kid, I’m the Big Bad Wolf, and at the risk of screwing up your 500-year-old fairy tale, I’m outta here. I’m gonna get some fast food, a bird or something. Get out of here before I change my mind.
Why I can’t I be a dog? They all have some wolf in ‘em. Then, some nice person would feed me special recipes made just for me and I wouldn’t have to hunt. The opposite: They’d pet me, they'd rub my belly, hell, they'd let me sleep in the bed with them as long as I didn’t pee there.
Wishful thinking. I’m just a wolf, a big bad wolf. I’m consigned by my family of origin and hundreds of years of puerile fairy tales to be the bad guy: The Big Bad Wolf. Maybe I should see a shrink.
Speaking of which, I gotta take care of my insides. I am hungry, so I better go into my routine: You know, “The better to eat you with my dear?” I'm sick of it but it works.
Ah, that’s better. But as you may know, depending on which version of my story you read, soon after I’ve got the hero in my stomach, my guilt takes over and I have to vomit the lucky twit right back up again. Excuse me a moment.
That’s better. But now I’m hungry again. But finally, someone is paying attention to me, so I’ll talk with you for a few minutes before I find some fairy-tale twerp to eat. And this time, I will not vomit him up. You just wait and see.
You ask how a wolf can feel guilt? I’ll tell you how: My mother, that’s how. Every time I’d gnaw on a piece of furniture, let alone a deer—She’d only let me eat beavers, birds, and fish. I hate fish—She’d look at me with those big eyes and whimper, “How could you, Wolfie? How could you!?” So I spent my childhood feeling like crap just for doing what comes naturally.
Okay, enough of the psychobabble sob story. I need to get something to eat. They didn’t come up with the saying, “Hungry like a wolf” for nothing.
Hey, I think I see some easy prey. There’s this kid skipping down the lane singing, “To grandmother’s house I go.” Well, there’s only one house in this forest. I’ll break in, eat grandma, and then maybe have the kid for dessert.
What a naive grandma; the door’s open. Hmm, no grandma. She must have gone out to, ha-ha, kill a deer. People like to eat deer but the thought makes them squeamish so they call it venison. But I digress. I’ll hide and if the kid comes in, dinner is served.
Here she is! But she’s so cute. No, I can’t fall for that looks crap. I’m going to eat that kid! But she has her whole life ahead of her. And my mom would kill me if she knew I was dining on kid, even if it wasn’t a goat. No-- I’ll put on the stupid grandma babushka and her apron.
Little Red Riding Hood exclaimed, “My what big ears you have.”
“The better to hear with you with my dear.” I’m hungry. I’ll skip widening my eyes. I don’t need to hear “Grandma what big eyes you have.” I’ll cut to the chase and flash my teeth.
“Grandma, what big teeth you have.”
“Bingo. Better to eat you my dear.” Aw shit, I just don’t have the heart. “Kid, I’m the Big Bad Wolf, and at the risk of screwing up your 500-year-old fairy tale, I’m outta here. I’m gonna get some fast food, a bird or something. Get out of here before I change my mind.
Why I can’t I be a dog? They all have some wolf in ‘em. Then, some nice person would feed me special recipes made just for me and I wouldn’t have to hunt. The opposite: They’d pet me, they'd rub my belly, hell, they'd let me sleep in the bed with them as long as I didn’t pee there.
Wishful thinking. I’m just a wolf, a big bad wolf. I’m consigned by my family of origin and hundreds of years of puerile fairy tales to be the bad guy: The Big Bad Wolf. Maybe I should see a shrink.
Published on December 19, 2019 19:16
December 18, 2019
The First Date: Judging Wisely and Making a Good Impression While Staying Authentic

Published on December 18, 2019 23:11
December 17, 2019
Finding a Great Romantic Partner

Published on December 17, 2019 22:26
December 16, 2019
8 Potentially Life-Changing Gifts

Published on December 16, 2019 21:06
December 15, 2019
Finding Your Personal Philosophy

Published on December 15, 2019 23:37
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