My career in advice-giving started in 1988 — with a cardboard sign, "Free Advice From A Panel of Experts." Two friends and I set it out on a Soho, New York, street corner and sat down next to it in folding chairs. We just wanted to give people a laugh as they were walking past. But it was New York; the sign said "free"; people wanting advice lined up around the block.

We had suggested topics on our sign — lofty stuff like "Wigs and Beards," "Recessionary Lifestyles," and "Getting Rid of Your Jerk." But people started asking us serious questions, and I thought, "Eekers...I'd better learn a few things, and fast." I hadn't even taken psychology in college.

But I've always been a big reader, and I started mowing through books by and about all the biggies of psychology. However, without professors to instruct me on whom I was supposed to be appropriately worshipful of, I veered off into the dangerous territory of free thought — noticing, for example, "Holy moly, Freud just made stuff up."

Midway through my reading project, The New York Times ran a wee Styles section story on my partners and me, and we started to get a lot of media attention. We got offered a column in the New York Daily News. But after a few years of writing it, both of my partners dropped out, and it became my column.

One day, a second paper called, wanting to run my column — right away, rush-rush. "What do you want us to call it?" they asked. Um...um...I looked over at my business card, which, back then, said, "Amy Alkon, Freelance Goddess." (In my defense, this was pre-Burning Man and before Goddess was the name of every green drink and yoga studio across the globe.) "Call it 'The Advice Goddess,'" I told them.

Though advice columns are traditionally the fluff of the paper, I was very aware that these were real people's lives I was weighing in on, and I was terrified of screwing up. Also, it seemed irresponsible to give advice solely based on opinion.

I started going to academic conferences, reading scientific studies, and, eventually, having talks with an epidemiologist and statistician on how to vet study methodology. Researchers have been incredibly generous to me — and seem to respect how, well...maniacal I am about getting their work right.

The column has really evolved — to the point where my answer to every question is intensely science-driven; basically, it's applied behavioral science. So...with the evolution of my column comes the evolution of my column's name — to The Science Advice Goddess.

Happy continued reading...—Amy Alkon

Rebooty And The Beast

I'm a woman in my 30s. I was married for five years, but now, thank God, I'm divorced and about two years into a wonderful new relationship. Disturbingly, I occasionally call my boyfriend by my awful ex-husband's name. He laughs it off, but it really freaks me out. Should I see a neurologist? Is my memory going? Or — gulp — do I miss my ex on some subconscious level? — Disturbed

Right about now, you've got to be recognizing the unexpected benefits of those gas station attendant shirts with the guy's name sewn onto them.

As with dead bodies carelessly submerged after mob hits, it's unsettling to have your ex's name bobbing up when you love somebody new. Naturally, you suspect the worst — that you're subconsciously pining for the ex. But — good news! — the likely reason for your name swapperoos is something you should find comfortingly boring. According to research by cognitive scientists Samantha Deffler and David C. Rubin, we're prone to grab the wrong name out of memory when both names are in the same category — for example, men you've been seriously involved with or, in the pet domain, gerbils you've dressed in tiny sexy outfits.

You might also keep in mind that your ex's name was the default for "man in my life" for more than twice as long as the new guy's. Other memory research suggests that especially when you're tired, stressed, or multitasky, it's easy to go a little, uh, cognitively imprecise. You send your mindslave off into your brain — back to the "My Guy" category — and the lazy little peasant just grabs the name he spent five years grabbing. So, you might think of this as a mental workforce issue. The Department of Emotions isn't even involved.

However, research by cognitive psychologist Robert Bjork suggests that you can train your memory to do better through "spaced retrieval" — correcting yourself just post-flub by asking and answering "Who is the man in my life?" and then letting a few minutes pass and doing it again. But considering that you have a partner who just laughs at your errors, your time would probably be better spent appreciating what you have: an easygoing sweetheart of a guy and no readily apparent need for a neurologist. Bottom line: Your calling the guy by the wrong name probably points to a need for a nap, not unwanted company — as in, a tumor named Fred squatting in the crawlspace behind your frontal lobe.

Insecurity Blanket

I'm extremely insecure about my looks, though objectively, I know I'm pretty. I constantly ask my boyfriend for reassurance. He gives it to me but feels bad that I feel this way. Now I'm worrying that I'm making such a good case for what's wrong with me that he'll start believing me. Possible? — Bag Over Head

One oft-overlooked beauty secret is to avoid constantly giving a guy the idea that you might actually be ugly.

People will sneer that it's "shallow" to care about how you look, and they're probably right — if it's all you care about. However, research confirms what most of us recognize about the especially eye-pleasing among us: They get all sorts of benefits — everything from social perks to job opportunities to discounts when they act like dirtbags (with judges assigning them lesser fines and a lower rate of bail for misdemeanors).

As a woman, being babe-alicious is a pretty vital tool for landing and maintaining a relationship, because the features that men — across cultures — evolved to consider beautiful are actually health and fertility indicators. So, for example, full lips and an hourglass bod are basically evolution's bumper sticker: "Your genes passed on here!"

Not surprisingly, psychologist Tracy Vaillancourt, who researches competition among women, explains that women attack other women "principally on appearance and sexual fidelity" because men prioritize these qualities in their partners. One way women chip away at rivals is by trash-talking another woman's looks to a man — suggesting he really could do better. That's what you're doing — but to yourself. It's the relationship version of "Ewww, you're not really gonna eat that, are you?" (And you're the fricasseed crickets.)

Beyond that, constantly begging a romantic partner for reassurance — while being kind of a black hole for it — can be toxic to a relationship. Also, the fact that your need for reassurance seems bottomless suggests it's not your exterior but your interior that's in need of work. Get cracking on that, and try to remember that your boyfriend is with you for a reason — and it probably isn't that your mom and grandma are crouched behind your sofa, holding him at gunpoint.

Got a problem? Write Amy Alkon, 171 Pier Ave., #280, Santa Monica, CA 90405, or email [email protected] (www.advicegoddess.com). Her latest book is "Good Manners for Nice People Who Sometimes Say F*ck."