DEAR MISS MANNERS: Having recently lost my job, I spend lots of time at home, and a lot of it on the phone with friends, family, etc. I consider myself lucky to have that large number of friends. However:

Gripe No. 1. I have given up my Call Waiting in order to cut my expenses, and it drives me crazy when everyone says, "Boy I can never reach you. Your phone is always busy."

Should I let this bother me? For years, when I had Call Waiting, these very same people never got a busy signal, while I got a busy signal whenever I called them. I feel it is rude of them to call my attention to my busy phone. Am I just being crabby?

Gripe No. 2. When people get my answering machine for various reasons when I cannot answer, they play guessing games, like "Are you screening your calls?" or "Are you in the bathroom?" or "Are you taking a nap?" or "I can't believe you are out of the house already." Why not just leave a message and be done with it? Am I getting annoyed for no reason?

GENTLE READER: No, you have a reason, but it is the same one for both gripes. It is that people are assuming that you have nothing better to do than to be at their beck and call, whenever they chose to call. Or, for that matter, to beck.

Miss Manners hastens to assure you that this has nothing to do with your being out of work. It has to do with the nature of the telephone itself, which is inherently rude because it interrupts people. People who got used to being able to barge in at any time resent the answering machine, because that returned control to the person being called. And when that rudest of devices, Call Waiting, came along, they welcomed the return of their power.

DEAR MISS MANNERS: I like to think I'm a good guest. I respond promptly to all invitations, and I always make a point of greeting the party-giver(s) upon arriving. I circulate, try to talk to as many people as is politely possible and always say goodbye to the host(s) when I leave.

But sometimes I wind up at parties that are uncomfortably crowded, or are held in basement apartments with uncomfortably low ceilings. (I'm over 6 feet tall, so this is an issue.) Under such circumstances, how long should I stay -- 30 minutes? An hour? -- to keep up a sociable facade before ducking out politely, pleading another engagement (even if it's only with my own couch)?

GENTLE READER: By ducking out, Miss Manners trusts that you, being an exemplary guest, could not possibly mean slipping out the door while the host's back is turned. That would be unthinkable.

The polite thing to do is to threaten as much. You run up to the host when he is obviously engaged in talking to others and say, "I don't want to interrupt the party, but unfortunately, I have to tear myself away." Then you blubber about what a wonderful time you had, how you hate to leave, how you wouldn't dream of letting him see you out and so on -- all said heartily -- while you back up toward the door. The leave-taking should add only about five minutes to the half-hour minimum you must stay.

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DEAR MISS MANNERS: My niece, married for several years and with two children (one newborn), discovered that her husband is a serial cheater. He travels on business weekly and routinely uses the Internet to set up liaisons in destination cities. She's heartbroken, confused and unsure of her next move.

How do I handle the next meeting with this scoundrel, which is likely to be a family gathering in my sister's home? I know I can't kill or even seriously wound him, but neither can I be the hail-fellow-well-met uncle of the past.

Should I greet him with a flat "Hello" and move away, leaving no doubt that I want no further conversation? Must I shake hands, which I would rather not do? I don't want to embarrass my sister or my niece, but I can't pretend that I'm glad to see the husband or even want to be in the same room with him even though we were formerly very friendly and have shared many happy times.

GENTLE READER: Shunning scoundrels is one of society's duties, sadly neglected by those who refuse to pass judgment, as well as by those who may have discovered that scoundrels sometimes make lively companions. Miss Manners is glad to see that you are ready to do your part.

As you have noticed, it is a complicated part. However, as much as you may want to protect society in general from cads, it is your niece in particular whose betrayal arouses your indignation. And she -- understandably, especially with a newborn baby -- has not yet decided what she will do.

She may reconcile with him, in which case cutting him off will cut you off from her. Even if she divorces him, she is likely to maintain some sort of relationship in regard to their children, and this may occasion your meeting him in her house or your sister's. You are therefore not free to administer the worst snub, which is to refuse to shake his hand, hold any conversation with him, or, indeed, recognize that he exists.

The social temperature you want to maintain until you know what will happen is not freezing, but cool. A flat hello and turning away is fine, and if you turn away fast enough you may be able to avoid shaking hands. In the case of a divorce you can lower the temperature to cold, which precludes anything but a curt nod, but if there is a reconciliation you can turn it up to lukewarm, adding short, neutral conversations.

DEAR MISS MANNERS: I know that sending thank-you cards is only appropriate when the gift giver has had to send a gift via the Postal Service or another party attendee. However, is it necessary to send a thank-you card if you have attended the event and have already thanked the giver countless times personally?

I received one and feel very offended by this action.

I know the receiver was grateful and that is enough for me. I feel that the thank-you sender did not send the card for the sake of etiquette but as a reminder that I should do the same, and I am deeply offended.

GENTLE READER: We live in a rude world. If the worst cause you can find to be offended about is that you received written thanks from someone to whom you gave a present, Miss Manners hopes you are grateful for your blessings.

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Brides are being callously deceived. Bridegrooms are being fed deliberate untruths. And not even necessarily by each other.

Armed with the true but dangerous knowledge that customs evolve with the times, amateur and professional wedding advisers have promulgated certain procedures as now being essential to a proper wedding. Often they try to claim that these changes are "traditional," as if they had been given the august imprimatur of etiquette.

Miss Manners would be grateful for this unrequested assistance if the new procedures were, in fact, proper. Aware that the 20th century wedding pattern still in vogue stopped corresponding to reality by about 1917, she has sanctioned changes herself. Not widespread ones, as it remains charming and amusing to see headstrong veterans of the various sexual revolutions mince along, disguised as parent-dominated innocents. But certain adjustments have become necessary.

For example, weddings often involve travel, now that the only people who marry the boy or girl next door are those who became overly friendly as neighbors during their first marriages. The save-the-date letters that annoy some guests are designed to allow them to take advantage of airplane bargains requiring advance purchase. No commitment is involved -- to the hosts, that is -- so when the actual wedding invitations arrive, the guests still have a chance to claim previous engagements.

Considering the time and trouble involved, it is no longer acceptable, as it once was, to invite some guests to the ceremony but not to the reception. Miss Manners never cared for that custom anyway.

But the innovations that are most widely followed, even by those who resent them, are vulgar, impractical or nonsensical -- and almost always expensive. Here are some that Miss Manners refuses to sanction:

-- That "wedding" is a collective noun referring to a long series of events -- minimally including an engagement party, numerous showers, bachelor and spinster (Miss Manners is incapable of saying "bachelorette") parties, a rehearsal dinner, the ceremony, a dinner, a dance and the next day's brunch -- until everyone concerned has been worn to a frazzle. And that they all require presents.

Only the ceremony and a celebration immediately after have the full sanction of etiquette; the rest is for those who have the stamina. A true engagement party is one at which the bride's father announces the engagement as a surprise, and showers are solely at the discretion of friends.

-- That the hosts are responsible for answering their own invitations as well as for issuing them. If there are no preprinted responses -- and sometimes even if there are -- guests claim to be stumped about what they are supposed to do. If there are no stamps on the return envelopes, they turn indignant.

It is as if they had never received an invitation before ("Would you like to catch a movie tonight?") without being handed the possible answers ("Now you're supposed to tell me either yes or no").

-- That hosts must allow anyone who is single to bring along that ubiquitous person known as "And Guest." And Guest doesn't know the hosts or care about the wedding, and if left at home, would allow the person who was invited to meet someone better disposed toward the occasion.

-- That the wedding couple is not only entitled but obligated to think up their own presents, and that guests are bound to buy them as directed. Worse, that guests are supposed to bring goods equivalent in value to the cost of the food and drink they receive. And that the couple has a year after the wedding in which to send their thanks.

Getting married does not endow people with the privilege of levying taxes or charging admission. It does give them the obligation of expressing their gratitude in writing immediately, and to refrain from complaining about what a burden it is to be the recipient of so many people's generosity. Presents are voluntary, and should be selected by the giver, but never brought along to the wedding, where collecting them causes no end of trouble.

-- That anyone who seeks to resist the pace, expenditure and anticipated take of a wedding, while increasing the amount of thoughtfulness required from and on behalf of the guests, must have no sense of romance. Or be impossibly romantic.

DEAR MISS MANNERS: I am perplexed by where the ladies-first rule came from in the first place. From a male perspective, I can conceive of men inventing it as a way to view female derrieres, or on the off chance that a hidden assassin will strike the lady first upon entering the room, instead of the less-than-gentlemanly fellow, but surely that was not why proper etiquette allowed for women to enter elevators, cars, doors, etc., first. If it were, then women would most readily decline.

GENTLE READER: Miss Manners thanks you for reminding us that the now-questionable premise from which the "ladies-first" notion sprang -- the courtly notion that ladies are delicate and pure and should be worshipped and protected -- was a vast improvement on the beastliness that went before. And for reminding us to protect ourselves if we see you approaching.

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