When two minor business trends were recently reported at the same time, Miss Manners was disappointed not to find a theory stringing them together. She always enjoys learning how the economy will be permanently affected by what toddlers want for Christmas this year and where interns are going for lunch.

One trend is that people who have been working for themselves out of their homes, freelancing or running their own small businesses, are said to be applying for the types of jobs, complete with set hours, offices and bosses, that they had been glad to escape.

The other is that the home-like accommodations and perks that had been offered to soften the terms of such jobs, such as stylistic informality and expense-account sociability, are being cut back.

Anyone can posit an economic connection here: Hard times mean that people want steady incomes and that businesses stop offering frills. Miss Manners is fishing for something with a cultural implication.

In keeping with the social sciences tradition of using any available evidence to bolster one's own prejudice (an example being trends simultaneously used to prove that children of stay-at-home mothers are either better off or worse off), she concludes that people are finally realizing that we went too far in making the home productive and the workplace homey.

There are undeniable advantages, she admits, to getting things done at home and goofing off at work. Furthermore, the antiquated structure of the American workplace, which still operates on the assumption that a worker has no personal responsibilities and someone who does has no need of earning a living -- the two being married to each other -- makes this necessary.

Nevertheless, the clacking of office equipment, the constant telephone availability and the squelching of innocent activities at the slightest indication that they might interfere with work are bound to get on the nerves of people who hold the old-fashioned view that home is a place to relax and enjoy the company of family and friends. Meanwhile, the parties, gift exchanges and other pressures to treat colleagues as if they were family or friends are bound to annoy those who hold the old-fashioned view that work is a place to get work done.

There is also something demoralizing about the disorientation these hybrids create. Putting on one's professionalism, in behavior and dress, can be invigorating, as those who work at home in their bathrobes eventually concede. At the very least, this exercise provides the relief of shedding the crisp for the cozy upon returning home.

Miss Manners is sadly aware that until society recognizes that everyone needs to earn a living and everyone needs to have a personal life, everyone will be caught between the two. The satisfaction of working at home and socializing at work are both sabotaged by knowing that one is doing full justice to neither realm.

As an interim measure until workplace reform catches up with daily life, Miss Manners rejoices to see ersatz socializing being cut from the work routine. The next step should be to hand over to the workers the time saved, especially that from evening gatherings and weekend retreats, for their own true personal use.

DEAR MISS MANNERS: What is the polite way one goes about eventually learning the last name of a new acquaintance?

As much as it used to be the case that one would first introduce oneself by one's last name and only reveal one's first name under more intimate circumstances, it is now the custom in most social circles to introduce oneself solely by the first name. I find myself generally reduced to the subversive tactics of finding some list in which the name is written or asking a third mutual acquaintance who happens to know, but surely etiquette has a better solution.

GENTLE READER: You might ask at the time of the introduction. Miss Manners finds that most people remember their own surnames when prompted, even if they haven't used them for years.

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DEAR MISS MANNERS: I brought a bottle of coconut rum to a gathering of close friends at a friend's house, and got caught in the middle of a "Which Bottle is Mine?" dilemma.

Another friend brought an identical bottle. Throughout the evening, everyone was enjoying their drinks (responsibly, of course). When it came time to go home, the other person told me how she "would take her bottle home since it wasn't opened."

Whether or not the unopened bottle is the one I brought or the one she brought is irrelevant in my opinion. While I don't see myself as a greedy person, was it a little presumptuous to assume the bottle that everyone used for mixed drinks was "mine" and the unopened bottle was "hers?"

GENTLE READER: Annoying as this was, Miss Manners cannot advise you to grab back the bottle and say, "No, that's mine! Mine, mine, mine!"

But if she is correct in assuming that you are more annoyed at having a dirty trick pulled on you than you are disappointed not to go home with your rum, she does have recourse to suggest. Say, pleasantly but loudly enough for everyone to hear, "Oh, I thought it was mine, and I was going to leave it for our host to enjoy."

DEAR MISS MANNERS: When someone sneezes around me, I say "God bless you." But when a person continues to sneeze three or four times after that, is it still appropriate to say "God bless you," or is the first one sufficient enough?

GENTLE READER: The correct sequence is:

1. "God bless you."

2. "Bless you again."

3. "Are you all right?"

4. (and thereafter) "Don't you think you should be home in bed?"

DEAR MISS MANNERS: When I was in college I met the one girl in my life that I will never be able to forget. We were engaged, but she broke it off realizing we were both too young to follow through with such a serious commitment. We continued to see each other after college as very close friends.

Several years ago, we lost contact with each other and last month I found out that she died. Since I have finally admitted to myself that I never really got over her, I am devastated by the news.

Now I am trying to sort out all of my feelings surrounding her death. I find myself trying to find out the details of how she died and what her life was like since we lost contact, but it's been impossible to find out anything. I am considering writing to her parents to ask them my questions. Is that appropriate? I feel like I might be intruding on their privacy, but my urge to find out about her is constantly tugging at my heart.

GENTLE READER: Far from being an invasion of privacy, a letter of condolence to the bereaved is a kindness.

That is what you mean to send, Miss Manners trusts: a letter expressing your sympathy and your admiration, and omitting "So -- was she seeing anyone?" and "Did she regret losing me?" If you show a loving interest in the lady's life without sharing your misgivings, you may be sure that her parents will be only too glad to talk about her with you.

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DEAR MISS MANNERS: I find it very self-centered and not at all mannerly for people to specify that a wedding or other family event be "black tie only." It's akin to inviting guests to an "all white" wedding, where everyone attending is supposed to wear only white, or a medieval-themed wedding where guests are not welcome unless they are in Renaissance attire. (I've heard of such weddings!)

If this were a dinner party or New Year's Eve party, for example, people like me who do not own formal wear could simply decline the invitation. But a wedding or bar mitzvah is a once-in-a-lifetime event -- a time for family and long-time friends to reconnect -- and no one should be made to feel shabby by being told that only black tie is acceptable.

Let the wedding party go to the expense of special dresses and tuxedos. Welcome the guests warmly, dressed as they are in the nicest clothes they own. "Proper" is a matter of attitude and of the heart, not just the apparel, as the gift they bring and the distance they have traveled indicate.

GENTLE READER: You are not the only gentleman Miss Manners has encountered who is under the mistaken impression that the opposite of "formal" is "good-hearted."

It isn't. The opposite of "formal" is "informal."

Both are among the styles currently in use; neither is a masquerade costume nor a gimmick. Asking guests to wear formal dress on a formal occasion is no more unmannerly than telling them to wear jeans on an informal one.

Having snapped at you, Miss Manners will now reassemble her own warm-heartedness to make the case that clothes do not reveal the heart. Snobbery thrives among those fiercely devoted to informality -- examine your attitude toward those who hold traditional weddings -- as much as among those who actually own evening dress.

She very much doubts that your hosts will greet you less warmly if you do not respect their wishes. Weddings do not generally feature bouncers who refuse to admit those whose outfits they feel will not add to the occasion.

DEAR MISS MANNERS: We were mourning the death of our dad. A neighbor brought over a dozen large homemade muffins.

The muffins were instantly devoured, and our brother took back the muffin pan. The neighbor asked if she could do anything else. Our brother said, "You could make more muffins!"

And she did -- bringing them within an hour. We thanked her profusely when she delivered them, and she was also thanked with a note. We gently scolded our brother, and he said, "But she asked."

Was this proper? The rest of us felt greedy (as we gobbled the new muffins).

GENTLE READER: Miss Manners is delighted that you appreciated the muffins, and assures you that the neighbor appreciated knowing this and feeling that she could be of use to you.

It is true that you cannot allow your brother to think that every polite offer may be taken literally. You don't want him asking a clerk who says "May I help you?" to explain his homework to him. But there are enough special circumstances here to excuse all of you.

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