Yes, children, we did used to have blogs. We called them diaries, and they got us into almost as much trouble as yours will get you.

The impulse to record one's every thought, feeling, opinion and experience long pre-dates the home computer. It does not, Miss Manners hastens to add, pre-date the notions that one has a uniquely sensitive nature to which the world does not show proper attention and appreciation, and that one day it will be realized what a blunder that was on the part of the world.

Friends are not the ideal receptacles for daily confidences that keep making these points, as it does not take long to discover. Their minds wander, making them misunderstand or forget what they were told. They are especially prone to forgetting that they had been told not to tell others. Their emotions don't always come out the way they were supposed to, and they make irritating remarks, such as "You're not being fair," or "I don't see what you're so upset about." Their loyalties shift, leaving them with choice material to use against the very person who had supplied it.

Hence, the diary. It had an insatiable appetite for grudges, gossip, love affairs, cultural pronouncements, social criticism and whatever else one chose to put into it. It was the ideal companion, an eager and sympathetic listener who would never betray you in the present but hinted at helping you to fame in the future.

Blogs have a similar lure for those who keep them, with what seem like additional advantages. It is not only technologically that they work faster. They are supposed to supply fame and hordes of eager and sympathetic listeners in the present.

With a diary, the danger was that someone might sneak a peek at it or even steal it and expose one's secrets. With a blog, the fear is that nobody might do so.

Miss Manners realizes that the society's ideas about privacy have changed, if, indeed, anyone is still familiar with the concept. Ingeniously, people have found an easier way to cope with what was always considered shameful behavior than attempting to hide it -- or even stopping doing it.

The solution has been to publicize it, and blogs have served as an outlet for those unable to book their confessions on television. Whatever this does for the general tone of society, etiquette has no rule against people spreading unflattering gossip about themselves. Miss Manners would only caution those who do so that both social standards and personal circumstances often change, and they may not always be pleased to have this material floating around.

What is of concern to etiquette is the way bloggers write about other people. Miss Manners has a perhaps more realistic approach to gossip than those who condemn it absolutely, and then go on to more interesting subjects, such as who is doing what to whom. People will always talk about people.

The polite person at least gossips discreetly and without malice. Blogs do not qualify as being discreet. For those who must write down their critical observations about people they know, Miss Manners recommends a small blank book that comes with a lock and key and can successfully be hidden in the sock drawer.

DEAR MISS MANNERS: Every year at the same time, I have a fish fry/picnic and invite family members. I provide everything from food to eating utensils. We eat outside and use paper plates, but I do have flatware rather than plastic forks.

My sister-in-law always brings her own plate and flatware for herself. I am offended by this. I just wanted to know if this falls in the "bad manners" category.

GENTLE READER: It depends on how old your sister-in-law is. Up until the 17th century, it was considered polite, indeed necessary, for guests to bring their own cutlery. Now it is the reverse, so perhaps it is time for you to tell her that as her hostess, you are happy to provide the eating utensils. As for the plates, Miss Manners will conceal her sympathy with your sister and agree that she should accept what is offered.

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DEAR MISS MANNERS: Until a few days ago I was having a romance with a celebrity. We kept quiet about it to avoid the tabloids.

A couple of months ago, a slight acquaintance who I have never liked overheard him say to me, "I'll see you tomorrow." She demanded that I take her along on our meeting, and begged me to make similar outings with her.

I refused, politely but persistently. When pressed for a reason, I said, "We're 'friends,'" putting as much emphasis on the word "friends" as possible. A toadstool would have realized that I wanted to be alone with this man for personal reasons, but she did not. She kept badgering me to include her in my dates with the celebrity.

A few days ago, she frankly asked him for a date, right in front of me. To my chagrin, he accepted. Later, in private, he and I had a fight about the incident -- end of romance.

Obviously, if he was so quick to make a date with another woman he was ready to break up with me anyway. Still, I think the little groupie should face some consequences for taking my man before I was done with him. I intend to give her the snubbing of her life. How can I make her shrivel with guilt and regret, while being utterly charming?

GENTLE READER: Oddly -- and irritatingly -- enough, this is done by not snubbing her. Doing so would only convince her that she succeeded in snatching a prize away from you.

But, as you realize, she did you a favor. The way to engender her regret is to thank her for getting you out of a difficult and tedious situation.

DEAR MISS MANNERS: I recently received an anonymous letter in my mailbox saying that we are disturbing the peace of the neighborhood.

We just moved here, and were surprised to find that we could hear all of our neighbors so clearly. This is due to the fact that everyone lives with their windows open in the heat. I can literally hear my neighbor sneeze when I lay in my bed at night. We were even thinking of moving because of the noise level.

So I was shocked when I received the note, but I admit that my 2-year-old is having a hard time dealing with his new baby brother and has been crying a lot lately. Otherwise, I really feel that we are on par with the rest of our neighbors. The note sounded rather angry, and said that they can hear our conversations and that our children keep them from sleeping in on the weekends.

I feel bad that I am annoying someone, but am disturbed and paranoid because I don't know who wrote the note. I would like to apologize to them and make sure that they understand that we aren't trashy or rude people. Do I write an apology to all of our neighbors (especially since I can't keep my kids quiet all of the time), or just let it go?

GENTLE READER: Just let it go until an already enraged neighbor is driven over the brink? Miss Manners would not advise this.

Although anonymous letters are rude and scary, she recommends treating this one as an opening for discussing the problem that everyone in the neighborhood shares, with a view to cooperating to make life more pleasant for all.

Whether this can be accomplished through a policy of strategically closed windows Miss Manners cannot say. People do converse, and children do cry. But it will establish your goodwill, which tends to make others more tolerant.

Besides, if you refer uncritically to having received an anonymous letter, you may be sure that people who know everyone in the neighborhood will have a good idea who the writer is, and that it will not be attempted again.

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DEAR MISS MANNERS: In a machine embroidery class, the shop owner told us that the proper way to use fine linen napkins is to insert "a very lovely paper napkin" (a "very lovely" example of an oxymoron, I would think!) inside a fold and instruct your guests (if they are so gauche they don't already know this!) that the paper napkin is used for the mouth and fingers.

The purpose of the linen napkin is to cover the lap! (Could this possibly be a custom in another country?)

I have inherited some lovely, hand-monogrammed, damask dinner napkins from my mother-in-law and, although I cringe inwardly if someone uses one with gusto, I cannot begin to imagine offering a paper napkin along with it. Her concern, of course, is that someone will stain something she has spent hours creating. Though I can understand her concern, I have found that pre-treating immediately and laundering soon after use handles any problem nicely. I would find it offensive if someone told me how to use my napkin!

GENTLE READER: Oh, no! Not another linen fetish! Don't people get enough spiritual satisfaction from worshipping guest towels without having to place napkins out of our reach as well?

Miss Manners hardly knows which is worse -- issuing instructions to guests or issuing them napkins that they are made to understand they are unworthy to use. If the lady giving out this advice in violation of etiquette rules and principles wants her guests to admire the napkins she made without using them, she should hang them on her walls in frames.

DEAR MISS MANNERS: Recently, my sister gave me a lovely catered wedding shower. We were both appalled by the RSVP percentage. She ended up having to track people down via e-mail and then phone to see if they were coming to the party or not.

The part that really horrified me was that when my sister would finally contact one of the people who hadn't responded, they would act like it was somehow her bad manners to have asked them to respond in the first place. (I want to make clear that these reminders were upbeat and gentle.) The comments fell into several categories, but the most offensive was "I haven't decided yet, I might go to another party. You should relax." This was three days before the event.

Would it be too much to print the definition of RSVP and a brief explanation of how it is done, tongue-in-cheek style, on the back of the actual RSVP card for my wedding invitation? I can't afford to have the 40 percent no-response rate the shower had.

GENTLE READER: Every possible trick to get rude people to answer invitations has been tried without success. Threats, warnings and ready-made answers that only have to be checked off and mailed all have a dismal return.

As your sister discovered, shameless people cannot be shamed into behaving. Miss Manners strongly recommends that you cut your guest list to omit those who have already admitted to being so little interested in you as to fail to show you the most basic consideration.

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