DEAR MISS MANNERS: Many of my friends keep blogs -- online diaries and discussion forums -- as a casual way to keep in touch with distant friends and as another forum for social chatter with friends who live nearby.

One friend recently commented in her blog that she hadn't enjoyed the novel she'd just read. To her surprise, the novel's author found the post after searching the Web for his own name and responded angrily to her "review."

Although we are all aware that blogs can be read by any friend or stranger who passes by, our own blogs are so mundane that they are usually only read by our own friends, and we like it that way. We tend to think of blogs as being akin to conversations with friends at a public cafe -- while they might be overheard by strangers, we don't really expect them to, or expect strangers to get involved.

Should we instead be thinking of blogs as something more like letters published in the newspaper? Or simply refrain from keeping blogs and put more effort into writing letters? Letters sound good in theory, but in practice I have trouble deriving the same sense of community from them.

From time to time, people post announcements or invitations to parties on their blogs. If I read such an invitation in the blog of one of my closest friends, I take it as a personal invitation and respond accordingly. If I read an invitation on the blog of a more distant friend, or a friend-of-a-friend, I am not sure whether I should consider myself invited (and send a reply as to whether or not I can attend) or whether I should assume it is intended for others and ignore it. What is the proper reaction?

GENTLE READER: You believed that Internet users turn discreetly away when they realize that something is not intended for them? And people accuse Miss Manners of not living in the real world!

You can hardly go more public than putting things online. We used to use the phrase "shouting it from the rooftops" to indicate going public, but you could shout yourself hoarse, put it in the newspapers, announce it on television, and still not reach a fraction of the potential audience of your blog.

Indeed, that is the attraction for most bloggers, Miss Manners is given to understand. Few diarists of old could hope to reach anyone beyond a suspicious parent or spouse.

True, this is only a potential audience. Not everyone wants to spend time following the lives and thoughts of strangers. But as you found out, you cannot control entry. Nor can you fault those who participate and who assume that publicly issued invitations included them.

There are more private means at your disposal. Isn't Miss Manners the one who is supposed to think first of letters, and everyone else to think of e-mail?

DEAR MISS MANNERS: My husband was asked to play the organ at a wedding next month. The groom said that would be the gift. However, we just received a wedding invitation with a card enclosed advising us where they are registered for gifts. Since my husband is the church organist and not charging for this as the "gift," are we required to purchase a second present? The couple aren't friends or relatives of ours, just members of the church.

GENTLE READER: Your husband has already been cheated out of the fee for his services. You owed no present for a wedding you would not have otherwise attended. And Miss Manners can assure you that you certainly do not owe two. The bridegroom is just trolling for freebies from others as he did from you.

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DEAR MISS MANNERS: I enjoy collecting and using for entertaining various pieces of antique and estate sterling that often have gorgeous, decorative monograms that are unfortunately not consistent with my name's initials.

My usual response to the inquiry "Whose initials are these?" is "They are mine, now that I have purchased them." Should I not utilize this "pre-owned" silver among polite company or should I devise a more polite response?

GENTLE READER: Why should this little remark offend anyone? The Messrs. Gilbert and Sullivan did quite well with it in "Pirates of Penzance."

If you are not getting the laughs you must expect, Miss Manners begs you not to take it out on your honestly acquired silverware. What needs work, in that case, would be either your delivery or your guest list.

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DEAR MISS MANNERS: Our wonderful little church schedules a time during the Sunday service when worshipers may request that the congregation pray for a joy or concern they have.

This is written on a note card that is handed to the minister who then reads it to the congregation. Alternatively, the person may choose to talk about the joy or concern and, in that case, is recognized by being passed a hand-held microphone so everyone may hear the prayer request.

The microphone seems to be attracting quite a few people who use this opportunity for what they consider an amusing comment before they share the "joy" of a new car purchase, or "concern" for their alma mater's football team's losing streak.

I know there are others as uncomfortable as I am listening to some of these requests, especially when another member of the congregation may have just asked for prayers for a friend battling an addiction, or a colleague who has lost a spouse, or the safe return of a son serving in Iraq.

I'm a member of the church's lay governing body. How can I help encourage sharing and discourage the "performers" who seem to be attracted by a microphone and a captive audience?

GENTLE READER: First, stop handing out that microphone to known jokers and people whose written requests are frivolous. This is called removing temptation.

But before someone begins arguing for openness and spontaneity of expression, Miss Manners urges you to put some deeper questions before the governing body and, especially, your minister. She can only tell you that it is indeed rude to mix the silly with the serious, even socially. If you heard someone mention fear about a relative in danger, would you follow it up with, "Too bad, but you'll be happy to hear that I just bought a car"?

Your minister will have to decide what subjects he thinks fit for the congregation's prayers. If he finds some of the requests unsuitable, he could put them aside for a moment of fellowship where people could share their news. He might also consider a sermon about what is important in life. If he wants to use all requests, he can at least group them to avoid the jarring juxtaposition of those who fear losing games and those who fear losing lives.

DEAR MISS MANNERS: What do I do with this harpoon? I went to a fancy restaurant and they gave me a glass of water and said, "Do you want lemon with that?" and I said "Yes," and they carried out a lemon wedge on a plate. The wedge was impaled on a little yellow harpoon, a sort of long plastic toothpick with an arrow at the end.

Do I drop it in the water with the lemon? Balance it across my glass so the lemon is held a little out of the water? Yell "Thar she blows!" and hurl it at my neighbor?

GENTLE READER: What? No lemon forks? And not even any of those little silver clamps?

Not that this would make the procedure any different, Miss Manners is afraid; just prettier. You hold the lemon over the glass with whatever tool is supplied, and press the juice into the glass. You may take home the harpoon (but not the silver) and use it to pin a note saying, "We do not throw harpoons at the neighbors."

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