DEAR MISS MANNERS: After attending the first of many weddings we were invited to, we have been made aware of a new trend Or, maybe it is an old trend that we were just unaware of.

It seems that wedding "invitations" aren't necessarily an invitation to the actual event, but could be just an "announcement" of the event with the expectation that you won't actually attend but will send a gift.

It now seems (after the fact) that our first invite was exactly that. I took the invitation at face value -- as an invitation to attend -- and did so at great expense because we had to travel quite a distance.

After we arrived in town, I was informed by a third party of a trend of sending "Courtesy Invitations" to people you don't expect to attend, and therefore, no RSVP card is included. (RSVP cards are not always a practice, depending on the type of wedding, so I wasn't concerned that one wasn't included.) Needless to say, I was mortified, embarrassed, hurt and offended that such a practice would even be considered. I have already purchased the airplane tickets to attend the next wedding, 2,000 miles away, and now I am wondering if we are "really" invited.

If one is "announcing" the wedding, why not send announcement cards instead of actual invitations? The postage is the same, and the consequences are much less offensive.

In this day and age, a lot of brides are printing their own invitations on their home computers. It is a simple act to change a line or two from "Request the Honour of your Presence" to "would like to announce" and remove all confusion.

GENTLE READER: It's been a while -- oh, maybe a week -- since Miss Manners heard of a new atrocity against etiquette invented by those who are planning weddings. But the idea of sending noninvitations ("Here's what we sent to people we want to attend, but you're not one of them") qualifies.

She is hoping against hope, or rather against experience, that this is the work of a lone crazy -- the person who told you this -- or at most, of a pair of them. Every time she thinks that, it is only to be deluged with reports that such a practice has spread like the flu.

But surely your supposed hosts know you are coming because you replied to their (apparent) invitations. Please don't tell Miss Manners that you bought into the absurd notion that a host who doesn't supply guests with the materials needed to reply doesn't care to get replies.

DEAR MISS MANNERS: My friend invited me for her birthday dinner at her house, which, of course I attended, and naturally I had a gift for her.

A few days after the event, she came back to me asking me for payment for dinner, and apologizing that she did not mention this detail before hand.

I feel that this was in principle inappropriate, and I feel slighted. What do you think? How should I have reacted?

GENTLE READER: By apologizing that you did not realize it was a benefit, and commiserating with her plight. Should your friend deny being desperate, Miss Manners would forgive you for getting out your wallet and saying quietly, "Then how much do you charge for celebrating your birthday?"

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DEAR MISS MANNERS: My girlfriend and I live 1,000 miles apart and have been friends for 37 years. When the two of us are on the phone, is it OK to say I am going to the restroom and then proceed to go to the restroom? Again, Miss Manners, please take into consideration the longevity and closeness of the relationship.

GENTLE READER: The lady didn't care for it, did she? That is why you are appealing to Miss Manners. (If the lady had been the one who did it and with you objecting, you would not have bolstered the case by citing the length of the relationship.)

That objection should be sufficient reason for using the very simple alternative: "Sorry, but could I call you back in a few minutes?" This is the telephone equivalent of saying "Excuse me" without an explanation when you are with someone. Nobody doubts where you are going, so further explanation is unnecessary and unwelcome.

DEAR MISS MANNERS: A few months ago, my former college roommate and good friend committed suicide at the age of 25 after suffering from bipolar disorder for several years. I had stayed at her family's house on school breaks a few times and became somewhat friendly with her parents, but I don't know them intimately. They live in another state, and I haven't had any contact with them since their daughter's memorial service.

When her birthday comes around, I would like to send them something, maybe just a postcard, because I know it will be a difficult day for them. I wouldn't make any direct reference to either her birthday or her death, but I'd like them to know that I'm thinking of them.

Do you think this is a good idea, or would it just be one more painful reminder? And if this is acceptable, do you have any suggestions on how I should approach it?

GENTLE READER: The fear of "reminding" the bereaved of a loss, which many cite as a reason for their silence, is a bogus one. Life itself supplies constant reminders, as you acknowledge by understanding that your friend's birthday will be an especially difficult day.

But there is one pain you can help relieve: that of thinking that their daughter has been forgotten by everyone except themselves. Miss Manners urges you to follow your kind urge to write them -- a letter, not a post card -- and assures you that you need not avoid referring to the birthday when you say that you miss your friend and are thinking of them.

DEAR MISS MANNERS: When my 26-year-old daughter visits, she and her boyfriend take their bath or shower together. She knows I do not approve but insists on doing it regardless. I guess she thinks I am a prude. Could you please tell me how to handle this situation?

GENTLE READER: And what, pray, is wrong with being thought a prude? Miss Manners herself has found such a reputation extremely useful in discouraging people from boring her with tales of their unappetizing thoughts and adventures.

It is especially useful for a parent in providing a standard with which the child may not agree but must respect. The properly prudish thing to say to your daughter is, "I can't control what you do elsewhere, but I won't have you doing that in my house."

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DEAR MISS MANNERS: When I met my lovely wife over six years ago, she had an extremely ill-tempered cat. (It bit me on our first date.) My wife had recently adopted the cat from a shelter just as it was about to be put to sleep, and she was very protective of it.

Now, six years later, this cat absolutely LOVES my wife, but no one else in the world.

After six years of feeding her and trying to befriend her, she still hisses and growls at me daily. She will hide on top of furniture at eye level and then attempt to claw me in the eyes when I unsuspectingly walk past. She growls and tries to bite every houseguest we have over.

The worst part of it is that she completely refuses to use a litter box. She does her "business" all over the house (only in carpeted areas), and no amount of coddling or planting of litter-boxes will sway her.

She purposely lies in "choke points" in the house, where the only way to get past her is to step over her. If one is so bold as to attempt this risky maneuver, one risks a pawful of claws in the leg. She has ruined every piece of nice furniture that we have with her constant spraying and clawing.

The upshot of it is that I'm embarrassed to have anyone over because our house reeks of cat urine and shredded furniture. The other day, the cat scratched a child in the eye that had gotten too close to it when no one was looking.

Despite all of this, my wife will absolutely not give the cat away, even though it's making me miserable. She says that she made a promise to be responsible for the cat when she adopted it, and it's a promise that she will not break.

I'm at my wits end. I love her enough that I can't in good conscience tell her that it's me or the cat, and frankly, I would be saddened to have to witness her heartbreak over losing the animal that she loves so much. But we've tried nail caps, behavior modification, drugs (Prozac, believe it or not), even a "pet therapist" whose final diagnosis was, "There's nothing I can do. Either live with things the way they are or get rid of the cat.

Her parents have talked about it with her, her friends have talked to her, nothing makes a difference. She is utterly devoted to "honoring" her promise. Please help me. I can't stand another day in this house with things as they are.

GENTLE READER: Furthermore, you have pronoun trouble.

Miss Manners was quite alarmed at the thought of your wife hiding on top of the furniture and biting the houseguests until she guessed that your "her" might not refer to the last noun mentioned, but to the cat.

So things could be worse. Not much worse, but worse.

The strange thing is that you imagine that the application of etiquette might succeed where drugs and husbandly desperation failed. Etiquette's power, in addition to whatever moral support it can inspire, is that people are willing to try to get along with one another for the sake of a pleasant living environment. The inhabitants of your house do not appear to be among them.

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