UPDATE: This post will float at the top for the rest of this week. New content is below.

ANOTHER UPDATE: No politics, like I said. I let the Sotomayor slide but that's it.

Hey everyone!

It's time for the Second Annual Clerihew Contest! Last year's was just so much fun I decided to make it an annual event. This year's winner will receive a signed copy of Miss Conduct's Mind over Manners.

July 10 is Clerihew Day, celebrating the poetic invention of Edmund Clerihew Bentley. These are the rules for a Clerihew poem:

1. They are about a person, and the first line is (usually) the name of that person.
2. There are four lines.
3. The rhyme scheme is AABB; the first two lines and the second two lines rhyme.
4. There is no meter; that is, the lines can be as long or short as you want.

Here is the winning entry from last year:

Tim Berners-Lee
Invented HTTP
Thus the World Wide Web was born
For Nigerian Diplomats and porn.

And the four runners-up:

Bill Gates
Has left the giant software company everyone hates.
"Hey, Mistah?
Are *you* gonna use Vista?"

William S. Burroughs
Had a brow filled with wrinkles and furrows
(Which were probably exacerbated, of course,
By his addiction to horse).

Thomas Edison
Invented a type of electricity that we have mostly had to jettison.
The clear advantages of direct over alternating current
Weren't.

Edmund C. Bentley
Wrote intently,
But would now be anonymous
Were it not for the verse form for which his middle name is eponymous.

Get the idea?

The rules of the Second Annual Miss Conduct Clerihew contest:

1. Leave your clerihews in comments (on this blog or the other one, it doesn't matter).
2. Follow the proper clerihew form.
3. No clerihews about me, Mr. Improbable, or Milo (if you want to post or e-mail me some, we'd be delighted, but clerihews about the judge, her spouse, or beloved dog can't be considered for the contest for reasons of objectivity).
4. Clerihews containing sexual or political material will be disallowed.
5. You can enter as many clerihews as you like.
6. Clerihews will be judged on wit, accuracy, psychological perspecuity, and linguistic ingenuity.

Entries will be accepted until midnight on Sunday. On Monday, July 6, I will post the top 5 clerihews on the Robin Abrahams blog (I'll announce it here). Then you can vote on the winners. Voting will be open until noon on Friday, July 10--CLERIHEW DAY!--at which point the winner will be posted, and may begin a wild weekend of celebration.

More on last Thursday's question ...

I'd posted that question when I did because I felt it was such a great example of the distinction between rude and hurtful that I made here. I hope you'll read the whole post, but here's the major distinction I'm drawing in it:

Obviously, there is a correlation between hurtful and rude; the rules of polite behavior represent an attempt to cut out that which would be hurtful to most people most of the time. But everyone has their own idiosyncratic vulnerabilities and can be hurt by behaviors entirely within the bounds of etiquette. And everyone, too, has particular areas of great tolerance for particular sorts of rude behaviors ... We all have a different set of buttons, and some of them are on a hair trigger and some are missing entirely.

This distinction is something, I realize, that I've struggled to articulate in my columns. I sometimes get letters from people who are hurt by behaviors that are not rude. Often, the LWs (letter-writers) want me to condemn the people who are behaving in a hurtful way. But I can't do that, because those people are not actually doing something wrong. I can acknowledge the hurt, that's for sure. Even when I think someone is really off base, they still have a right to their feelings. And if the relationship is a close one, I can suggest ways of talking about the bothersome behavior. We have the right to expect our friends and family to honor our quirks, within reason. But we'll have a better chance of getting them to do so if we realize that this is what we are asking–their indulgence for our quirks. We aren't scolding them for not adhering to the rules of etiquette if they, in fact, are.

...

And it's absolutely vital to sanity to realize that when you step out of your circle of loved ones, you no longer have the right to that kind of customized treatment. People will say things that are hurtful to you, and if those things are within the common bounds of civility we've defined as a society, you cowboy up and answer them politely.

I made it sound, in that post, as though there were a clear line between the hurtful and the rude, but there is, naturally, a huge grey area, and I think last Thursday's question probes at it. Personally, I find the comments that the LW has a hard time with to be in the hurtful-but-not-rude category. The weekend comment, as I noted earlier, is wholly innocuous--and, at any rate, unavoidable. Working mothers are about the most time- and solitude-starved lot there are, and if you have every other weekend to yourself, they will envy you loudly for it.

The "response/complaint they make about their own lives when, for instance, their husband is traveling and they are left to fend for themselves"--that, I think, depends. Is it a spontaneous complaint--"Oy, my husband is gone for a week and it's driving me crazy!"? Remarking on our own problems, even to a friend who has larger ones, is usually okay unless you are being really egregious. (Don't complain about your shoes to someone who has no feet.) The laid-off don't want to hear prolonged tales of office politics, and the infertile don't want to hear you go on endlessly about the trials of the terrible twos, obviously. But within reason, we can all make the offhand whinge without stopping every time to calculate the precise misery index of those around us. An actual attempt at comparison between a friend's serious pain and your own more minor problem is, on the other hand, pretty horrible. "Oh, I know what it's like for you having your wife stationed in Iraq, mine's started working Saturdays and we hardly ever see each other." Not so much, really. I'd put that one into the straight-up "rude" category without too much agonizing.

What we consider rude—i.e., the things about which decide, "No, this is an out of bounds comment/question for civilized people to make"—versus hurtful—i.e., the things about which we say, "It is unfortunate that so-and-so was hurt; perhaps his friends will learn to avoid talking to him about X"—is a highly politicized topic. We all know, for example, that "I'm sorry you were offended" translates to "What I said may have been hurtful, but it wasn't rude. Therefore you got hurt because of your sensitivities, not my insensitivities." Many progressives and liberals, for example, are attempting to define as rude—universally unacceptable—the kinds of language conservatives would prefer to define as merely hurtful. You can check out these discussions of the word retarded and the appropriateness of giving unsolicited advice to sick people to get a sense of the issues. Ta-Nehisi Coates explicitly links courtesy to politics here.

Finally, I just have to lift up this one final comment:

Something happened one day that put everything in perspective. After a horrible morning meeting my ex at the soccer field and having him create a scene, and having both kids running to me in tears, telling me they didn't want to go with him for that weekend, I had to leave the field and couldn't watch their game. I went over to a friend's house, crying and shaking. Her neighbor was there having coffee. I sat down at the table with mascara streaks running down my cheeks and ranting like a maniac, when the friend (who I hardly knew) looked at me and said...you're so lucky!!!! I had to turn around to see who she was talking to, but it was me. She went on to say that even though it was tough now, I was lucky to have had the strength to leave him. She was stuck in a horrible marriage and didn't have the money, guts or wherewithall to leave. She was JEALOUS OF ME!!!! So, the point I'm trying to make is while we ALL have our troubles, nobody can know what it feels like until we go through it, and even then, it's different for us all. Keep a positive attitude, this too shall pass.

Amazing.

Jezebel is running a feature on their favorite advice columnists--go tell them Miss Conduct is the bomb!

Your responses to last Thursday's question, from a divorced single mother hurt by the apparently innocuous comments of friends, were fantastic! It was a short thread, but a terrific one. Thanks for lots of food for thought!

First off, I agree with everyone who posted that the LW sounded as though she were beyond the bounds of normal unhappiness, and ought to make some changes in her life. Also, that having every other weekend alone thing--that is fairly congratulation-worthy, even if the circumstances that brought it about are less than ideal. If a working mother can't appreciate having every other weekend free of child care responsibilities--well, then she is beyond the bounds of normal unhappiness, and ought to make some changes in her life.

I'm not the only one who noticed the apparent contradiction in the LW's statement that she is " not looking for sympathy, but often find my friends completely oblivious to struggles (i.e., profound loneliness and feelings of being overwhelmed) of a divorced person." Is she sharing her problems with her friends, or expecting them to know without being told? JoGeek expressed it well:

Second, the letter seems to imply, somewhat, that the friends should somehow automatically know when the writer is struggling. Friends are not, and should not be expected to be either psychic or professional counselors. If you need help, you need to ask for help. If you need emotional support, you need to ask for that too. Just keep in mind that you may have to specify what you need, when you need it, and even though they're your friends they may not be able to provide it. Not if what you really need is a professional counselor.

I often get letters from people going through some kind of hard time or other, who aren't happy with the way their friends and family express support. Sometimes the support is expressed pretty badly indeed; sometimes it's simply not to the particular need of the letter-writer. There's nothing wrong, in such a situation, with telling your friends what you need to hear from them. People want to help so instead of making them take blind whacks as though your psychic pain were a piñata, tell them what would be helpful. "Just let me vent and say horrible things and then erase your memory." "Tell me something nice about myself." "Have you ever gone through anything like this? Tell me how it was and remind me I can get through it." "Tell me something silly. Or explain derivatives to me. I need to be distracted."

The ConductMom is a pro at this, and it's a good trait in a friend or mom, because I know I'm doing the right thing. Sometimes it can be a little disconcerting when she calls me out of the blue and says, "Tell me something funny!", but it did help me hone the improv skills that serve me so well today.

Keep in mind, too, that we can't always expect our friends to get us in all the phases of our lives, good or bad. We go into countries they can't. Accept these limitations, and seek your own kind when you need to. As commenter k put it,

When you have a personal problem of any kind that none of your friends can relate to, even if they truly care, it can bring on immense loneliness. They will never get it until they are in your shoes, so it would truly be better to widen your circle of friends and advisors to incorporate some people who can commiserate/advise/distract you.

More to come on this question, and the issues it raises about the distinction between rude and hurtful.

Join me for a chat at noon on Wednesday!

What a huge amount of comments we got on the question of whether or not it is appropriate for a clerk/server/etc. to address a customer as "sweetie" or "hon"!

Bill Kelly started off the discussion with an awesome "First!" comment:

Welcome to Quincy, Massachusetts!

Indeed. A fair number of folks weighed in on the "they're just being nice," "don't get your panties in a wad",* "pick your battles" side. Fine, that's a reasonable point of view. But while we don't sweat the small stuff in ConductLand, we do dissect it for every nuance of insight or wit it might provide us! So while the "whatever" crowd may have a reasonable point, we're not going to play with them anymore.

Meg C summarized the "anti" view well:

Unless you know them well, I think using the term sweetie or hon is inappropriate. It's unprofessional and infantilizes both women and the elderly. A gentleman of the same age would more likely be called "Sir" in the same circumstances.

We don't know the gender of the LW, but according to Reverie, Meg's prediction is correct:

I work in a male-dominated area, and frequently people who don't expect to hear a woman's voice will call and say "sir". The minute I respond and they hear my obviously female voice they switch to "honey" or "sweetie" or "dear." If you would call a man "sir" then the appropriate thing to call me is ma'am, not sweetie. Sweetie is fine in the grocery store. It's not fine when I'm in a position of authority and deserve the same respect as the male coworker sitting alongside me.

(Although, Grayguy says it's no bed of roses for older men, either: "You know what's worse? 'May i help you young man.' I'm pushing seventy. The phrase shouldn't be used on anyone over eleven." Agreed!)

Jlen defended, and correctly in my view, the anti-hons while acknowledging the difficult situation servers etc. are put in:

I'm disturbed a bit by the posters who say variations of "you're an elitist jerk if you don't like being called hon," or "this is so trivial, get a life." People are allowed to have preferences for how they are referred to, and there is nothing wrong, elitist, or trivial about it. We all have preferred modes of address.

The problem is that we can't expect strangers to know those preferred modes of address; some are offended at "ma'am," some at "hon," some at the use of first names. That puts servers and retail help in a difficult position, as they have to refer to us customers somehow. So I assume that servers and retail help simply use the mode of address that they find most natural for themselves. I usually do not correct anyone who calls me "sweetie" (though I'd rather not be called sweetie by men who are not my husband). But if in a particular circumstance or context it bothers me enough, I simply ask, politely, that they use my name (and I would of course remind them what my name is).

Be prepared to remind them frequently. A fair amount of "honning" has to be the result of that awkward feeling that I know I should know your name by now, but I still don't. (If you are a highly observant person, you can train yourself to recognize that microsecond of panic that crosses a person's face when they recognize you and then realize they don't know your name. If you are a highly controlled person, you can stop that expression before it flits across your own face. I'm only up to stage 1 myself.) As Verena points out:

Even if you show your face somewhere regularly, sometimes public employees can't learn everyone's names, and then there has to be the awkward "I'm sorry, I know your face {sweetie} but I forgot your name for the seventeenth time."

I work with a lot of people whose names I will never learn, especially kids, and if I need to get their attention I'll call them "Mr. Pink Shirt" or "Miss Stripey Shorts". I would think it hilarious if the checkout clerk at the supermarket had the eye and sense of humor to call me Miss Green Tank Top or Miss Cowboy Hat, both of which I wear regularly to the grocery store.

That's actually not a bad solution, but for the love of all that's holy if you are going to address someone by their physical appearance, stick to their clothes.

MelissaJane brought up a particularly icky version:

I experience a variation of this which I don't much like, but understand: everyone in my pediatrician's office - and other places which cater to my kids - calls me Mom. I get that the nurses, PAs, secretaries, etc. can't learn everyone's names, and that even looking down at the chart and noticing that my kids' last name is Smith doesn't help them know whether or not my name is Mrs. Smith, or Ms. Smith-Jones, or whatever. But it still kind of weirds me out to have all these random people say "OK Mom, we're ready for you now," "Mom, take his diaper off and put him on the scale," "Ellen, please write Mom a prescription for amoxycillin."

If pediatricians had done that to the ConductMom I think I would have been raised Christian Scientist! She hates being called "Mom" by anyone but me and once threw an encyclopedia salesmen out of our house for doing just that. Good for her.

Of course, no discussion on proper forms of address would be complete without a skirmish of the ma'am wars. I'm going to let MelissaJane have the final word on this one, too, because she is right:

See, I just don't have any sympathy for the people who say that being called ma'am makes them feel old. The fact that you are insecure about the aging process, and dislike having attention called to the fact that you are no longer 18, does not make calling you ma'am rude. What IS the polite form of address you'd prefer, for heaven's sake? Madam? Madame? Your Youthful Hipness? Pity the poor servers and clerks, for they can do no right here.

And I'm giving the final commenter word overall to DMajor:

When waitresses and salesladies call me "hon" I just pretend they are calling me "Hun" -- as in "Attila the ~". This makes me feel fierce and legendarily powerful. I nod in a thoughtful manner, wish them a good day, and spare them my awesome and terrible wrath, which I'm sure they appreciate.

My own bottom line? The whole issue is completely skunked by race, gender, geography, and class. There isn't anything that customers can be called that won't offend some of them, that's clear. I'm a strong proponent of "sir" and "ma'am" myself, but I can't pretend people who hate those terms don't exist, and if I were a clerk, I'd have to find something to call them. So give people in public-facing jobs the benefit of your patience and doubt, as always. And those with public-facing jobs should do their best to treat customers as people. If there's genuine acknowledgment and respect both ways, whatever terms of address are used will seem perfectly natural.

First off, you backed up my own impression, which is that it is not common practice to exclude kids when figuring out a restaurant bill. All of my friends include their children, but I thought maybe it was just them. It isn't.

Separate checks were a popular solution, and what I would have recommended, too. (I wasn't implying there was anything wrong with separate checks, just that I was curious if there were any other solutions people could think of.)

Having "the talk" prior to the next dining experience was also advised. Kei summarized this approach:

I'd just take the simple approach and ask very nicely and politely when you call to make plans to go out somehting like this: "and how do you think we should handle the bill for the kids?"

Using "we" means "all us adults", and keeps the conversation light and friendly.

That makes her responsible for giving you an answer; hopefully she'll take the high road and will say that she'll pay for her kids.

If she doesn't, you have the opening you need away from the immediacy of the restaurant to say something like "well, the kids getting so big now that I'd like to work out with you who pays for the children."

If she makes a case that you should pay I'd say something like "I suppose there are some special occassiosn where we'd like to treat them , but for our usual dinners out ir seems to me that parents should pay for their kids."

Then listen to the cajolery, the case-making and all, and repeat: "for our usual dinners out it seems to me that parents should pay for their kids."

The trick here is to be calm and polite and always come back to your main point until the other party agrees. If you get a lot of grief from this person about this topic you may have to reasses their character and value as a friend . . . but do NOT let yourself get bamboozled into justifying your position, arguing about WHY your position is better: " it seems to me that parents should pay for their kids."

Noel made a good point:

all these years you've been tucking away your resentment at having to split the bill while your sister has no idea you are upset. Now your resentment silo is full and about to burst. She has no idea you even have one. If you let it burst, she will be overwhelmed, lost in the flood of a long-harbored grudge about something she didn't think you cared about.

That's a good thing to keep in mind in many situations where you're feeling put upon. (I've referred in the past to rage-toads: "... sometimes when we swallow our anger at friends, it grows into warty little rage-toads in our bellies instead, and one day we open our mouths with the most innocent of intentions and the toads pop out.")

I think MelissaJane, however, has got this one:

All of you advocating the separate checks as the obvious, the-rest-of-you-are-such-clueless-dopes solution - do you actually go to restaurants frequently and try this? Because it is not always so easy, or even permitted. And understandably. It's a pain in the butt for a waiter/ess to remember that the guy in the red shirt and the woman two seats away and the kid in the high chair go on one check but everyone else is on another one. Many restaurants simply won’t split checks like this.

All of this "sit your sister down and tell her the freeloading must stop” talk also strikes me as...not the best real-world thinking. Do you really want to have a come-to-Jesus talk about check splitting, LW? No, of course you don't, that's why you wrote to Miss Conduct in the first place. You didn't need tips on staging a Dinner Check Intervention, you wanted a way to handle this that had at least a 50% chance of keeping your fraternal relationship intact.

So it seems like the best solution, after check-splitting where possible, is simply to toss in the amount of money you actually owe. Ask for the check, add up your share, and let her explain why you need to kick in more–and if she does, that's a great time to pull out the "I really can only afford to pay for my own meal" line.

... with an honorable mention to Hope, for being a good person to have in your corner:

I *do* always speak up on behalf of other folks who might be caught up unfairly if we split the bill evenly (people who ordered something cheaper, the one person who didn't share the wine, etc). It's so much easier to speak up when you're not the person saying, "I only had a salad and you all had steak, can we not split this evenly?" I consider it a kindness.

Today's quote comes from a divorced mom:

I am a divorced working mother of two who for all outward appearances seems to balance the demands of "going it alone" with relative ease. (I receive my child support on time but receive very little help w/the juggling of life.) I generally encounter two distinct comments from my friends, most of whom are married, that to this day still don't resonate well.

The first is "You are so lucky you have every other weekend alone." And the other is the response/complaint they make about their own lives when, for instance, their husband is traveling and they are left to fend for themselves. I am aware everyone's life is busy and am not looking for sympathy, but often find my friends completely oblivious to struggles (i.e., profound loneliness and feelings of being overwhelmed) of a divorced person. What would you advise I say beyond, "I understand" when they complain about their schedules or "It is nice to be able to recharge my batteries" when I recognize my free time?

This is exactly the kind of thing I was getting at about the distinction between rude and hurtful. I don't think there's much we can do about hurtful but not rude comments from strangers--but we ought to be able to talk to our friends. What do you think the LW should say?

Happy Wednesday! I thought I'd catch you all up on what's going on at robinabrahams.com. First, though, I had to share this--a comment that a friend of mine left when I posted Sunday's column on Facebook:

If you want to do things like have breakfast in your car while others are hoping to get into the parking space you occupy, why not sit in the passenger seat? That way it won't look as if your car is about to leave, since it has no driver.

Brilliant. Anyway, back at the ranch ...

A review of NBC's "Kings," and what works and doesn't.

Etiquette as a blunt instrument, or the difference between rude and hurtful (and what the Hadassah lady said to me).

A Yahoo news roundup that gently and absurdly bounced from pirates to parrots to pet tricks.

Chapters of my book put through Wordle: the introduction, food, religion, health & disability, and pets.

Can self-obsession be explained by humility as well as narcissism?

Last Monday's question from a soon-to-be married couple trying to diplomatically manage acrimoniously divorced parents brought some good and compassionate responses. The very first entry, from Liza (go read the whole thing) was roundly considered to have Won the Internets, and rightly so. Liza gave concrete suggestions, with the overall message that

The basic idea is to throw this back in their laps so that you are no longer responsible for their comfort -- they are responsible for yours and that of your other friends and relatives. But the caveat is to convey the message in a loving and kind way.

Here's the keys to the column, Liza. I'm going to go off to Burning Man for a while.

A few commenters shared their own stories. I bet this was a real horror show:

"A moronic DJ at a wedding (after explicity advised not to do this) decided to try to get the divorced parents of the wedding party to dance."

I hate to bash on an entire profession, but I do NOT trust wedding DJs. I have seen way too much of this kind of thing in my day. If you have Big Tony waiting outside the VFW Hall ready to break your DJ's knees if he disobeys your slightest wish, and the DJ knows this, then you can trust your DJ.

A big reason I wanted to put this question up was to challenge the way we talk about brides. We like to rip on brides and tell horror stories about "bridezillas." But for every over-the-top bridezilla who swallows whole the mythology of the wedding-industrial complex, there are scores of kind, loving bride-chillas who are doing all they can--and in this case, a lot more than they should have been asked to--to make their special day a happy one for everybody.

Your Monday question:

What is your input about employees who wait on customers in supermarkets and other public places who address them as "hon" and "dear" and "sweetie"?

I'm an active senior citizen who never noticed this mode of address in my younger years, but now notice, over the age of 65, some of these employees freely use these terms to address me. The twenty-year-old in the deli callsme "hon" on a regular basis, and the maybe forty-whatever at the cleaner repeatedly called me "sweetie". I'm happy to be addressed by my first name (which I admit these people probably do not know), but these terms of endearment for someone they do not know seem condescending and way off base.

No, what's your input, snookums? I have an opinion on this ... but I bet it will become more nuanced after I read what you think about it.

I wish my own father of blessed memory were here to help me write columns tonight. I can just imagine his responses to some of the ones I’m working on now:

“Son, everyone has to work with someone like that. I could tell you about this one guy in Chicago … but life’s too short. Do your job and ignore him.”

“That seems reasonable to me, but I’m not your wife. Take her out to her favorite restaurant and give her a nice bottle of perfume and ask her.”

“Oh, sure, you’re within your RIGHTS to do that. But no one will ever invite you back for a drink after the game, and if there’s ever a disputed call, they won’t resolve it in your favor.”

“Lady, he’s just a little kid. In six months he won’t even remember this.”

“This you consider a problem at work? This is no problem. This is just work.”

“If everyone knows perfectly well that you’re lying, it isn’t lying anymore. Then it’s just being polite.”

Today's column addresses the awkwardness of repeated hallway meetings in the workplace:

During my workday I make multiple trips between my office and other rooms in the building. I often pass the same people in the hallways several times. After the first direct greeting each day, I feel awkward if I do not say something to acknowledge them as we pass. I sometimes have something business-related to mention, occasionally something witty, but always a nod and smile. Is the last response acceptable, as multiple "hellos" each day seems weird?

I tweeted earlier today that this question is "very Simon/Sacha Baron Cohen." The Baron Cohen cousins are among the world's most renowned scholars and practitioners, respectively, of the awkward moment. Mr. Improbable explains it all for you.

That thing I said last week about how we'd have different features here on different days--I changed my mind on that. Blogs are a work in progress! (Some more than others.) I've decided to keep all content that isn't specifically related to the Miss Conduct column on my Robin Abrahams blog. What we'll do here is chat, and talk about specific questions, which I'll post on Monday and Thursday. I'll post my roundups of your advice on the following week.

And you know, about me throwing questions up there like that--I'm not just doing that for the page hits. Obviously, that's important. But I really do learn from your perspectives, and your stories. I try to pick good questions to put up here: either questions that leave me stumped, or where I don't have a lot of expertise, or versions of questions (like this Thursday's) that I get all the time, and that leave me wondering if there are angles I haven't looked at. So thank you for your insights!

(And if you're hankering for the old fashioned philosophizing and oddness that used to characterize this blog, you know where to find it!)

I'll be doing a benefit reading and signing of Miss Conduct's Mind over Manners for ReadBoston on Tuesday, June 30 at 7 p.m. at 1732 Centre Street, West Roxbury. Tickets for the "ChickLit" event, which includes dinner and wine, are $40 and benefit the literacy initiative. You can RSVP by calling 617-918-5289 or emailing ReadBoston@cityofboston.gov. Hope to see you there!

I so often get versions of "how do we split the bill" questions, where the letter-writer objects to down-the-middle bill-splitting that favors the folks who eat and drink more than others. (Am I getting more of these now than I was before the recession? Hard to say.) Adding kids to the mix is a twist I haven't seen before, but the basic situation is a common one. How have you handled freeloading friends? Is there a solution besides separate checks?

As young adults, prior to siblings and friends having children, whenever we would go out to eat we’d divide the bill by the # of people. We were always pretty good about keeping our orders of equal value to each other. And at times when I’ve felt like splurging I would be the first to grab the bill so that I could figure out how much more I owed.

Nowadays some people have children, I do not, and somehow the bill gets divided by the # of adults only. I’ve been annoyed by this for years and now it’s worse because those “children” are no longer ordering off the kiddie menu. When does it end? It’s not even that it’s a financial strain for me, it’s just that it bothers me that the parents don’t even attempt or offer to put in more to cover their family. One time in the past I grabbed the bill first, looked at my purchases and put the money in that I owed. Maybe I imagined it but I felt my sister was annoyed with that move. The next dinner out with them I let her divide up the bill and sure enough she equally divided the bill by adults only.

How do others in my place deal with this?

Technical difficulties kept today's chat from happening, but I did get a few questions in--so I'll answer them here:

Where is the proper place to place one's purse when at a restaurant?

Wherever it is most secure and least in people's way.

A friend of mine wrote a one-act play, and asked if I would give her feedback (you can probably tell where this is going already)--I agreed to it, of course, and the play in question turned out to be a VERY far out work--I do not understand anything about it. I love the occasional Erik Ehn-esque strangeness, but I'm not at all sure if there is even a point to her piece. I am at a loss for how to give her notes at all. "There are some moments that are so poetic, but I'm not entirely sure I've grasped the concept" is as best as I come up with. That seems incredibly inadequate feedback for someone's labor of love. Any advice?

Ask questions! "What are you going for in this scene? Who were your influences? What is Character X's motivation?" In general, though, prevention is the best solution--don't ever offer to give someone feedback, or agree to a request for same, unless you know they can take feedback.

This one is from my parents - One of the women in their social circle has recently taken to a more affectionate greeting for my father (hug and kiss). Of course, he didn't notice, but my mother has! Is this one of those situations where someone simply feels closer to another, and thus greets them more warmly? Or should everyone start kissing? Advice?

No one is obligated to get into a sort of affectionate arms race simply because Helen Handshake decided to come all over European. Keep on as you were. In the unlikely event that she is making some untoward gestures of affection toward your father, it will drive her crazy if no one notices.

My question is kind of silly: it's about how to be "sociable" when people are brushing their teeth in the women's room at work as I'm washing my hands. I say hi, and try to keep it at that, because their mouth is otherwise engaged-- but the silence seems kind of awkward. It seems too formal to leave it just at "hi" with people I have a good close working relationship with, so I add a little equally-as-awkward comment about how they're my good dental role model for the day and how I should be brushing after lunch too. But that seems kind of weird to say too. Yes, I'm probably overthinking this. How should I handle this? Thank you!

Are you frequently overcome by the desire to make small talk with people who have dental implements in their mouths? If so, you might consider training as a dental hygienist. If you just like talking to anyone whose mouth is full, becoming a waitress might also work. (Yes, you are overthinking this. "Hi" is sufficient, then pay as much focused attention on washing your hands as your coworker is to brushing her teeth.)

Join me Wednesday 6/17 at noon for a live chat, everyone!

Last Monday we addressed the question of "friending" one's mom on Facebook. MD didn't understand the drama:

It'd be pretty harsh to stick it to your mom and not let her be friends with you on facebook. What you should do is just conduct yourself as you would in public and not worry about it too much after that. Unless you're living some kind of double life or an existence she doesn't know about, it'll be fine.

Remember, FB is quickly knocking down traditional "private" walls anyway. Just recognize and treat it as a public image and it won't mess with your head too much.

Not a bad point of view, and many other commenters also pointed out that FB is not private, no matter how much it may feel that way. If knowing that your mom can see those pictures will prevent you from posting something that an HR director might also see, someday down the line, maybe you should friend your mom.

Many people also recommended having subgroups of friends with different privacy settings. I know this is a popular solution, but unless you have extremely obvious ways of delineating the different groups (e.g., all co-workers go in this group, all family in another) it seems like a lot of effort to determine which of your friends get what level of security clearance.

I thought Nick made an awfully good point:

I believe it goes beyond just sharing your "private" life with your parents or not that makes this such an interesting question. It's more about whether or not they understand how this all works. I have nothing to hide on my profile, but as one person said, some parents need to be nosy and understand all of the inside jokes and funny comments, others get that fact that they'll never understand it and are fine with that. My mother happens to be the former and therefore is not my friend.

Not all forms of communication technology work for all relationships. There isn't any formal etiquette of Facebook yet, but there is a certain common sense to it: understanding that you aren't necessarily going to "get" every joke or status update, knowing the difference between commenting on an update or writing on someone's wall or messaging them, realizing that you don't actually have to accept every invitation or "What Type of Throw Pillow Are You?" quiz.

And I love Washington Ave's analysis:

The greatest thing about Facebook is that it is like living in a small town with all your friends, this is as much an advantage as a disadvantage. You've got to live like anything you said might be overheard and repeated as gossip.

Excellent analogy!

Wendy took an "innocent until proven guilty" approach that I think might work fairly well, if you're inclined to give someone the benefit of the doubt:

I had nothing I would be upset about anyone reading on my FB account until my mother-in-law started making inappropriate commentary. She viewed most things I wrote about my children as opportunities to give unwanted advice, which abruptly ended all conversations on a thread. I wrote her a private email explaining to her that I didn't appreciate her behavior. She responded inappropriately, yet again, so I simply removed her and all of her commentary.

I'm a strong believer in setting and enforcing boundaries on Facebook. Politically, my FB friends range from followers of Lenin to followers of Limbaugh, which means that in order to keep the peace I've got a strict "comment in the spirit of my post or not at all" policy. (I almost never post on political matters to begin with, but some of my FB friends are very, very good at reading political meaning into an update.) I'm willing to discuss my beliefs with anyone offline, but Facebook is for fun, and moderating a flamewar between my friends is not "fun."

So! Takeaways:

1. Nothing is really private on Facebook
2. Privacy settings exist for a reason
3. Facebook is one activity among many you can share with your loved ones. Saying "I don't want to FB withyou" isn't like saying, "I don't want to be your friend," it's like saying, "I don't want to play tennis with you." Still requires tact to get the message across, mind you.
4. Don't be afraid to set rules and boundaries on Facebook, and enforce them when you need to.

I feel sorry for this couple. They sound like sweet kids:

How to deal with divorced in-laws? My fiance and I are getting married soon. We are struggling with the troubled relationship between his divorced parents, who split over 7 years ago. Although children have been involved over those years, the relationship remains bitter and argumentative. We feel that we have been very accommodating with our wedding plans, arranging for each parent to plan a segment of the rehearsal dinner separately, planning two showers (one for my future mother in law and one for the family of my future father in law), and shelving our own ideas about unity candles and receiving lines so that they can stay away from each other at the wedding. But we also feel very strongly that we should not accommodate this childish behavior forever, and are worried that our efforts to plan a peaceful wedding will establish a precedent that we might end up regretting later on. When we decide to start a family, we are not interested in having two baby showers, two baptisms or two birthday parties for each of our children. Yet we don't want them to be half-time grandparents either, bowing out because the other plans to attend. They are both good people who we want to be a part of our lives. Is it too much to expect? How can we handle this without upsetting or estranging anyone? Thanks for your help!

What do you think? Personally, I'm inclined to believe that there isn't a way to manage this situation gracefully. Etiquette and social skills are great, but they're not a silver bullet--if people are rockheadedly determined to behave badly, they will, no matter how much compassion and tact you shower them with.

But what do you think?