Day 301: The Horse Is at the Shore, and Yet...

I may be your teacher, but be darn glad you're not mine.

For the last eighteenth months or so I've been working as an editor for Ellen Lubin-Sherman, the under-the-radar arbiter of all things fabulous, on her forthcoming book about... well, how to be fabulous.

Among a thousand other things, Ellen has reminded me of some basics:
-E-mail is a real letter. Pay attention when you hit Send.
-Crocs and burquas do the same thing for women.
-Toss the red tartan footless tights. (I can't.)
-Stop saying "I'm so busy." We're all busy.
-Do what you love, and love what you do. And do it well, dammit.

Still, despite her excellent leadership, I find myself right now trying to look all proctorish while giving a final exam, before a live group of Bridgewater undergrads desperately trying to remember the historical significance of Newport '65, wearing this:

Ellen, please forgive me. We can lead the horse to water... .