Word: drawerfuls
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...Josh Edelman '00 sees the Student Playwrights Project as the core force behind his play. "Without the SPP, [my play] would have stayed in my desk drawer. I could never get the people, the resources and the money together to do a full-scale production of this script without a lot of work on my part, and it's great to know that there's a way this play can happen without all that fuss," he explains. Edelman's drama, Barbary, which he describes as a "meditation on the violence, loneliness and emptiness of much of American society," will...
...petty arguing ceases when our level-headed concierge friend Jerry brings the conversation full circle. He pulls a picture of him and Al Gore i69 out of the concierge desk drawer. I deduce that the Sheraton must support Gore as the next commander. iNo comment, we donit get involved in that,i Jerry says...
...those of you not familiar with it, let me briefly explain the Senior Gift. Harvard has $14 billion in the bank, enough money to rent God out for the weekend. I have a Pizza Ring coupon and a dresser drawer full of change. The Senior Gift is Harvard saying, "How much change you got?" So you can see why so many seniors are complaining: we've got almost nothing, but the world's richest university still wants some of it. The Senior Gift is like Mr. Universe trying to eat your grandmother's vitamins. It's like a food drive...
...pair them with a closetful of Richard Tyler and Giorgio Armani suits. But now her designer duds share space with her cashmere and wool Banana Republic sweaters and Old Navy nylon pants and fleece shirts. "Banana Republic has that grownup, luxurious merchandise," she says. She then opens her dresser drawer to expose a pile of Old Navy pajama pants, better known to Old Navy shoppers as Just Bottoms. "Old Navy is what the Gap used to be," she explains. "Old Navy rocks. It has the balls to have a point of view, and I appreciate that...
...Saturday morning. Groggy-eyed, you open your underwear drawer and the sinking reality hits you: it's laundry day again. You lug your sack of laundry--usually a parting gift from your parents as a last hurrah before college--and bottle of Tide down 36 flights of stairs. And then you realize that you forgot your swipe card and your laundry ordeal begins...