Word: grabbings
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...each day Leno drives to the cramped offices of the Feminist Majority Foundation in her blue BMW in which the red engine light keeps coming on (she says Jay coddles only his vintage cars). She recruited Linda Bloodworth-Thomason (creator of Designing Women) to help grab attention for Afghan women. Together, they battled compassion fatigue to mount a $150- per-head buffet dinner with more than 100 A-list names. Despite Leno's spending 12-hour days on the phone, performers and guests were dropping out days before the March 29 event ("You mean Sally Field's not coming? Well...
...three national campaigns and has figured in every big Clinton decision. "He's still an empty picture frame," says Harvard law professor Chris Edley, a regular at the strategy sessions that take place every two weeks or so at Gore's mansion. The plan is simple: grab credit for the good that has happened under Clinton, maintain distance from the bad and deliver a rationale that Gore is the right person to carry the country forward...
...communism was just a passing phase. His wife, a fervent Marxist, says ideology has never meant as much to Milosevic as it does to her. When he saw a chance to grab power, he pushed the communists aside and refashioned himself as a nationalist. In 1987 he went to Kosovo, the cradle of Serbian identity, to soothe the grievances of local Serbs, and he made his name by declaring, "No one shall be allowed to beat you." Milosevic was moved less by Serb nationalism than by its power to electrify. "After that night," recounted a Serb journalist, "there...
...elegant bed-and-breakfast in Nesbit, Miss., was with her daughter Ashley, 8, granddaughter Jessica, 12, and two children of family friends at a slumber party in the sleeper when the collision occurred and fuel from a punctured engine sparked a conflagration. All Bonnin had time to do was grab Ashley and hand her through the window to a cook from the dining...
...home for any appreciable time and not be rushed. Shit, no inter-House at Adams today. Gong this! 11 a.m. is too early for lunch anyways, but I have nothing else to do and I'm avoiding my TF's office hours in Loker. I head to Holyoke to grab a seat at the awkwardly situated Campo di Fioro (spellcheck!!). I get the first chunk of the freshly baked bread du jour on my sandwich and I take mental notes on who's going into...