About: Gabe Cralley
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- Gabe Cralley has written 12 articles.
Posts by Gabe Cralley:
Skating through adolescence
I had the privilege of going roller skating with some of my friends in St. Charles a couple of weeks ago. When they invited me, I had the image in my mind of the skating rinks I am used to at home: 12-year-olds tentatively inching across a dirty, greased sheet of plastic set to the soundtrack of cheesy oldies music and the admonitions of its crotchety old owner.
Chronicle of an innocent murder
I want to sleep. Badly. Last night I did not get to bed until 4:30 a.m. because I was working on a Spanish essay about Gabriel García Márquez and his work, “Crónica de una Muerte Anunciada.” “Crónica” is his work that is most grounded in reality, detailing the murder of an innocent man, Santiago Nasar.
When posters promote sexual objectification
I feel awkward. Everywhere I go, I see posters advertising events like Dr. Judy’s Tantric Sex Workshop and Anal Pleasure 101, and I, with my sheltered life, can’t help but blush. Red face notwithstanding, I am fully aware that students will enjoy these events, and they have every right to do so. What bothers me, [...]
In where do I fit?
I have a tendency to use semicolons in text messages. It’s a compulsion, really, that I associate with my childhood affliction—an obsession with grammar
Out from under my umbrella (ella ella)
I realized the other day that I’ve gone through three umbrellas since I’ve been here at school, quite a change from home, where it rarely rains after May.
I will never wear girls’ jeans again
They are too tight, too uncomfortable, and my thighs are too big, but it was for Halloween, and I chose to be a hipster. My friends and I planned it two or three weeks in advance: We would dress up as random counterculture groups and beg for candy at the Central West End as a nostalgic act of silliness.
Journeying back to the land of censorship
Remember that part in “The Odyssey” when Odysseus returns to Ithaca and finds that everything has changed, up to the suitors prancing around like 50-year-old men at a prostate exam, legs clinched and manliness on full showcase?
Hammocks and expectations hamper true intentions
I realized the other day that there is no dignified way to climb out of a hammock. I was lying in one outside my dorm, sprawled against my most favorite philosopher, Plato (sarcasm), catching up on some reading that was long overdue.
On drunken ambiguity
I stayed up far too late a few nights ago, talking with my friends, venting some frustrations and laughing about Napoleon (ambiguous jokes are always the best kind). There I sat, crunched against the wall, knees pulled into my chest, when a group of loud and obviously drunk freshmen stumbled past my withdrawn feet, shouting about finding a friend of theirs.
Men’s group flexes muscles, judged 3.2
The most anticipated event of my college career (so far, at least) came last week in the form of the Activities Fair. Considering I was over-involved in high school, as I’m sure most of the other students at Wash. U. were, I couldn’t wait to check out all of the different clubs in which I [...]
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