Envision me pointing toward you as you read this column and shouting in a "Tool-Time" voice, "DOES EVERYONE KNOW WHAT DAY IT IS??"

Now you will shout back, "THURSDAY!" and I will be very happy because that means that tomorrow is Friday and that, dear friends, is Halloween.

I LOVE Halloween!! In fact, if Halloween entitled me to lots of presents, then it would most likely be my favorite holiday. As it is, it comes in a close second. The costumes, the glowing vegetables, the fun-sized candy bars that I buy even though there are not children in my neighborhood, anything caramel, but especially apples-who wouldn't love this day?!! By far, however, the best part of Halloween is the dressing up factor. My secret bedtime fear as a child (aside from dropping my candy in the street and having it snatched up by the evil neighbors ... that's a bit of a shout out to my brother) was that this year would be my last year to dress up and that next year I would be too old. Luckily, I came to a university where people share and embrace my youthful passion.

I can recall the Halloweens of years past spent encased in plastic princess dresses, polyester wedding gowns, ballerina tutus and, one special year, a felt crayon suit. I perched on my mother's bathroom counter as she would bobby pin my tiara, supervise my makeup application and pin my crayon point. Some of my favorite childhood memories involve me dressed up as something I was not, and I do not think that is a bad thing.

Granted, as I have gotten older, I have noticed the costumes getting smaller. My very good friend bought her Halloween costume from a lingerie store and I frequently hear the complaint (mainly from women) that "Halloween is just an excuse for females to dress up in next to nothing and parade about."

My response to this: "And, what's your point?" To be quite honest, I do not really see anything wrong with spending a night inside purple snakeskin boots and a miniskirt that once doubled as a tube top while telling people, with a straight face, "No, seriously, I'm a pirate." (Oh wait, that's my Halloween costume). So it's borderline scandalous. So on a normal night it would be a tad tacky. So what? The other 364 days of the year I spend my time clothed in Fashions de la Gap. I think that every one of us owes it to ourselves to step out of character for an evening; after all, we have been doing it since our parents stuffed our infant selves into pumpkin suits with hooded stems and carried us proudly through the neighborhood (after which, I feel like they probably ate my candy).

There is something quite liberating about dressing up and being seen as someone and something you are normally not. I can hardly walk in my purple boots, having worn nothing but flip-flops for a year straight, and I won't be able to sit down all evening for fear that my tube top skirt will bunch around my waist, but I will glide around Tucson swinging my pirate sword with pride.

So, friends, I say slice off the bottom half of your pirate top, slash up your vampire cloak and don that schoolgirl uniform with confidence! We get one night a year to forgo the inhibitions, and I certainly do not intend to waste mine!