All I could think on Saturday night was, “I can’t wait to get home and take my bra off!”

Yes, I lived this Halloween as a female. An insecure, slutty 16-year-old female, specifically. Of all the costumes I saw this weekend, I believe mine was probably one that held the most impact — at least to myself.

Sure, great lessons might be learned from dressing up as a Slim Jim, a paper airplane or a pirate, but the sociological and personal observations I made while wearing pigtails, lipstick, a sequin-covered tube top and skintight jeans will not soon be forgotten.

I realized the discomforts women must go through should be respected much more than they usually are. Finally, I was made more aware of the bad vibes given off by individuals who can’t stand being around something or someone they don’t understand.

Of course, the discomforts of wearing a bra and top that won’t stay still became very real to me, and I now empathize with the opposite sex far more for their extra need for support. I won’t even go into the pains of wearing a thong.

On the other hand, there were many moments I found more amusing than awkward. The purple corduroy hat I wore topped the outfit off, and the pink bracelets aided as accessories, but it was my noticeable “treasure trail” of belly hair that pulled the entire look together and evoked the most memorable facial expressions. Initial reactions from both friends and strangers were a balanced mix of “Awesome!” and “Gross!” Both just made me giggle.

The most unforgettable responses I received will probably change the way I read every editorial column that has to do with catcalls, sexism or homophobia. I caught many pairs of eyes checking out my backside and slowly looking up to my B-cup chest before coming to my Adam’s apple and turning quickly in embarrassment. At least one inebriated college boy actually had enough liquid courage to admit to having “checked me out” and mistaken me for a real girl. By this I was flattered.

The not-so-friendly glances and comments were the buzzkills that have made me realize just how much some people really do react negatively to others based only on their style or appearance. I understand I wasn’t exactly appealing this weekend, what with my “Casper The Friendly Ghost”-esque skin tone being both exposed and accentuated. But did that really call for one gentleman to yell profanities at me and threaten to knock me out upon meeting me?

What happened to just having fun with our freedom of expression, especially on a night where strange sights are not unusual and, in fact, are to be expected? Apparently from this guy’s comments, he felt his sexuality threatened in some way by my pretty self. I’d like to see how this miserable boy would handle himself if he walked into the Maintenance Shop on drag night.

While I’m on the topic of taboo behavior and the reactions it provokes, I must tell you how naughty I felt every time my bra and tube top would slip a little too far and my nipples came into view. From the moment I stuffed my bra with tissues, there was an unwritten rule that whatever lies underneath was covered for a reason.

I’m not one to be easily offended, and I wasn’t really surprised by any of the backlash or personal inconveniences that accompanied my costume this weekend. But, as I said, I was changed a little after experiencing going out for a few nights as a pseudo-female. Like an after-school special, Halloween this year not only provided an excuse to dress up and go buck wild, but it has taught me a lesson or two as well.