Remember the good ol' days?

When dressing up for Halloween meant donning an entirely plastic super hero outfit or raiding your grandparents' closet for over-sized threads and then spending the evening gorging on candy with no fear of safety pins in your Snickers bar?

Those days are long gone.

With Victoria's Secret having taken away any mystery of what lingerie looks like on the scantily-clad female form (my 7-year-old sister is horrified at having to look at bras and panties in the mall, walking down the street and when the mail comes ... ) and "Jersey Shore" having popularized slut-tastic behavior and garb, there are no boundaries anymore.

Especially when it comes to Halloween costumes.

Now, I'm all for self-expression ... obviously ... but, I always find it interesting to see who dresses up as what on Oct. 31.

I'm the spookalicious version of those Valentine's Day/Sweetest Day haterz who lament about lame lovers needing a special day as a reminder to validate their romance.

Personally, I don't need a special day to wear dramatic makeup, don a wig and a perhaps a little gold lamé. Everyday is dress up for me.

And I certainly don't need an excuse to dress provocatively either. But, other than a little cleav-ahhhge at a rock show or a touch of bare midriff on rare occasion (if I've really cut the carbs,) you won't catch me (scantily) dressed up as the hooker version of anything.

I call these ladies of the night "The Halloween Ho" or "Scary Skank." This is basically any costume devoid of clothing, way too abundant in boobage or having a surplus of fishnet/garter clad legs revealed teetering on skeezy heels.

Examples of this stripper's excuse for a costume are "Girl Next Door," "Victoria's Secret Angel" and "naughty nurse, French maid, cop, etc..."

I'm talking lingerie as extreme outerwear here. And not in a fashionable, tasteful way like Madonna in her tailored suit circa "Express Yourself" or the "slip dress" with a cardigan on top or even the top of…

Social media whiz, I am not, but I totally get "She Said, He Said," a weekly Twitter chat between locals Shelby Sapusek and Jim Raffel that stages the battle of the sexes in cyberspace.

Sapusek and Raffel showcase their differing opinions on social media and blogging topics in 140 characters or fewer on what is still, in my non-techie opinion, the coolest, easiest, most user-friendly social media site.

You can follow their banter every Thursday at 8 p.m. on Twitter by following the #shehechat hashtag. (If you don't know what a hashtag is ... you are not alone. It is merely a word or phrase that Tweeties are trying to trend by placing a "#" sign in front of it, allowing it to be tracked.)

Now, Sapusek and Raffel are taking their conversation live in Milwaukee at Ivy Lounge and Grill at 1118 N. 4th St. (right across from the Bradley Center) on Thursday Oct. 27, 2011 from 7–9 p.m. in a Tweetup to benefit the Wisconsin chapter of the Pancreatic Cancer Action Network.

Ivy Lounge generously donated the venue for this charitable cause because according to partner Khary Penebaker, who has a family member with pancreatic cancer, "We realize that providing an establishment where one can have a great time, unwind and let go of the week's difficulties is one thing, but we still want to have a way to give back as best we can. This Tweetup event is a great opportunity to introduce Ivy to a different crowd than we typically market to and it provides an opportunity to host a worthwhile event that will help promote awareness as well as collect donations that will be given to the Pancreatic Cancer Action Network."

Extremely timely, in the wake of the passing of Steve Jobs. For just a $10 donation you can enjoy appetizers, door prizes and the performance. What a way to honor the man whose innovative mind gave us so many of the tech tools we use to live our lives.

Totally a Tweenius?? (That's a Twitter genius.) Use this hashtag (you know what it is now!) when you tweet th…

I would categorize myself as a pretty serious yogi.

I use the word "pretty" for an accurate depiction of my dedication in comparison to other yoga enthusiasts, not as in, "I am a pretty yogi," because those who have had the fun of practicing with me know – the glamour stops at the yoga mat with me. I am not into expensive yoga clothes, makeup on the mat or fancy hairdos. I am all about the breath and the asana in the yoga studio.

I've had setbacks, periods of time with little or spotty physical practice, but for the most part, yoga is a daily part of my life. In fact, there were a number of years that I practiced the Ashtanga Primary series six days a week.

In all that time, about eight years to be exact, certain poses have eluded me.

The real stickler, the bane of my yogic existence, is Marichyasana D. This pose is generally one that causes most yogic mortals issue; specifically achieving the bind of the hands around the legs, which are pretzeled with one leg in half lotus and the other in a squat.

Over the years, I have really let go of "achieving" this particular posture. It no longer makes issue with me daily. I go for it and then let it go when it doesn't happen. After all – isn't this the real yoga ... non-attachment Especially to something as insignificant as a physical yoga pose.

I then popped into class at an Ashtanga studio where the teacher insisted that I should be binding this particular pose after all this time.

I thought, "OK ... if she thinks I should be doing it, maybe it should be more important to me at this point." So, I asked her what I could do to make that happen.

Her reply still sends shudders through me.

The very slender teacher nonchalantly requested, "Give me five of your pounds."

Excuse me?

Did she just tell me to lose weight to achieve a yoga pose?

Now, I am by no means as slim as this teacher who suggested this to me. I am also nowhere near overweight. Nor over fat. I am at a healthy weight and bodyfat percentage for …