I’m quite delighted that fall is here again in New Orleans. The Saints are back in the Dome, VooDoo Fest is days away and the homes on St. Charles Avenue have already begun their first of many waves of lavish decorations for the holidays.

In fact, just last night I carved a fleur-de-lis into a pumpkin as my own form of preliminary merriment. Perhaps that’s a bit Mignon Faget cliché of me, but give a girl a break. Crescent City paraphernalia has taken over my life and I don’t mind a bit.

Not since my freshman year at Loyola have I experienced the joys of autumn in this blessed city. I spent my previous fall semester at Spring Hill, and if there was any doubt in my mind that New Orleans is a godsend for those of us in need of a little something extra – “lagniappe” as I sometimes say – Mobile confirmed my suspicions. Carving jack-o-lanterns at a quiet on-campus party doesn’t hold a tea light candle to donning one’s costume du jour and strolling down Frenchmen Street for the night.

There’s just something eerily fabulous about Halloween around here. The holiday itself conjures visions of vampires and witches, ghosts and cemeteries – none of which are lacking year round in our fair city. Stories of hauntings in the Quarter and Voodoo queens practicing black magic behind the cathedral are innumerable. So how could a holiday devoted to such morgue-ish debauchery not find a comfortable home here?

There are a plethora of fabulous things to do this time of year. Go on a cemetery tour. Attend a Vampire Ball, a la Anne Rice. Go to Boo at the Zoo and Scarium at the Aquarium. Experience Frenchmen Street on Halloween, buy a Voodoo doll, take a haunted history tour, and, if you must, carve a freaking fleur-de-lis into your pumpkin.

People get into Halloween around here almost as much as they get into Mardi Gras. There’s an ambience all year, but on Halloween, New Orleans just glows. This city is home to a lot of freaks. It always has been. Since its founding, pirates, thieves, and wealthy Southerners alike all found a place here. That’s why everyone goes so wild for masquerading; they can be whoever and whatever they want.

In all honesty, about half of Loyola’s student population – the freshman and sophomore classes – seems to be lacking in the fall semester department. That’s a real shame, especially for the sophomore class. I can’t imagine missing my first semester here. Now it’s finally here. Your long-awaited semester taken from you and replaced by a hurrication is granted you at last.

Here’s your chance to really get a feel for this place. Experience it in all its mysterious glory. One of the best parts of your first semester at Loyola is getting a feel for this creepy, old, historic city. Mystery seems to seep right out of the homes around here, in a gosh-I-love-intrigue kind of way. But maybe that’s just the dorky history major in me.

I guess what all this really boils down to is that, like most people around here, I’d really like to see the focus moved from some barren, Katrina-ridden land to what once was: a city rich in culture. New Orleans is down but certainly not out. We need all the help we can get, no doubt, but we haven’t lost our touch.

We don’t need to hear “Do You Know What It Means to Miss New Orleans?” on repeat, because we do know. Let’s hear it for “The Saints Go Marching In.” I want to listen to Louis Armstrong croon “Christmas in New Orleans”, and “Mardi Gras Mambo” and have everyone ax for me at the Audubon Zoo. Until then, I’ll keep wearing my ‘Make Levees, Not War’ T-shirt proudly and continue my search for the perfect Halloween ensemble. Bring on the bacchanalia!

Emily Otto is a history junior from Mobile, Ala.