I’m not an alcoholic. I’m just a soberphobic. TSM.

Little hunting is like crushing on a boy. You don’t want them to know you’re obsessed, but it’s all you talk about to your friends. TSM.

Your favorite fraternity forwarding you a copy of its social calendar. TSM.

“Don’t put that in the minutes.” TSM.

“I’m too pretty for this.” TSM.

Sunglasses are a hungover girl’s best friend. TSM.

Confusing your stomach flu for a hangover. TSM.

Getting into a cat fight, while you’re dressed up like a cat. TSM.

“I just can’t shake the feeling that the standards chair and the academic chair are plotting against me.” TSTC.

Viewing a hookup as a means of strengthening relations with other houses. TSM.

How will you know when you’re ready to have kids? When you don’t panic at the thought of being sober for 9 months. TSTC.

Making sure your bra and panties match your outfit before going out. TSM.

Your WiFi automatically connecting at your favorite frat houses. TSM.

Putting your composite photos in sun protective glass frames. TSM.

I bleed glitter. TSM.

A private group Zumba class replacing Chapter the week before your semi-formal. TSM.

Pregaming the sober swap. TSM.

The passive aggressive like on your ex-boyfriend’s new girlfriend’s picture. TSM.

Going to class hungover, and still being the best dressed. TSM.

Saying that something is a “back to school item” to justify an unreasonably expensive purchase. TSM.