Being asked to fix his cooler because the last girl didn’t know what she was doing. TSM.

Telling your friend how precious her little is as if it’s her child. TSM.

Recruitment, not boys, being your motivation to stay in shape. TSM.

Having to put a password on your phone so your parents don’t find your drunk selfies. TSM.

“Hopefully this run makes up for the whole bottle of wine I’m going to drink tonight.” TSM.

Wanted: part-time boyfriend. Sunday-Wednesday. TSM.

Planning your tailgate months before the first football game. TSM.

Considering yourself a martyr when letting someone drink your last Diet Coke. TSM.

Going over in your letters, leaving in his. TSM.

Watching the World Cup for Cristiano Ronaldo. TSM.

Never going a day without texting your group chat. TSM.

Your friend texting you about your unhealthy crafting obsession as you’re walking into Michael’s. TSM.

Your phone autocorrecting “frap” to “frat.” TSM.

Your biological family having to repeatedly remind you to stop squatting in family photos. TSM.

Crafting with alcohol bottles so you have an excuse to drink. TSM.

Wearing an American flag bow to every World Cup viewing party. TSM.

Not having enough room on your phone for more music because you refuse to delete all your drunk selfies. TSM.

New girls knowing who you are when you’re a senior because your little and g-little talk about you so much. TSM.

Always voting against your rival sorority, no matter the school. TSM.

Crafting takes no summer vacation. TSM.