I’m an undiagnosed binge shopper. TSM.

Making his mom fall for you even faster than he did. TSM.

Writing “dropped” on the family tree the way Grandma writes “deceased.” TSM.

Red lips. Black dress. TSM.

Spending finals week “studying” at the bars. TSM.

All you need is love…and vodka. TSM.

“I have a name, you know.”
“I’m sure you do.” TSM.

Is it weird that I still retweet TSM even though I graduated? TSTC.

Little’s first shack shirt. TSM.

Spoiling the little you haven’t met yet. TSM.

By “studying,” I mean visiting the magic cabinet of old tests and course work. TSM.

“I’m so fancy. You already know.” TSM.

I’m on an all vodka diet. TSM.

Conditioning potential littles to love the same fraternities as you. TSM.

Let the crafting for our future littles begin. TSM.

Having the prettiest cap at graduation. TSM.

Consistently losing earrings. TSM.

Being a trophy girlfriend. TSM.

Being hungover in your composite photo. TSTC.

I don’t have standards…that’s why I get called to it so much. TSTC.