Struggling to hold in your laughter during a candle passing when your sister whispers into your ear “I have to fart.” TSTC.

Changing out of your letters and into his. TSM.

Turning him into the “boyfriend type.” TSM.

Only talking to him come formal season. TSM.

Choosing a little based on her ability to fit in your hand-me-downs. TSM.

A hot glue gun being both your best friend and your worst enemy. TSM.

Reciting your chapter’s purpose in your dream, but forgetting the words when you’re awake. TSM.

You’re no one until you’re talked about. TSM.

If you don’t get called into standards on Monday, did you really have a good weekend? TSM.

Knowing your little was up to no good when you get the “Biiiiiiiiig” text in the morning. TSM.

Every text from your little starting out “Help!” TSM.

Your “sixth sense” being your ability to peg any guy for his fraternity, before even being introduced. TSM.

Never having to “partner up” with a stranger in class. TSM.

Snapchatting frowny faces during your standards meeting. TSM.

“I’m on this new Starbucks and wine cleanse.” TSM.

Telling a guy you won’t go home with him, because you’re “too pretty to deal with whiskey dick.” TSM.

You and your sorority sister getting matching vibrators from a sex toy party. TSM.

Greek week isn’t a competition. Winning is a tradition. TSM.

“It’s more like a date fucktion.” TSM.

Working on his cooler during “The Bachelor” commercials. TSM.