Double-fisting Starbucks and a Diet Coke. TSM.

The only place I don’t wear letters is student health. TSM.

“I have to stare at myself a lot. It’s part of my getting ready process.” TSM.

Not telling your best friends about last night, because you don’t remember it. TSM.

Blacked out, not tapped out. TSM.

I may have permanent bitch face, but at least it’s pretty. TSM.

“I haven’t done that since freshman year!” TSM.

That time of year when everyone makes her composite photo her profile picture. TSM.

The alumnae touring your room of the house because the chapter unanimously voted it the cutest. TSM.

Putting alcohol in your chaser. TSM.

Getting asked out while wearing last night’s shack shirt. TSM.

Going without social media the week of recruitment being harder than recruitment itself. TSM.

Fraternity bathrooms being your preferred location for emergency girl talk. TSM.

Using a pillow case, not a whole bed sheet, to make your toga. TSM.

Planning out how he invites you to his formal. TSM.

Being the wild child of your family and loving every minute of it. TSM.

Going home with your ex just to make sure nobody else does. TSM.

Wearing one fraternity’s shirt while painting another’s cooler. TSM.

Judging girls’ whose worst standards offense is a social media issue. TSTC.

Managing to make your way to the bar, even when there’s a foot of snow on the ground. TSM.