Having visible hickeys in your composite picture. TSM.

He showed up to our first date in his Sperrys and khakis, then he told me he was pre-med. He’s perfect. TSM.

Wishing your morning alarm was the sound of a Veuve bottle popping. TSM.

Planning out your boyfriend’s cooler the moment you become official. TSM.

Red Starbucks cup by day. Red solo cup by night. TSM.

Throwing what you know being a priority every time you visit a new place. TSM.

Planning to stay in until you realize how good your hair looks that night. TSM.

I didn’t get a match on Tinder one time, but only because it was my cousin. TSM.

Your mother’s mantra being “Happy wife, happy life.” TSM.

Shower beer. TFM. Makeup wine. TSM.

The “I’m not pregnant” mass text to the possible fathers. TSM.

Being the best dressed sorority, because you have the best t-shirt chair. TSM.

If your feet still hurt in your heels, you’re not drunk enough. TSM.

Cupcake baking deprivation is a very serious issue. TSM.

Let’s be honest. These letters do make me a little bit better than you. TSM.

Wine being one of your “favorites” on your calorie tracker. TSM.

Fabulously late. TSM.

Accepting the fact that you won’t make it through the next mixer without getting called to standards. TSM.

“He seems like an asshole, but he’s a nice guy if you get to know him.” TFM. “She seems like a sweetheart, but she can be a bitch if you get to know her.” TSM.

Sympathizing with Miley. TSM.