Doing lunges while holding a glass of wine. TSM.

Not being able to decide if you’re the worst or best standards chair ever. TSM.

Getting the shack shirt without having to shack up. TSM.

Your family being called the Kennedys of the sorority. TSM.

Demanding princess bandaids for your drunken injuries. TSM.

Justifying manicures to Daddy by explaining you’re more productive when you’re pretty. TSM.

You and your sisters drafting your own “Fantasy Pledge Teams” out of the hotties in each fraternity’s new pledge class. TSM.

Fraternity bid party hopping. TSM.

Knowing your little is the one when she makes the last cup in beer pong. TSM.

Being unable to explain what your dad does for a living, but knowing without a shadow of a doubt that he’s damn good at it. TSM.

Being the first one out in a massive game of Never Have I Ever. TSTC.

Buying a handbag solely based on its ability to hold and conceal alcohol. TSM.

The only reason you wear makeup on a Sunday being chapter. TSM.

Always being his best friend on Snapchat. TSM.

Monogrammed koozie. TSM.

“She should’ve filtered that.” TSM.

Looking effortlessly flawless as you stroll into class 20 minutes late. TSM.

Pregaming chapter. TSM.

Judging a girl by how her boyfriend dresses. TSM.

Literally spotting him from a mile away. TSM.