Giving out your ex-boyfriend’s number as your own. TSM.

Refusing to sign up for a class unless at least five of your sisters are in it. TSM.

Biting your lip when the TA makes eye contact with you. TSM.

Fighting off the urge to stress eat during the most stressful week of the year. TSM. Using wine you snuck into the house to fight that urge. TSTC.

Being jealous that guys get to haze. TSM.

Being wildly disappointed by what the film The Craft was about. TSM.

That wonderful time of year called work week where you aren’t sure whether you’re going to hug or strangle your sisters just before you embrace them. TSM.

Being known as the sorority girl since day one. TSM.

Using TSM articles to justify bad decisions. TSM.

Not being able to paint a cooler for shit, but getting an invitation to every formal anyway. TSM.

Having no legacy connection, no friends in the chapter, and no letters of recommendation, but still getting a bid to a top house. TSM.

Empathizing with Rebecca Martinson. TSM.

Having more shack shirts from sisters than from boys. TSM.

Getting a smoothie to be healthy, and then spiking it with vodka. TSM.

Men are only good for two things: directions and erections. TSM.

Being on the receiving end of a drunken text bomb. TSM.

Buying your flower girl her first set of pearls for being in your wedding. TSM.

Putting way more time and effort in getting into a sorority than getting into college. TSM.

Coordinating your outfit to match your luggage. TSM.

That one alumna who is equal parts terrifying and fabulous. TSM.