Describing Greek life to PNMs as a bigger, better, college version of Girl Scouts. TSM.

The little girl you babysit knowing all your sorority chants and hand signs. TSM.

Your boyfriend telling you he will make all of your Pinterest dreams come true. TSM.

I like to see the glass half empty, that way, I can add vodka. TSM.

Your phone auto-correcting “sorry” to “sorrynotsorry.” TSM.

Sending out mass “I miss you” snapchats to your sisters all summer. TSM.

That “Bitch, who do you think you are?” moment when a girl wants to take a picture with your boyfriend. TSM.

I can’t even. I can’t remember being able to even. I have lost the ability to even. THE EVEN DOES NOT EXIST. TSM.

Changing his number to “Two Pump Chump” before going out so you won’t try to booty call him. TSM.

They might not know a lot about Greek life overseas, but they’ll know our hand sign by the time we leave. TSM.

Having the middle name “Marie.” TSM.

You want sorority sisters? I’ve got (one hundred and) twenty! But who cares? No big deal. I want more. TSM.

Drinking your Diet Coke out of a GOP Tervis Tumbler. TSM.

Your boyfriend’s mom calling you the daughter she never had…in front of her daughter. TSM.

Celebrating your birth week, so multiple fraternities can throw you parties. TSM.

Finding glitter from big/little even after you graduate. TSM.

My lineage has its own drinking game. TSM.

Passive aggressive snapchats. TSM.

Daddy was the pledge trainer of his fraternity for two years. If you break my heart, he’ll break you down. TSM.

Having his mother’s approval before you even meet, because you’re in her sorority. TSM.