Changing the date party theme based on the outfit you want to wear. TSM.

Having a mental breakdown, because you need to use a different filter once you dye your hair. TSM.

Drunk dialing the risk management chair and making her promise not to be mad at you. TSM.

Blonde hair, black heart, pink everything else. TSM.

Finding your underwear from last night in your purse at brunch. TSM.

“He doesn’t look good in photos. Wait, that actually might be a really huge problem.” TSM.

Hooking up with an alum purely for the good alcohol. TSM.

Dressing like a homeless person for class, but like a cute one. TSM.

All your casual hookups falling for you. TSM.

“What time do you want to get there? It starts at 10.”
“11.” TSM.

Beyoncé literally never wearing pants. TSM.

Scheduling your mental breakdown for early morning or late night because mascara is expensive. TSM.

Your drop screen telling you how long it would take to get to the bars. TSM.

Having a playlist prepared for when you get back home. You know why. TSM.

Only using the pink lighter to light the bowl. TSTC.

My favorite drink is the kind boys buy for me. TSM.

Reaching a new level of “scary senior.” TSM.

Using the nearest fraternity as a substitute boyfriend whenever you need something done around the house. TSM.

Getting called to standards because you blew off your meeting with standards. TSM.

My “type” is trust fund babies. TSM.