“I know who your big is.” TSM.
“I know who your big is.” TSM.
Hating an entire sorority because you hate one girl in it. TSM.
“If I get fat, please tell me. Don’t even be sensitive about it. Just be a sister and tell me.” TSM.
I haven’t set foot in an Abercrombie since middle school, but I fully support their marketing campaign. TSM.
His mom always taking your side. TSM.
Knowing that a class debate led by two sorority girls is really about which house is smarter. TSM.
Accidentally placing your hand over your heart while singing ritual songs in chapter. TSM.
When past recruitment chairs won’t talk to you because your pledge classes were better than hers. TSM.
Applying love songs to your relationship with your little. TSM.
GDIs asking why you’re dressed up when you are in your idea of casual clothes. TSM.
Looking perfect the day after a breakup to show him exactly what he’s losing. TSM.
Associating with fraternity men, not frat boys. TSM.
The week leading up to big/little pref being the closest you come to hating your sisters. TSM.
Wine is the new black. TSM.
Getting “I’ll have one of every slice” drunk. TSM.
That blissful moment between wake and sleep, when you don’t yet remember all of the heinous things you did last night. TSM.
Writing a paper about sorority life, and not only acing it, but being told by your professor that you successfully recruited him. TSM.
Your professor knowing, without looking, that you were the one with the pink pen. TSM.
Abbreviating everything except the word “fraternity.” TSM.
Burning off last night’s vodka calories to the same songs that were playing while you were consuming them. TSM.