By “going on a diet” I mean “getting so drunk I forget to eat.” TSM.
By “going on a diet” I mean “getting so drunk I forget to eat.” TSM.
Judging people who choose multi-colored Christmas lights over plain white. TSM.
Having a discussion with your sisters, and deciding that because Anastasia isn’t a Disney Princess, she’s basically a GDI. TSM.
The guy I made out with was cute right? His prof pic is blurry…just like my memory of him. TSM.
Understanding the value of a sister whose “good side” is the middle. TSM.
The standard “What’s your status?” getting ready text. TSM.
The “please be distracted by how cute I am and don’t realize it isn’t me on that ID” smile you shoot the bouncer. TSM.
Just say no to sweatpants. TSM.
The only thing I’ve learned during finals week is the importance of marrying rich. TSM.
I’m not saying uploading a video of yourself inviting a football player to formal is desperate…wait, yeah, actually I am. TSM.
“Out-boobing” doesn’t count if you’re fat. TSM.
Having a public Facebook account so his new girlfriend can creep you and feel adequately inferior. TSM.
Mom says all of my reusable water bottles have a funny taste. Probably because I kept tequila in them all of freshman year. TSM.
His fraternity giving you the final say on blackballing a pledge. TSM.
“Let me check my costume box, I’m sure I can come up with something.” TSM.
Champagne power hour before semi-formal. TSM.
Making him double-text. TSM.
Being called a “lady legacy” by the boys at your daddy’s fraternity. TSM.
Feeling a wave of relief once you realize you’re prettier. TSM.
Glitter therapy sessions. TSM.