The post-Thanksgiving break screaming reunions. TSM.
The post-Thanksgiving break screaming reunions. TSM.
Using your computer’s webcam to fix your hair and makeup at the library. TSM.
Never have I ever been able to remember Spring Break. TSM.
Searching your sorority on Instagram and liking all the photos to send love to sisters all across the country. TSM.
That joyful feeling when you come home for break and your parents tell you that you look too skinny. TSM.
I can’t wait to go home and smell Thanksgiving dinner! TSM.
Who needs a boyfriend when you have a little brother to cook for, pick out clothes for, and nag for no reason? TSM.
Our sorority house is called The Dollhouse. TSM.
Knowing that you need a new “type” of guy to date, but not wanting a bad profile picture. TSM.
Your phone autocorrecting “little” to “LITTLEEEEE!!!!!” TSM.
Turning on read receipts so that he knows you’re ignoring him. TSM.
Pregaming the flight home. TSM.
Blackout, rack out. TSM.
I can’t tell if she’s trying to suck up to me or if she passive aggressively hates me. TSM.
I’m like the version of Kate Upton whose father loved her. TSM.
Never directing the F-word at someone you care about. I am, of course, referring to “fat.” TSM.
Getting legitimately angry when Lindsay Lohan tells Emma Gerber she looks really pretty. TSM.
Awwwww, Little’s first “I need to find a husband.” TSM.
Finding a man who can talk business with your dad, and talk dirty to you. TSM.
Another day, another t-shirt. TSM.