Chasing shots with wine. TSM.

Fraternity composites being the majority of your photo backdrops. TSTC.

“I mean, I told my big. But that doesn’t count.” TSM.

Having the go-to Plan B sister. TSM.

Making him “hold your beer.” TSM.

Collecting pop tabs at frat parties because you’re philanthropy AF. TSM.

Hate bonding with your Eskimo sisters. TSM.

Getting the inevitable “we still love you and think you’re amazing” from his drunken brothers after a breakup. TSM.

Walking into the risk management workshop like “hello! The risk is here!” TSM.

“OMG…Did you see her story?” TSM.

Glitter being banned on campus. Oops. TSTC.

Guy: so what are your hobbies?
Me: *tries to think of something that isn’t drinking* TSM.

Lipstick stains on every. single. glass. TSM.

Doing the whip to ritual songs. TSTC.

Fuck, no, I don’t want to be sweetheart. That means getting friend zoned by an entire fraternity. TSTC.

Spending the next morning compiling pictures from everyone’s phone into one group text. TSM.

Dating within your monogram. TSM.

Traveling back to your alma mater just to meet the new additions to your family. TSM.

Laughing in his face when your booty call says “I don’t want to hurt you.” As if he ever could. TSTC.

Comparing shack shirts on Sunday mornings. TSM.