Choosing the perfect outfit for one night can destroy an entire room. TSM.
Choosing the perfect outfit for one night can destroy an entire room. TSM.
That feeling you get when your favorite frat star gives you the power point before he wins his 8th straight game of pong. TSM.
Its not just my baked goods that will make your Brooks Brothers tighten. TSM.
I wore my mommas heels when I was little now I wear her badge. TSM.
On the pursuit of preppiness. TSM.
“Did she get…fatter?” TSM.
“A string of pearls, showing off her suntan. And all those curls, dancing ’round her Raybans.” TSM.
Pre-planning my drunk sexts so they make sense. TSM.
Nothing says “I love you” like “I hate you.” TSM.
That “no I can explain” feeling you get when you walk of shame back from the sorority house because you couldn’t make it to your dorm the night before. TSM.
Giving girls the side-eye when they call your boyfriend by his real name instead of his nickname. TSM.
Even when you think we don’t know, we know. TSM.
He spoils me with presents. I spoil him with presence. TSM.
Time flies when you’re having rum. TSM.
Waking up early to pregame graduation. TSM.
Regina George is just misunderstood. TSM.
I will literally repin anything with my letters on it. TSM.
“I mean, the most important thing in a relationship is trust…after sex and hygiene and earning potential.” -Blair Waldorf. TSM.
The only time I’m wrong is when I think my drunken implications are subtle. TSM.
Crafting for my Little when she joins. Crafting for my Big when she goes Alum. TSM.