Grandma taught me how to bake, mom taught me how to cook, daddy taught me how to hunt, my sisters teach me how to look. TSM.

You’re just a less hot version of me. TSM.

Bronzer residue on the iPhone. TSM.

Switching to Coke Zero because Diet Coke just tastes like rum now. TSM.

The two types of secrets I’m good at keeping: Ritual and Recipes. TSM.

The only time I’m high is when I’m wearing heels. TSM.

I’ve got my LP dress, my LV bag, and a LI in my hand. TSM.

Hating by association. TSM.

I don’t insult people. I describe them. TSM.

Spending more time getting ready for a recruitment event than I do getting ready to go out on the weekends. TSM.

Always practicing your picture pose and smile before every mixer. TSM.

If the shoes aren’t hurting, they aren’t helping. TSM.

Is it bad that I purposely walk in late to class so everyone will see how cute I look? TSM.

“No, that’s just my birth control alarm.” TSM.

Choosing my formal date based on which fraternity formal I’d rather attend. TSM.

Nothing brings sisters together like five bottles of wine. TSM.

Starting to actually believe that you don’t haze…because you don’t. TSM.

I always wear lace undergarments…you know, just in case. TSM.

Judging girls by how pretty their friends are. TSM.

Practicing my “surprised” face for Christmas day even though I know exactly what everyone is getting me. TSM.