Live like a princess. Look like Barbie. Party like Ke$ha. TSM.

Midwest charm, Southern class, West Coast tan, and East Coast sass. TSM.

Always having an overwhelming amount of Facebook notifications from comments in your sorority’s Facebook groups. TSM.

Adding the Greek alphabet to your iPhone languages. TSM.

Double fisting a water and skinny latte from Starbucks on Saturday morning. TSM.

You’d make a good doctor’s wife. TSM.

That moment of fear when putting on your dress that your perfect curls might get crushed. TSM.

How cute, she thinks she’s in a real sorority. TSM.

Knowing the best way to my fratdaddy’s heart is keeping the fridge stocked with beer and the freezer with whiskey. TSM.

Judging GDIs for judging you. TSM.

Going the long way home because the houses have better Christmas lights. TSM.

Using your Longchamps to smuggle alcohol across campus. TSM.

Dusting the snow off of your stilettos because you wouldn’t be caught dead in flats on formal night. TSM.

My sorority family raging harder than any of our dates at semi. TSM.

A sister gets dumped, we all get drunk. TSM.

I have Addy issues, not daddy issues. TSM.

Complaining that your fratdaddy hasn’t texted you all day then playing the waiting game when he finally does. TSM.

Took Adderall to study for my finals and the only thing I got accomplished was perfecting my eyelashes. TSM.

Wearing your letters everyday of your last week as a full collegiate member. TSM.

Fighting sisters over the cutest letter shirts at senior wills. TSM.