I love gay guys, but lesbians…TSM.

My mom joined a book club when we moved to a new neighborhood. And by book club, I mean a group of women that meet to drink wine and gossip about the neighbors. TSM.

Far too many of my stories begin with “so apparently I…” TSM.

Ending a conversation on Facebook politely by “liking” their last comment. TSM.

My ex boyfriend is scared of me. TSM.

I hope real life has test files. TSM.

Adderall-induced Christmas list. TSM.

It’s too big. TSM.

Wearing pearls to your fratdaddy’s house so your walk of shame will be a little bit classier. TSM.

Excusing yourself to the ladies room to avoid dancing with an ugly. TSM.

I don’t shop on Black Friday because I have to…it just gives me one more excuse to shop. TSM.

Let the stalking of formal pictures begin. TSM.

You can never be overdressed or overeducated. TSM.

Lost my pearl earring and a little bit of dignity last night. Not sure which one I’m more upset about…probably the earring. TSM.

I’m kinda over him…but I feel like I should wait until after formal to end it. TSM.

Refusing to “Nice Move” a TSM from your rival chapter. TSM.

When the pencil cup on your desk is filled with more tubes of mascara than it is pencils. TSM.

Knowing it’s going to be a good story when it starts off with “So this BITCH…” TSM.

If you’re not covered in glitter by the time your craft is finished, you didn’t do it right. TSM.

Planning out drunk texts with your sisters while you’re sober. TSM.