Sending the other houses cookies during recruitment and hoping they don’t have time to work out. TSM.

Backhanded compliments. TSM.

I’m not even engaged but my girls already fight over who gets to be my maid of honor. TSM.

“Oh, you’re going through recruitment? Have you bought new clothes yet?” TSM.

Get in, get out, get the shack shirt. TSM.

Considering your wardrobe an investment. TSM.

“Okay, now a picture with just us…” TSM.

Men are like fashion designers. If I don’t recognize the last name, they’re not worthy my time. TSM.

Already have my rush crush in my contacts as “Little.” TSM.

I have beautiful things imported from all over the world, but beauty this priceless can only be made in America. TSM.

“I don’t mean to sound bitchy, but…someone had to say it.” TSM.

So many shot book pages to make, so little time. TSM.

Always bringing his parents a homemade cake or pie before we go to church on Sunday mornings. TSM.

When I say “letters” I don’t mean the ABCs. TSM.

I’m what you call a “Secret Bitch.” TSM.

Grilling steaks. TFM. Baking cakes. TSM.

Going alum means going from recruitment clothes shopping, to rec-letter writing. TSM.

Sure, there are girls in my sorority that I don’t get along with. But I’d totes be there for ANY of them in a heartbeat if they needed me. TSM.

Judging other sororities on their tan-to-pale ratio. TSM.

A ROCK for my ring finger, PAPER in my bank account, and SCISSORS for crafting. TSM.