I won’t even look at you if your car is smaller than mine. TSM.

The last spritz of hairspray before the pearls go on. TSM.

Putting my number in a fratdaddy’s phone when he is passed out because his boxers are monogrammed. TSM.

For the next four weeks, I am tanning instead of eating. Welcome to formal season. TSM.

Majoring in Political Science because when I’m the first Lady I am going to do more than just a “healthy eating” campaign. TSM.

My birth control pack lives in its own Lilly wristlet. TSM.

Mobile uploads. TSM.

Making my frat daddy bow tie pasta for dinner because it’s the frattiest dinner I could think of. TSM.

Headband Headache. TSM.

Skinny genes. TSM.

Formal shoes costing more than my formal dress. TSM.

“It’s not the having, it’s the getting.” -Elizabeth Taylor. TSM.

Being able to make everyone feel like you actually care. TSM.

Tweeting about others around me while on the treadmill. TSM.

The only thing I want for my birthday is a visit from Aunt Flow. TSM.

You can’t afford to love me, GDI. TSM.

“When the sun comes up, I’ll have morals again.” -Elizabeth Taylor. TSM.

Putting rhinestones on our beer pong table. TSM.

So rich, so pretty. TSM.

Walking around Spring Break taking the pop tops off beer cans for philanthropy. TSM.