Audrey Hepburn is my go-to party costume. TSM.

Receiving flowers from my fratdaddy just for being pretty. TSM.

The only time that my nails get dirty is when I am crafting. TSM.

Skipping class to get ready for composite pictures. TSM.

Ignored the fire alarm today because I was too busy working on a cooler to worry about the house burning down. TSM.

Having a pocket of your spring break luggage dedicated to koozies and croakies. TSM.

Being considered by every ex-boyfriend as “the one who got away.” TSM.

Always looking like an “after,” and never a “before.” TSM.

If you aren’t in my contact list you don’t exist. TSM.

Judging everyone at the hair salon on their choice of color and cut. TSM.

We don’t need a “milkshake” to bring all the boys to the yard. TSM.

My power hour playlist doubles as a workout playlist when it’s time for my intervals at the gym. TSM.

Who needs a fratdaddy with a trust fund when you have your own? Who am I kidding? Two is better than one. TSM.

Sketching out cooler ideas while watching Say Yes to the Dress and waiting for our chef to finish making dinner. TSM.

Formal…wasn’t even there long enough to get called to standards. TSM.

Going to a steakhouse and ordering a salad. TSM.

My iPhone now recognizes “sorostitute” as a word. TSM.

Mom jeans. NS. Mom’s genes. TSM.

“It’s so weird to see you in jeans and not a dress.” TSM.

Practicing my future signature with my fratdaddy’s last name. TSM.