While fratdaddy is getting baked…I bake. TSM.

Top-tier fraternity’s winter formal shirt. Nike shorts. Letter flip-flops. Pearls. Teased hair. Fabulous head-to-toe. TSM.

Having your sisters help you leave your dignity at the door. TSM.

Teaching a State Rep how to open a box of wine, and him thanking you for an important life lesson. TSM.

Having your little picked out since the first week of school. TSM.

Mimosa pong. TSM.

I have a pledge mother, a house mother, a god-mother, and a real mother. Now all I need is a mother-in-law. TSM.

I only wear size large: children and adult. TSM.

Listening to Katy Perry, still wearing last night’s mixer makeup, and writing out color-coded organic chemistry notes in pink and green. TSM.

Show me your knees. TSM.

Painting nails in the ER after sorority intramurals. TSM.

I’m more than “kind of a big deal.” TSM.

STD scares. TSM.

Pregaming by beer bonging wine. It’s classier in my eyes. TSM.

Living on a gum diet. TSM.

Spoke to my mom yesterday. Told her I was planning on doing some online retail therapy. She said she was too. She was starting to look for our third house. TSM.

Crystal Light and vodka. TSM.

MCAT test day; equipped with Sperrys, oversized Polo t-shirt, pearls, and a bow. TSM.

Honey, Darlin’, and Sugah. TSM.

Never posting GTL in a FB status. TSM.