Recruitment is my favorite holiday. TSM.
Recruitment is my favorite holiday. TSM.
The sole purpose of my father’s natural gas wells in Wyoming are to underwrite my ability to purchase and show six figure horses. TSM.
Campaigning for recruitment chair while current recruitment is still in process. TSM.
Leaving the movies early because of the Victoria’s Secret semi-annual sale. TSM.
Gradually spraining your wrist over the course of a week because of the angle you painted your date’s cooler in. TSM.
Your sorority’s national president following you on Twitter. TSM.
Drunk eating salad. TSM.
Summer crafting for the grand-big: a gentle reminder that she needs to keep spoiling me. TSM.
Getting woken up by your VP of social standards passed out in your bathroom covered in your own vomit. TSM.
Mailing your little a recruitment survival package because you’re studying abroad. TSM.
Laughing when the youngest pledge class asks when they get to eat lunch during recruitment. TSM.
Worrying more about the world wine shortage than you ever did about The “end of the world” threats. TSM.
Doing something so bad that your sorority has to create a new fine for it. TSM.
Passively aggressively not liking your fwb when he poses in pictures with other girls. TSM.
Just refused to sign the honor code without an attorney present. TSM.
Brushing two nights of sex knots out of my sorority sister’s hair. TSM.
Never, ever having those gross white acrylic nail tips. TSM.
My dad bought a pair of $700 black ostrich boots to wear to my debutante ball. TSM.
Other Greek organizations waiting to see who you pick to go to Greek week with before they can make their decisions. TSM.
There are no holiday breaks when you’re working on your diamond diploma. TSM.