In your career as a sorority girl, there are a few moments that really define you: the moment you get a bid, the moment you get a big (and let’s not forget about those littles), and the moment you get asked to a fraternity formal. Hell freaking yes! You got asked over all those other bitches he could have asked. Unfortunately, the happiness lasts only a few seconds before you realize what going to a frat formal means.
- You spend countless hours in the gym cursing all of the late night Taco Bell you just HAD to have.
- You hate yourself for not being able to fit into a size five–and, thus, having to shop at Sears.
- You see all the girls you hate who also managed to snag dates (cough, slut, cough).
- You’re pretty much obligated to have drunk, not-so-great sex with the guy because he spent more than $100 on you for this event.
But the worst thing about going to his formal? You have to spend days (weeks for the overachievers) painting this dumb-as-a-rock guy a cooler, which he will in no way appreciate.
Sure, he says thanks. But really–that’s it? THANKS? After the amount of times you went to Michael’s to pick up Modge Podge, paint pens, and search for your dignity? After the amount of days you didn’t go to happy hour just so you could perfect a portrait of him on a beach getting a blowie (or drinking a drink, whatever)? After the amount of tears you cried over the fact that you painted the Jets’ logo in mint green instead of a light forest green?
He just says, “Thanks.”
If you’ve been through this (and most of us have) you know the only way to cope is to sit on the floor hugging the work of art, chugging from the bottle, and shouting obscenities at the guy who will never contact you again after this weekend. Basically, this vine sums it up.