You might think she’s a bitch, but I think she’s just being honest. TSM.

It’s a crafterpiece. TSM.

Changing the lyrics to “My little, my little.” TSM.

Red lips. Black dress. TSM.

Spending finals week “studying” at the bars. TSM.

By “studying,” I mean visiting the magic cabinet of old tests and course work. TSM.

Being a trophy girlfriend. TSM.

Dressing up like Cinderella, only to lose your shoe. TSM.

Pledge sister group texts existing long after you graduate. TSM.

Last minute flirting with the only guy in class who knows what class we’re taking. TSM.