I’m not shallow. I just have impossibly high standards. TSM.

Too Sassy To Care. TSM.

Not having to wear letters for everyone on campus to know which sorority you’re in. TSM.

Being everyone’s favorite bad influence. TSTC.

“If you hate her, so do we.” TSM.

“What was his name?”
“Uh good question, what was his name?” TSM.

Drunk me is such a bitch. TSM.

Having FOMO even when you were there, because you blacked out. TSM.

Planning out your “candid” photos. TSM.

Your sorority teaching you more than any class ever could. TSM.