Getting “I accidentally slept with my ex last night…three times” drunk. TSM.

Losing the freshman fifteen without ever gaining it. TSM.

Starting your spring dress collection in January. TSM.

Fuck shit up with my pinky up. It’s classy. TSM.

“He’s not the cutest, but he’s sweet.” NS. “He’s kind of an asshole, but he’s hot.” TSM.

The mini heart attack you have when you get a tagged photo notification. TSM.

Turning “The Study Room” into “The Craft Room.” TSM.

The break-up diet: Diet Coke and vodka. TSM.

Don’t open your legs for a boy who won’t open the door. TSM.

Coffee for lunch. TSM.