Saying “haze” in a sorority is like saying “bomb” in an airport. TSM.

My Littles refer to my boyfriend as Mr. Big. TSM.

Maybe America runs on Dunkin’ but sororities run on Starbucks. TSM.

It’s fine, I’m not wearing letters. TSM.

Far too many of my stories begin with “so apparently I…” TSM.

My heroes wear dog tags, not capes. TSM.

Carrie in the closet, Charlotte on the streets, Miranda in the classroom, Samantha in the sheets. TSM.