“Fuck it. It’s period week.” TSM.

Loubs are red, Tiffany’s is blue, Starbucks is hot, and so are you. TSM.

No time for fuckboys. Plenty of time to fuck boys. TSTC.

Your parents being categorically unable to tell your sisters apart. TSTC.

People being able to figure out which sorority you’re in because “you have a look about you.” TSM.

“Sorry, I’m not dancing. The music doesn’t match my outfit.” TSM.

Being able to borrow a fake from anyone in your family, because your whole lineage looks alike. TSM.

“Why were we that drunk on a Monday?” TSM.

*Sneaks flask into bar via Marc Jacobs clutch.* TSM.

Getting the entire bar to sing “Courtesy of the Red, White, and Blue” to your boyfriend when he gets home from Afghanistan. TSM.