You might be a perpetual sorority girl if you go Greek in college

I have a confession: I am a chronic sorority girl.

Recently I wrote an article for USA TODAY College addressing four common misconceptions of Greek life, and since it was published the response has been phenomenal. I love seeing members from varying chapters comment on the incredible experience we all get to share.

My bid day...we were babies!

My bid day…we were babies!

One point was brought up by a few readers that did not go unnoticed. Several people commented on my by-line, which states that I am “a retired sorority girl” and I wanted to offer some clarity.

My sorority will always be a part of who I am. It shaped my college experience and helped me become who I am as a person. At 22 I’m still concerned about the well-being of my sisters, still invested in multiple charities Greek organizations support and still rock a bow in my hair from time-to-time (old habits die hard).

The bigger the bow the better!

The bigger the bow the better, obviously.

When you retire from your career, you no longer participate in the day-to-day activities of your job. Gone are the days of answering phones and work emails. Your interactions with clients disappear and analyzing the latest earnings report is left to someone else. You trade your water cooler days with your colleagues for days catching up over lunch and volunteering at the company’s charity golf event.

As much as I’m still learning to accept it (and not willingly), I look at my time in Greek life in the same way. While I am no longer an active sister, I am still involved in some other way. Instead of monitoring GPA’s and Twitter accounts (former Scholarship Chairs and Communications Directors, holler!) I’m admiring others’ work from afar. I’m going to Founders Days instead of running them. And I’m a member of the alumni chapter rather than the collegiate one. I am retired.

Only being a year out of college, I still yearn for big/little week, socials and sisterhood events. But I can’t participate in those anymore (they won’t let me on the bus). I can’t participate in those little things that help to make a whole experience.

At our last philanthropy event.

At our last philanthropy event.

I'm a SUPER grandma!

I’m a SUPER grandma!

I still wear my letters proudly, and I always will. As Greek life constantly reminded me, “you are always wearing your letters” and I see that as a blessing. “Retired” or not, they’re there, right where I want them to be.

I am a Kappa Alpha Theta, and more importantly, a member of the Greek community — and that’s something that won’t ever change.


Welcome to all my new blog readers, and thank you for stopping by! Head back for more post-grad rambles and pop culture commentary as I navigate this thing called “being an adult.” ­čÖé


You might be bad at crafting if your go-to supply is puffy paint

It’s Big/Little time in sorority land, a world that seems like lifetimes ago and yesterday all at the same time. My three years I spent in Greek Life were some of my best memories in college. These organizations, burdened with stereotypes, are more than what they’re notorious for.

However, one way sororities do (sort of) fulfill their generalizations is Big/Little. Known for being a week covered in glitter and hot glue, this tradition is the core of sorority life. And even though I’m graduated, the only tangible sign of my membership being the composites hanging in the foyer, I still find myself getting wrapped up in the “YBM”* of it all. Especially this week as girls meticulously make bulletin boards and flower pots for their new little sisters.

This part of Big/Little — the excessive crafting — is where I defy the laws of sorority girls. I am completely hopeless when it comes to anything artistic.

So, in honor of Big/Little week and in celebration of my ineptitude, I have decided to visit the top 5 reasons why I am gloriously bad at crafting:

5. My favorite color is pink

Obviously not crafted by me…it’s too good
(Image via Google)

If it isn’t pink, my motivation to craft it drops at least 40%.

4. I’m tall

A head above the rest!

This really has nothing to do with my lack of abilities as an artist. I just use it as an excuse for most things that require coordination.

3. I can be impatient

Spots on my ceiling after painting the wall behind my bed. It’s “art”!

If someone can explain to me why I have no issues with messing up my nails as they dry, but somehow end up smearing paint on every part of the canvas that is NOT supposed to be blue, pink or yellow, I’m all ears.

2. I always favored a notebook over a sketchbook

Harriet: My idol as a 7-year-old and also the most boss reporter
(Image via Google)

When I was younger, I didn’t really like art class because I preferred to be writing in a notebook rather than drawing in it. ┬áMy nickname from my Dad growing up was Doodle. I’m not entirely sure why, but I don’t think it had anything to do with my artistic abilities. In fact, I think it was life’s (or my Dad’s) way of being ironic.

1. My go-to crafting tool is puffy paint

That design on the side? Totally resembles Picasso (said no one ever).

As my Little has pointed out (numerous) times, nothing good comes out of puffy paint. Her pillowcase is a prime example. During my Big/Little week, one of the “gifts” we gave to the new Littles was a pillowcase — and this gem is a result of my work after trying to fix a puffy paint fiasco.┬áThis craft has become notorious in our circle of friends, mainly because my Little likes to lovingly make fun of it every chance she gets.

Lesson learned.

*YBM = An acronym used in my sorority that has special meaning behind it.