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.

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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

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You might be an athlete if you consider yourself a fan

When I was little, I was hardly what you would consider athletic.

Sure, I tried. I spent a brief career in softball, followed by soccer, then dance where I flopped around on stage like an uncoordinated noodle. These failed talents ultimately led me to my not-so-inevitable destiny as a basketball player, where I spent my time having coughing fits to avoid going out on the court and enjoying the cool gear I got more than the 7 a.m. practices.

Resurrected my “dancing career” for a sorority event. Guess who is standing out 10-feet taller than the others…

When I got to high school, I discovered that everyone had a niche, and performing on the court, field and stage just weren’t mine.

However, if being a fan was a sport, you better believe I’d be on a scholarship to some school in the SEC.

Dedication is driving 78 miles out of your way to go see the filming locations of your favorite TV show…like the River Court from One Tree Hill.

Over the years, my dedication transcended into different sports teams, different celebrities, different movies and different TV shows. I transitioned from fan to fangirl, which is a sport that I take very seriously.

As the true daughter of my father — the ultimate sports fanatic — I live out my genetics through yelling, which is a favorite action of mine as a fan. I’ve even borrowed some phrases over the years (“What are you waiting for, an invitation?!” and “You’re joking” are my favorites), which can be very versatile and applied to multiple situations.

I alternated between yelling and using binoculars to spy on the dugout at this game…

Just like in sports, being a fan has multiple facets to the game — and I’ve dabbled in every sector. I’ve been a dedicated fan, bandwagon fan, fairweather fan and super fan.

Whether it’s the Tampa Bay Rays, the UCF Knights, Batman (The Dark Knight series) or Glee, I’ve involved myself in them all. I’ve cheered, jeered and considered throwing in the towel (The 2008 almost-World-Series-winning season for the Rays and last Thursday’s episode of Glee to name a few instances.) I’ve seen strike outs and makeouts. I’ve rooted for players and characters. But most of all, I’ve stayed involved — and isn’t that one of the fundamentals of sports (or something) anyway?

LOL. No caption necessary.

I always heard the phrase “there’s no ‘i’ in team” in my short-lived time as an athlete. There is, however, an “i” in fangirl. And just like someone who plays tennis (which also has an “i” in it),┬áI┬átake the solo-sport of being a fan very seriously.

 

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.