You got really tan this summer, and people are most likely going to tell you how tan you look.
That senior you hate fiiiiiiinally graduated. Or dropped out. Or got pregnant. Whatever, she’s gone. #ByeFelicia
Hello littles, g-littles, and new family offspring.
This year you’re going to get a boyfriend.
This year you’re going to get over your ex-boyfriend.
Or under him. One or the other.
Remember how you worked out all summer so you’d have abs come fall? It’s almost fall. And you have abs.
Remember how you said you were going to work out all summer so you’d have abs come fall? It’s almost fall. And you don’t have abs but, like, let’s be real. It wasn’t going to happen anyway.
Less humidity means your hair actually stays straight for more than 30 seconds.
You get to trade in your rain boots for Uggs (or fake Uggs. Thanks, Mom).
What’s that delicious tasting thing right around the corner? Oh, right. Pumpkin spice everything will be here before your deprived taste buds know it.
Goodbye sweating your ass off the second you walk outside.
Your trench coat that you will seductively wear without clothes underneath–just knock on your hookup’s door and be like “hey,” while taking off your coat and watching his jaw drop.
Okay, you’ll never do that, but it’s the thought that counts.
As the days get colder, your leg hair gets to be longer.
Bid Day is basically upon us.
Two words: social season.
Football means you get to have girls’ nights nonstop while your boyfriend is endlessly entertained by giant men who throw balls into baskets or whatever.
Also, he’s so busy watching sports highlights when you’re at bars that he totally won’t do that obvious “I’m casually looking in that direction while actually checking out the girl with the skanky dress” thing.
So long, short shorts that make your non-thigh gap legs rub together and basically give you diaper rash.
You can start putting together a general list of boys for potential semi-formal dates.
Hello, beautiful tradition called tailgating, where you wear a sundress and steal alcohol from as many frat houses as possible until you pass out and avoid the football game altogether.
Leggings. You can wear leggings even more than you already do.
Time to start planning the perfect Halloween costume. I’m thinking sexy cat, sexy nurse, or an “ex-wife.”
Smell ya later, curfew.
Remember how your parents used you being home as an excuse to get as many chores milked out of you as possible? Yeah. Being your parents’ slave is officially o-v-e-r.
You can spend the night wherever you want, no judgment.
You can have anyone you want spend the night at your place, no judgment.
You can decide to not go to bed at all, no judgment.
Or, my personal favorite, you can lie in bed all day, watch Netflix, and literally not see sunlight, no judgment.
After weeks of planning your perfect schedule, you finally get to experience the true joy of having no Friday classes and yoga actually counting toward your major.
Sometimes, Facebook stalking isn’t enough when you long to have your little in your arms again.
Fried food that’s ready for you right down the hall, the second you roll out of bed at noon. You’re hungover and in dire need of chicken fingers.
You might have a hot professor. You also might have an illicit student-teacher affair with him.
Or not. Whatever–a horny sorority girl can dream. (P.S.: I will always love you, theater professor.)
You have a first class gym literally in walking distance, despite the fact that most days, you’ll be too hungover to go.
Seeing freshmen walk around with cargo shorts and lanyards around their necks.
You have friends who will do literally anything with you: shop, work out, tan, study, explore frat houses, make horrible decisions, etc., etc.
You get presents from your big, little, secret sister, senior sister, and so on, because, like, hi.
For those of us over 21, we get to consume alcohol to our heart’s delights (and liver’s dislike) without our parents shooting us concerned looks.
Like, sorry I threw up at Grandma’s house after my cousin’s middle school graduation party. I just wanted to liven things up.
And for those of you under 21, you finally get to drink alcohol to your heart’s content without your parents waiting up for you to give you the classic “we know what you did” look of disgust.
You can skip class and go to the pool when you “can’t even.”
You get to obsess over pointless drama. Why didn’t the guy I met at the bar text me yet? Who the fuck is that girl, and why did she just say hi to my kind-of-sort-of-on-Wednesdays-if-he’s-not-busy-boyfriend?
You don’t even really have to go to the first week of classes, so it’s pretty much like an extra week of summer.
You and your Lilly planner have been waiting all summer to color code the shit out of your days.
Not to mention, throwing in the occasional sticker when you feel really wild.
I think someone said you have a good shot at homecoming queen this year.
Aspiring to be the next Tina Fey, Rachel spends her free time doing nothing to reach that goal. While judging people based on how they use "they're" vs. "there" on social media, she likes eating buffalo chicken dip, watching other people's Netflix, and wearing sweatpants way more than is socially acceptable.