Before I present you my never-ending list of materialistic desires, I’d like to take this time to say thank you for making sure I’ve gotten everything on my list, and then some, for the past twenty one Christmases. You’re like, the ULTIMATE frat star. I mean, you sit around growing a gut and facial hair 364 days a year while you watch those GDI elves work for you and get drunk off of eggnog. TFM. Anyway Santa, I’m totally on the nice list this year, I promise. Since I’m in a sorority, I do like, SO much philanthropy. I always drop my spare change in the other chapters’ fundraiser cups (and not just because I really hate carrying change because it makes me weigh more). I even washed cars in a bikini for all of frat row to see when it was a COLD 72 degrees! I don’t know about you Santa, but that’s what I call charity.
I let my roommate borrow my clothes, because my wardrobe is ten times more awesome than hers (thanks to you), even though she constantly stretches out my leggings. I could have told her that her post-breakup canned-frosting-via-spoon diet was not a good look, and that maybe if she considered reintroducing her fat ass to the treadmill her ex-fratdaddy’s eyes wouldn’t have wandered, but I didn’t Santa…because I’m so nice.
Also, last spring I was totally really nice to the new babies even though I actually couldn’t care less about any of them but my little. And don’t even get me started on how much I spoiled her. I even forgave my boyfriend for cheating on me at that mixer and regularly resist punching the other girl in the face when I see her. Classy girls win without fighting, and pretty girls (me) automatically win for being prettier. Everyone knows that.
Lastly, I actually volunteered to be sober…AT CRUSH PARTY. As if being sober during the most belligerently epic shitshow of the semester wasn’t enough, I literally subjected the back seat of my X5 to other people’s crying, vomiting, and MOing in the name of sisterhood. Who does that? Nice girls, that’s who. All those good deeds have surely cancelled out the occasional late-night transgressions that I’m sure you are willing to overlook. So Santa, have we come to an understanding? Good. I thought you’d see it my way. Everyone does.
On my list this Christmas are the basic staples: a new purse (acceptable designers include but are not limited to: Marc Jacobs, Michael Kors, Chanel, Tory, and Longchamp), new jewelry (acceptable designers include and ARE limited to Yurman and Tiffany), and a new wardrobe which includes both above and below the knee boots, leather and suede, one each in black and in brown. One of each print of Lilly scarves will do as well. And of course, as always, feel free to add in plenty of surprises. I like to know you really are paying attention to me year round.
Now that that’s out of the way, I have a couple of special requests this year. Spring recruitment is coming up Santa, and I need the most AMAZING grandlittle. I’m seriously confused about how anyone can compare to how perfect my little is (since she’s pretty much exactly the same as me). Santa, bring me a girl who fits in. She has to be gorgeous and brunette, with straight A’s and the ability to funnel two Natty Lights in under two minutes while simultaneously manipulating her long list of fratdaddies. Otherwise she just won’t fit in.
Last but not least Santa, I think I’m ready to commit. I’m in the second half of college now, and I think I should start doing that “settling down” thing. It gets exhausting juggling frat-slams, and I can’t seem to find the perfect guy. All I’m asking for is a guy in an top-tier fraternity who is successful, sweet and fun, but who won’t piss the bed, binge drink to the point of whiskey dick, or have multiple girlfriends. I want someone who will wine me, dine me, and buy me things without being too clingy and annoying. And Santa, maybe once in a while he can make his own damn sandwiches. Is that too much to ask?
Until next year,