When Ann Hyman began her career as a house director in the fall of 2006, she couldn't wait to see if sorority girls still painted each other's nails, traded clothes, and made pacts not to date sisters' old boyfriends. She was thrilled to find those traditions still existed. She was impressed by the women of the chapter. Many carried full class loads, worked multiple jobs, held campus offices and competed on collegiate athletic teams while maintaining one of the highest grade point averages on campus. This house was filled with beauty queens, study geeks, social butterflies, jocks, fraternity sweethearts, dance team members and everything in between. Without membership in this sorority, they might never have met. Yet, they became true sisters in every sense of the word. Study groups congregated throughout the building, "Tudor" marathons ran in the TV room, shouts of "Fins UP " announced the beginning of "Shark Week," tiny bikini-clad beauties sunned themselves on the patio, and giggles mingled with music filled the air. Food Nazis demanded no nitrates, nitrites, GMO's or other additives in their foods, but scarfed down French fries and multiple pieces of dessert with no socially-redeeming value. But this was also a sorority where in an effort to empower the women, the national organization's policy was for each chapter's members to set and enforce their own rules, which resulted in no rules at all. Ann found herself in the middle of a female version of "Animal House," where she had a contractual obligation to keep the girls safe, but no authority to do so. Kegs iced in bathtubs, boxer shorts regularly hung out windows or adorned lampshades in the date room, liquor bottles were recycled, and when she asked the risk management chairman if she wanted to know if a guy spent the night, the response was, "Why? Has someone complained?" Every day was filled with laughter, excitement and joy interspersed with multiple building floods, a fire, constant conflict with ego-driven chefs, occasional moments of terror and chaos along with plenty of drama. But in the early morning hours of December 7, 2007, she was slugged by a drunk collegiate athlete. In an instant she realized living with 65 college girls wasn't as glamorous as she thought it would be. Diary of a Sorority House Mom is the tale of Ann Hyman's two-year initiation into the very strange life of a sorority house mom. It will make you laugh, cry, and might occasionally disturb and disgust you. But for Ann, it was the ride of her life and for the most part, she wouldn't change a thing. Whether you are a sorority alumnae, current collegian, or just looking for a fun read about sorority life as an American icon, this is the book for you.