There aren't any treehouses at MIT, but even so, I had a the greatest group of best girlfriends in the most exclusive "Boys Not Allowed" club.

We called ourselves the "Barracudas," a sort of tribute to the kinds of girls that would attend an engineering and science college. The kind of girls that weren't afraid of sitting in a classes where there were more people with blue hair than women. The kinds of girls who weren't afraid to be better than the boys at math, baking, or a game of Halo.

We had a theme song. We had motto ("Spite, Gossip, Brunch, and Revenge!"). We had months long competitions of skill and stamina. We had late night sessions screaming 80s hits at the top of our lungs (Barracuda Rule #18: Make Jon Bon Jovi proud.)

There was a plan for all of us to get a representative tattoo, and I was elected to design it. Here you see the result of a lot of thought. We've yet put ink to flesh since we all live on parts of the country now, but one day...

I'll always remember our inaugural tautology: "Nearly every fish is the Natural Prey of the FierceSome Barracuda."