Starbucks is love

Today, I ordered my usual at the Starbucks in the library. (Yes, there's a Starbucks in the library, just a few measly steps from my dorm room.)

Sometimes I get this legitimately strong urge to lie when they ask my name, I don't know why, probably because I'm immature. I mean, it's not like I don't like my own name. I love my name. Elizabeth. It just sounds so classy. I have many nick-names however. Most of them, I don't like. I went by Betty from kindergarten until sixth grade. In sixth grade, someone randomly started calling me Beth and it stuck. Now I'm a freshman in college, and I'm really starting to loathe it. To the new people I met up here in Albuquerque, I introduced myself as Elizabeth. A few new friends have started calling me a name I might actually consider liking: Liz. The new friends complain: "Elizabeth? It's too long." And to that, my friends, I respond, "That's what she said."

Today, I said my name was Beatrice. To my surprise, I overcame my horrible acting skills and kept a straight face. The barista even asked how to spell it, and I responded, "B-E-A-T-R-I-C-E" with no hesitation whatsoever. I almost believed myself when I said the lie. Maybe I should drop the Journalism and move to Los Angeles and become an actress. (By the way, is actress even PC anymore? Has it changed to actor?)

Anyway, here's the evidence of my delinquency:

Have a nice night, everyone!