Alexandra Vaillancourt

Do you like people watching? Do you have an hour to spare? If so, come on down to the Boylston Street Starbucks in Boston, Massachusetts. You’re guaranteed a great show, all for the price of a Venti whatever and a delicious pastry!

Last weekend I went shopping for a bathing suit, and came out of two stores with two pairs of sneakers. With the exception of the bathtub, I visit a body of water about once every five years. I prefer a swimming pool. It’s contained, calm, and chlorinated. It’s also a step up from the fire hydrants I played in as a child in Brooklyn, New York. No swimsuit required, just a tee shirt and cut-off shorts. But I digress.

I have a problem with self-edit; meaning, I have none. None. If a thought comes to my brain, it comes straight out of my mouth. When God was passing out verbal filters, he must have run out when it was my turn.

Spoiler alert! I saw the movie Tyson last weekend, and I’m going to discuss it in detail. If you don’t want to know what happens because you’re going to see it, search under my name and read some of my other essays.

Can we talk? I mean, really talk? Not about the weather, or what you did last weekend, or who just got voted off American Idol. I want to talk to you about poop. Cat poop.

I went to the circus today. I’ve been going to this particular circus with my preschool for the past 12 years. It’s a great show; very intimate. There’s only one ring, so you can always see the action. The only animals they have are horses and dogs that are rescued from animal shelters. Most of the acts focus on acrobatic stunts and clown pratfalls.

The last time I saw my dental hygienist for my bi-annual cleaning, I got a little bonus—a visit from The Dentist himself. Seemed that one of the fillings I got as a child needed to be replaced. The filling was cracked all the way up my tooth, and couldn’t just be replaced with another filling. Dr. P. said I would need something called an onlay, which is like a filling, except it covers the whole surface of the tooth.

[Editor’s Note: Due to technical difficulties, Ms. Campbell’s Friday essay is being presented today in full. Her next essay will appear this coming Friday.]

Last weekend, I stayed overnight with my best friend from college.

Our friendship began with a phone call during the first week of school.

I have a terrible sense of direction; I couldn’t find my way out of a paper bag.

I grew up in New York City, where the streets are mapped out on a grid. When I’m in New York, I step out of the subway station and start walking. If I need to go uptown and the street numbers are getting bigger, I know I’m going the right way. If not, I just turn around.