I'm back from Florida!

My first day there was beach perfection. Jamie and I relaxed on the sand, read a little bit, dozed off in the sun. And then ... I had to pee.

I asked the nice lady at the lifeguard station if there were public restrooms on the beach. She pointed to another lifeguard hut in the distance and said it's near that. I walked and walked through the sand, making the journey in just my bikini and flip-flops, and couldn't find a restroom anywhere.

An old man was walking the same direction as me, so I stopped him and asked if he knew of any nearby restroom.

He pointed straight ahead.

"It's a couple blocks that way, then you'll see it."

I walked a couple blocks and saw no sign of a restroom.

The guy was still walking my direction, so I stopped him again.

"Keep going," he said. "You'll see it."

I continued walking. But after a bit, my flesh was burning in the sun, I needed water, and I was very far away from where I had started. Oh, and I still had to pee.

"Where the heck is this restroom?" I said to the guy.

"Keep walking about 10 or 15 more minutes, then you'll come to a restaurant and you can use their bathroom."

Dude, no. I was in a sweaty bikini. I wasn't about to walk through some random restaurant while people were having lunch.

So ... welcome to my toilet:



It was my first time peeing in the ocean, and I was a little nervous and disturbed by it, but I'm told people do it all the time.

A couple of my friends tried to explain that the ocean is nature's bathroom.

"Whales poop there,' they said.

Yeah. But whales don't have any other options.

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