I'm sure D.C. isn't all that tricky when you live there or have spent a nice chunk of time there, but for someone like me - shall we say, "compass-ly deficient" - it was a nightmare.

A good friend told me that the roads are designed in such a way to make it difficult for an invading army to reach the Capitol. I don't know if that's true, but it's totally awesome, so I'm going to go with it. Surprisingly, I took no solace in this intriguing fact as I drove aimlessly around looking for Rhode Island Avenue NW or Massachusetts Avenue SE.

I do however know the alphabet and how to count. So the grid part of the city wasn't so bad. I could get from P and 17th to U and 11th, no problem. But when you start throwing in so many diagonal streets, some traffic circles (sorry, U.K., "roundabouts"), and state names that don't seem to go in any discernable order - yeah, its official, I'm lost.

It would have been neat if they had the state avenues in order of their addition into the union (hey hey, history lesson!) - or alphabetical - or ANYTHING other than totally random. The only real pattern I could find is that New York and New Jersey intersect at some point. Just like real life!

Other things I've learned while studying the map are that Montana and West Virginia are not near one another; neither are Massachusetts and Louisiana. YET, you'll find a very lovely train terminal called Union Station at the intersection of the latter.

Luckily, we had a local production assistant and a GPS unit to get us around our shoot. However, the morning after our final shoot day, I was on my own. Instead of flying with all of our gear, I figured it'd be easier to just drive from - and back to - New York. After all, Google told me it's only four hours. Not so with Mini Magellan at the steering wheel. It took me two hours to get out of the city. Don't ask how, because I don't remember. All I know is I passed the same liquor store three times before figuring out that circular isn't the fastest way to Maryland, and subsequently Delaware and Jersey. Even if those states converge by the Library of Congress.

Grab the Twizzlers, some '80s mix CDs and an atlas! It's time to hit the road.

OK, it's a little different than the road trips from college, being that a television hostess sat shotgun (Twizzlers still remain, however).

But here we are, after packing up our rented SUV (camera equipment on top, obviously), getting ready for our five-hour trek north. Packing for this one was no easy feat - we had to be prepared for the ski mountain in New Hampshire, which was to be immediately followed by the beaches of Cabo, and the happening nightlife of Vegas. It's fair to say that the majority of my closet was shoved into a suitcase.

I'll be honest - I was a little bit concerned when we received the list of destinations and I saw New Hampshire/Maine on it. Not because it's not a cool place to visit (in fact, it's one of my favorite parts of the country), but because I thought it'd have a difficult time keeping up with the more traditional vacation destinations you'll be seeing on the series: Miami, San Francisco, Hawaii.

Those concerns ended up being unfounded - we had an awesome time filming all the hidden spots our neighbors to the northeast had in store for us, despite our producer Ginny have a vicious case of vertigo/nausea/the spins/dizziness. There were good times had around every corner - from our gorgeous hotel to Pat's Peak, from Flo's Hot Dogs to Jumpin' Jay's Fish Cafe - and I can't wait to take another road trip up 95 -- this time for leisure, although it's hardly fair to call this job "WORK."

Even before pre-production began, I could have told you that Cabo looks different through a camera lens than it does through the haze of Spring Break.

I had been to Cabo San Lucas three times before filming our episode. It's a place that's easy to fall in love with, and when you get the chance to show it off to your college chums, you do it. But more than seven years had passed between my last visit and escorting Ms. Brown.

It's admittedly amazing how much that part of the world has changed (there's actually a MALL in town now), but what really struck me was how much more towns like that have to offer - other than beaches, bars, and beautiful people. To be fair, we saw our fair share of all three, but I also discovered some things that may not be on most vacationers' radar.

For many, a weekend on the beach would consist of waking up late, stumbling to the sand, ordering a daiquiri or six, eating at a fancy restaurant at the resort, listening to technofied versions of '80s pop songs at the cookie-cutter watering hole/neon-lined club, and stumbling back to bed. Then, repeat as needed.

For this show, however, we were interested in showing this destination (and all the others) as a place that's not only good for the weekend warrior in need of a recharge, but also for the adventurous bunch that's not afraid to find the gems that may be hidden a bit off the main drag.

There are miles of beaches along The Corridor (the stretch of utopia between Cabo San Lucas and San Jose del Cabo), but if you keep your eyes peeled, you'll be able to spot some intimate spans. You may even unearth a small beach tucked within the rocky coastline that no one else has found yet that day.

In the States, we're all familiar with the ice cream man. On hot summer days, kids whose ears are properly tuned to that catchy jingle can hear him coming from the next neighborhood. Well, in Cabo, we were lucky enough to spend a few minutes with "The Coconut Man" - that's what we dubbed him, since we didn't really catch his name. He parks his pickup - full of freshly picked coconuts - on the most amazing lookout point over a surfer's paradise and, for a few pesos, hacks the ends off of a coconut and adds a straw. Not only was the view from his "office" a sight to see, but the diversity of his customers was, as well. A crew of bikers, a lot of locals and a handful of tourists all lined up for the same simple delicacy.

I'll leave you with this insight: Never had I woken up in the morning (okay, afternoon) in Cabo San Lucas and thought to myself, "hey, let's go soaring 300 feet above the desert through a canyon!" but chances are good that I will from now on.