Monday evening, my roommate and I had the fortune of attending a live taping of The Colbert Report. Before the show, Stephen Colbert teased us with a little Q&A session during which he stated he would answer “any question we could possibly think of.” Well, then.

The initial questions were pretty basic, barring the bawdy fanfic question that someone asked him (which in turn spawned this AMAZING post on his official website, clearly written by The Man Himself). So, after Monday’s show, I highly anticipated getting to see it again last night, as I had a second set of tickets and planned to take another friend. Yes, I admit to being a fangirl. This time, however, I knew I had to come up with a question for him. Thus, much of my week was spent in preparation and yesterday I finally arrived at the moment of truth. I came up with a killer question:

• “Stephen, as the ‘intelligent designer’ of Saturday Night Live’s Ambiguously Gay Duo, what are the first three questions you think Ace and Gary would have asked Harriet Miers at the Supreme Court confirmation hearing?”

So, I shopped the question around at work and got some fabulous laughs. A friend’s feedback consisted of how awesome it is to be “speculating on what the role of a fictional gay duo would be were they on the Senate judiciary committee.” I practiced my delivery and promised myself it was all or nothing - I had to ask. Fast-forward to the show. Stephen came out and spoke to the audience for a moment before asking for questions - no one was biting. Finally, I raised my hand.

…and totally botched the question. Mid-sentence, I accidentally said the “Incredibly Gay Duo,” at which point, Stephen asked me how Freudian this question was. The entire audience laughed at my expense. I smirked and threw back at him: “Well, you wrote it. And they were incredibly gay.” I continued my question after the banter and here is what he answered:

• “What do you think of these pumps?”
• “Will you hold my water bottle while I stretch?”

(At this point, after delivering the first two questions dryly, Stephen giggles, then doubles over laughing, catches his breath, and re-assumes character.)

• “Who do you think has better calves? Me or Gary?”

There you have it, folks. *I* made Stephen Colbert laugh.

Residing in New York City provides me with all the creature comforts I could ask for, like Fairway’s bakery and live tapings of the Colbert Report. I spend every day at the so-called center of the universe in Manhattan, in a five-by-six-foot cubicle on the fourteenth floor of a building that overlooks Madison Square Park. The remaining 60 hours that I’m not working or sleeping, I spend shuttling myself back and forth across the bridge to Brooklyn, taking the elevator to the gym on the fourth floor, or staring at my laptop/television/latest book. Sure, they say that one of the keys to happiness is making the best of your current situation - and I do. But I’m starting to feel the nagging itch of restlessness. I don’t know if this is symptomatic of the intense wanderlust that’s been bubbling just beneath my skin for a decade — or perhaps just having disposable discretionary income.

This morning, I read part of an alumni newsletter from the University of Chicago, which had a brief section on faculty-led “study trips.” Now, I would NEVER typically consider doing something so gauchely marketed - I’m sure most of the other muklukkers are former ScavHunt leaders. But upon closer inspection, I realized they are offering a trip to Antarctica with one of the foremost evolutionary paleobiologists(!).

Wow. Just earlier this week, I was daydreaming on the train (as I am prone to do), and decided that Antarctica is one of the places I must see before I die. Of course, there’s no way I can afford the trip at my current salary and current student loan repayment schedule. In an ensuing conversation, I asked the following question:

Is it possible for me to go back to school to get my Ph.D in EXPLORATION?

I vote we bring back the times of royally-funded exploration. Traversing the Silk Road to China. Mapping the coast of Tunisia. I am not even opposed to travelling in a potentially-dangerous land, people. BRING ON THE TERRORISTS!

Or… barring the ascension of royalty to the democratically-elected throne of the United States of In-My-Dreams, maybe I should get a job that is focused on travelling. And doing something productive. Journalism? International development? I am wont to write. Surely that would predispose me to some travelling.