Walking home in the rain, Joan passes a young woman, sitting on a park bench under a spotted umbrella…and knitting. Should I take anything from the fact that it's often hard to distinguish God from a mental patient? Knitting God (played by Shelly Cole, Madeline Lynn of Gilmore Girls) is wearing a vest that looks crocheted but is apparently knitted, according to the sort of folks who know about these things and post about them online. She comments as Joan walks behind her: "Awesome pattern, don't you think, Joan?" As long as we're not talking about the one on your vest, which is riding the Retro 101 bus to Funky Station but got off two stops early at the corner of Vintage and Fugly. Joan: "God knits?" Knitting God: "It's a great way to centre yourself when you have to pass the time alone." And my question would be: "God has a lot of free time on her hands?" Joan: "Oh. Subtle reminder that I don't have a boyfriend anymore." She sits down on the wet bench. "Cute. So you want me to be spinster Joan…knitting her way to the grave." Oy. So many times, despite the fact that God is talking to her, Joan can hardly see beyond the end of her own nose. In the first season she was all desperate for a boyfriend; I hope we're not returning to that. Also, get over yourself. You're seventeen, not seventy. Knitting God claims, "Knitting is the new yoga. Very meditative. I knitted this top." Joan's impressed: "No. That is seriously nice. But you're God. I could never do that." Both God and Joan are wearing striped knee socks. Knitting God: "You used to love knitting, remember? When you were eight and reading those Little House on the Prairie books?" When she says "Little House on the Prairie books" she stretches her mouth in this weird way as if to register mild aversion. Stow it, Knitting God. Joan says she tried to make a scarf (heh -- I guess it started early on) but she just made a knotty mess of it. I can certainly relate. In my early attempts at knitting, which mostly consisted of trying to knit things for my Barbie dolls, the tension kept getting tighter and tighter until I eventually couldn't move the yarn at all without breaking it. I am just wound too tight for anything like knitting. Knitting God tells her she can't put too much tension on the arm: "You have to relax, get into the groove." Joan: "I'd look like a total dork knitting. No offense." Not as much of a dork as you look like getting your ass soaked on this park bench. Knitting God cuts to the chase: "You have important work ahead of you. It requires focus and understanding." Joan: "What work?" Of course, just then, the bus comes along and Knitting God takes the opportunity to avoid the question, telling her, "Finish the scarf, Joan," as she boards the bus. Because if there is one thing Joan Girardi needs, it's another scarf. Joan: "But I don't even know where it is anymore!" The bus drives off.