On the first commercial break, I learn that American commercials for the Kia Sportage pronounced the car's name "sport-ej" whereas the Canadian ones go for "sport-azh." So are we pretentious, or are Americans oafs? I guess it doesn't have to be either/or.

It's a lovely sunny day all of a sudden. Joan's sitting on her porch struggling with her knitting. I say "'all of a sudden" because she's wearing the same dress but a different jacket than she was wearing the first scenes. She regards her hole-y work (hee) with dismay: "What next? I have to make my own car?" Suddenly Grace is standing before her, wondering aloud, "Do you need to be medicated?" Joan says she doesn't: "I'm just knitting. It's very hip right now, very meditative. Damn." Grace mutters, "Looks fun. I gotta try it sometime…when I'm a hundred." She sits down next to Joan: "Look, I came by to cut you in on something: I hate my life." Joan: "Why?" Grace: "Well, let's see: Iraq, corporate corruption, and you and Rove." She pronounces "Iraq" the way George Bush does: "eye-rack," except she doesn't emphasize the second syllable. No. Grace would know better. Joan says it's just awkward to be around Adam, and complains about Adam coming up and expecting her to be all excited about his big promotion: "What does he expect?" Grace reminds her, "I came to talk about me…" Joan: "He's very needy. I know he's artistic and sensitive and everything, but you can use that to, you know, manipulate people. Just like he used you --" Grace gets up: "You know, I won't do this." Joan acts like she doesn’t know what she's talking about. Grace: "I won't talk trash about Rove. We've been friends since the second grade." Joan: "I can't believe you're taking his side! He slept with Bonnie while he was still with me!" Grace: "I'm not taking anybody's side! Don't you get it? I don't want there to be sides! Maybe we should all break up!" She storms off. Joan rips out all her knitting.