Joan's working on the boat -- which now seems to feature bits of those corrugated, aqua-coloured pool fencing as siding. It doesn't seem to be going very well, though, and she's pacing around holding her head in her hands. You know, it makes me inordinately happy that Amber Tamblyn has a bit of booty on her. I hope she doesn't get thinner and thinner as she gets more and more famous, like almost every other young female star, so many of whom start out looking incredibly attractive and become more and more pinched-looking and cadaverous with each passing year. I have no problem with anyone who's naturally very tiny or thin; it's the dramatic transformations under the pressure of public scrutiny that are scary. Portia de Rossi, Courteney Cox Arquette, Paula Devicq and Christina Ricci -- the list goes on -- I'm looking at you. I think Amber's gorgeous the way she is. Someone calls out, "Jane?" She sighs: "Go away, Adam!" He comes in anyway, asking how she knew it was him. She tells him he's the only one who calls her "Jane." It might have occurred to him to wonder about that, except that he's caught sight of the boat and says, "Aw...man! That's awesome!" I knew he'd be impressed. Joan says, "It's gone!" Adam wonders what's gone. She says she did all this with no plans: "I just cut pieces of wood, and they fit...together!" Adam: "You lost your mojo." She says softly, "Yeah, maybe Mr. Price is right." Hee.

Adam is concerned: "Wait, Jane, you talked to Price?" She confirms this. Adam: "Mr. Price at school?" Joan (almost typed "Jane" there): "Try and keep up, Adam." Adam asks if she told him about her boat. She admits she did. Adam says that the first day of high school, he had to talk to Price, and Price asked Adam to tell him about himself: "And I don't know any better, so I try to impress him with my best talent." Joan turns around, interested: "Which is?" Adam says he can play any instrument. Damn, that'd be a good talent to have. A lot more impressive than, say, a knack for painting your living room the wrong colour again and again and again. Purely hypothetical example. Joan's a bit skeptical: "You can?" Adam says he can't, not anymore. Price sat him down at a piano and said, "Okay, Mozart, play." And he played, and really put himself into it: "I'm holding down that loud pedal, and I'm hitting the low notes with my elbow -- Bong! Bong! Bong!" Joan permits herself a wee smile. Adam says, "Grand finale, I lift the piano lid thing, and I strum the strings with my shoe." Joan smiles and almost laughs. When Adam was finished, Price said, "You've got to be kidding me." He concludes, "Since then, I can't play a thing. I can't even whistle." Joan replies, "I'm no expert, but if you were playing with your elbow..." Adam shrugs and wanders around the boat, saying, "Yeah, Price...somewhere he's got this, like, coffin full of miraculous things kids used to be able to do before he stole it from them." Frink: "Then he must be a guidance counsellor at heart." Adam hesitates and adds, "Like your beautiful boat." He glances at Joan, who just looks troubled. He barely waves and leaves. I love Adam.