Is that really something a fifteen-year-old could expound upon knowledgeably? It seems unlikely. If he were that much of a big-ass prodigy, shouldn't he be interning for Stephen Hawking or something? Adam holds the hot pink balloon, saying, "I'm not seeing the giraffe." Try squinting. Joan: "Never mind. Two-for-one smoothies at the mall tonight. Who's in?" Friedman, to whom she was not speaking, turns around: "I'm in." Joan: "You're so not." Friedman swivels his head forward again. Adam: "I don't do the mall." Grace: "I've got Hebrew class." Joan, with her usual mixture of empathy, sensitivity and awareness of other people: "The bat mitzvah thing? Isn't that over?" Grace: "You'll know when it's over. There'll be a big, embarrassing party with rubber chicken and old Jews dancing to Donna Summer." Ha! We so need to see that. I think I'll plotz if they don't include that in the show. Joan stares ahead, and then asks Adam, "You're really not going to go with me?" Adam: "The mall gives me a rash, Jane." Sing it, brother. It gives me a migraine. On bad days, it gives me homicidal impulses. He continues, "The aesthetic is rude." That, too. Ms. Lischak suddenly comes by, handing out fliers and saying, "Listen up, my noble warriors: one week seminar starting today. Counts for two whole points on your final exam if you decide to partake. I advise you to partake." Grace reads the flier: "The Ancient Ritual of Cosmetology." Joan mutters, "What, like the zodiac? How's that science?" I don't know if it's got to do with the makeup plot, but there's an awful lot of pink -- especially hot pink -- in this episode. Particularly in this scene. The balloon's pink; the fliers are hot pink; Joan's wearing a pink shirt and a pink sweater; Lischak's wearing a pink shirt over a fuchsia T-shirt or sweater… Lischak explains: "Cosmetology. Face paint. Takes us all the way back to the Egyptians. What's more, it's the marriage of compounds to create colour and texture. It's chemistry, people!" Joan, quietly: "I don't get it." Adam: "It's makeup." Joan: "You mean like a makeup class?" Lischak whaps her pointer on a desk and says, "Let me see a show of hands." Glynis and Friedman's hands shoot up as Joan's eyes widen, realizing this is what Balloon "Artist" God was talking about. Her head drops to the desk as she raises her hand. You know, if this had aired much earlier, I don't think I would have believed that there could be a class about cosmetics in high school, but a few weeks ago, one of the women in my Strength & Stability class at the gym was talking about her teenage daughter's makeup class. I was rather incredulous, but apparently things have changed a lot since the olden days, when I was in school and they forced all kinds of stoopid book learnin' on us.