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The Planet — Kit and Mange are hanging out. Bette shows up with her new purchases from The Bodhi Tree and shares her news about the NEA grant. Kit says "that's so fucked up," but she doesn't really seem to care much, probably because of the proximity of Mange. Bette mentions that she's thinking about taking some Citibank job, but Mange says she shouldn't even consider taking a job that doesn't make her heart sing. Hello? Do you live on this planet, or one where everyone likes to say hello to cars and trees and nobody's ever heard of a razor?

One of Bette's purchases is a Pema Chödrön book, Comfortable with Uncertainty. I haven't read that one, but I can recommend When Things Fall Apart — which, despite its title, is a hell of a lot less depressing than this show.

The house of awkward — Moira is moving bags around and calling Shane "buddy." As soon as Moira is out of earshot, Carmen starts to whine about having an extra roommate all of a sudden, and about the idea of Moira going to dinner with the gang. Never mind that fine booty: I've gone off you, Carmen the Intolerant.

Moira interrupts to offer them a present from La Junta, CO (which she pronounces as La Joonta, which upsets me as a CO native — everyone knows it's "La Hunna"). The gift? "Cow's Balls." Moira grabs one and starts to chew. I dunno, it's gum or something — mostly it's just a way to make Moira look dumb.

The chart of Alice's moods — Alice is doing her radio show. She's not talking about Dana this time — at least, not directly. Instead, she's recounting her encounters with antidepressants. We get a flashback of her slashing Dana's tires (which is really quite funny), and then a lithium-fueled dinner with the cardboard cutout of Dana, and then an homage to "the A.D.D. drug, you know the one" (why can't they say Ritalin on this show?) and then "the new SSRI" that just might make you kill yourself. And then we see Alice with a vibrator, off her meds and finding her libido. It should be fun, but it's sad, because she's looking over at cardboard Dana and crying. Sigh. Such a wasted opportunity.

After the show (the radio show, not the vibrator show), one of Alice's producers (or whatever) threatens to fire Alice if she doesn't stop obsessing about Dana. She'll get one more chance, and will have to provide a script ahead of time. That's okay: she can lose her job and go work at the sex toy shop. And I can be her favorite customer.

Dana goes to the doctor — I don't really know what to say about this. The doctor says lots of not-quite-reassuring things about the lump in Dana's breast. And Dana gets a mammogram, but doesn't scowl the way I probably will when I start getting annual smushings. Scowl? I think I mean scream.

Erin Daniels tries to be funny every time there's even a hint of an opportunity (e.g., when the doctor refers to fibroadenoma, Dana calls it fiber-edamame: "I've got soybean pods in my boobs?"), but there's nothing funny about this storyline. That goes without saying, I suppose, but what's even worse is that there's not really anything very moving about this storyline either.

The house that's not a home — Tina's home; she finds Bette on the couch, pretending to read Art News but really reading Pema Chödrön. Bette offers a few choice quotes from the book — she talks about listening, essentially as a way to tell Tina that she's trying to be a better mate, and wants to keep the channels open, but Tina just walks away. (But before Tina does that, she looks at the book and says that Pema looks like a wookie. I think maybe she really means ewok, and either way it's just not nice.)

And then Tina drops this bomb from the next room: "Helena Peabody offered me a job." Nice of you to holler it, instead of sitting next to Bette and looking her in the eye to let her know you care.

Bette: "So then, there's no reason that I should feel threatened, or ... ?"
Tina: "No. There's nothing between us anymore. Nothing at all."
Bette: "Well, did you talk about money?"
Tina: "No, not yet."
Bette: "I don't know. I still don't know if I'm okay with it... I..."
Tina: "I'm not sure it's up to you."

Okay. Three things. First: Fuck you, Tina. Second, I don't care what's happened or who you are or what's going on, if you (and by "you" I mean anyone) are going to take a job with someone you've fucked, you might start by asking your partner how she feels about that, because if you have a brain you'll understand that such a situation might be a little uncomfortable for the one you supposedly love. Third: Fuck you, Tina.

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