"was in the gym and heard on the radio that lampard was in the running, almost fell of the treadmill"

Sorry. That is there only for my own personal pleasure. I love Scousers. English people rock.

ALRIGHT BACK TO WHAT I WAS ORIGINALLY POSTING ABOUT:

Why I'm ranting on this, I don't know, but I was just writing to Vicki about this in the notebook and decided to expand on it here.
It'll probably end up being a rant on pink gorillas eating pineapples for all I know... hey that would be interesting...

So I was telling Vicki about some of the stuff I was thinking during rehearsal, lots of inside jokes and stuff and I was like, "I wish you were here to laugh with me so I wouldn't be THAT much of an idiot. Well, I'll still be a big idiot, but you'll be there to be an idiot with me, so it doesn't matter what everyone else thinks. Now people just stare at me, roll their eyes, and go, "Right... Okay then... Move away from her."

And I was writing that and thinking, wow... that basically sums up my summer so far. Everywhere. Theatre. SAT Class. Calc class. Starting Wednesday probably at photo at Mt Sac as well. It was only on Michael's birthday when Amy came over and the three of us just walked around the spectrum that I truly felt happy, content. I could be weird. Be random. Be insane. Be me. And nobody was there to judge me for the worse for it. I was absolutely silly and felt loved, safe, and comfortable doing it. And I didn't realize how much I'd missed that feeling.
At rehearsal, I just sit there, or stand, depending on the location. I don't talk very much, or when I do, it's just not the same. Only with Cassidy are things a little bit better, but even then, I'm still like locked up, afraid of what I do or what I say. When I'm with my friends, with Vicki or Yogin or Andy or Robin or Elsa, I'm just WHEE!!!!!!!!! I feel free. I just say what I want. I don't even think. According to Michael, I don't even hear what I'm saying until it's already out and it's too late. I say things like, "OOOO DROP THE DRUMSTICKS!!!!!" when I see a trapdoor, or "PUNJAB HIM!!!"
Or I say, "TURKEY GOES FLIPPITY FLAP!" in the middle of Costco...

Back away slowly. Just keep backing away.

But in the end, that's who your friends are. They're the people who laugh (and snort, in Jen's case) with you when you're being a big idiot. They're the people who realize that you're not just a mental case, or understand that you are and love you in spite (or because) of it. Your friends are who you feel comfortable being a dork with, crying for absolutely no reason in the middle of the night, or laughing because there's a brown spot on the carpet.

They're the ones that when you're ranting on your blog and sobbing on Alyosha the polar bear, email you from 5000 miles away and immediately, everything seems happier. Even a paragraph detailing her STUPID outfit choices (polka dots and shiny gold?!! WHAT?! Are you going to Snow White's wedding or something?) makes you smile. Or when someone just leaves you a comment in the chatter clutching her dirt or picking a fight with Commodore Norringtorn. Or when every morning you look forward to hearing someone call you a "freakin lazy bum" on your voice mail.

I guess I just miss my friends.