(This is the writer: Rachel left her fiance an orthodontist on the alter, and became independent from her parents by doing waitressing at a cafe. Now she's kinda regret about the whole thing. )
Rachel: But see, it was a plan. Y'know, it was clear. It was figured out, and now everything's just kinda like...
Phoebe: Floopy ?
Rachel: Yeah.
Monica: So what, you're not the only one. I mean, half the time we don't know where we're going. You've just gotta figure at some point it's all gonna come together , and it's just gonna be... un-floppy.

Phoebe: Oh, like that's a word.

Rachel: Okay, but Monica, what if- what if it doesn't come together?
Monica: ...Pheebs?
Phoebe: Oh, well... 'cause.... you just... I don't like this question.
Rachel: Okay, see, see, you guys, what if we don't get magic beans? I mean, what if all we've got are.. beans?

[Scene: Monica and Rachel's, the slumber party continues.]
Rachel: I'm so sorry, you guys. I didn't mean to bring you down.
Monica: No, you were right. I don't have a plan. (There's a knock on the door.)
Pizza Guy: (yelling from outside) Pizza guy!
Rachel: Thank God. Food. (She goes to answer the door.)
Monica: Phoebe?
Phoebe: What?
Monica: Do you have a plan?
Phoebe: I don't even have a 'pla'.

Pizza Guy: Hi, one, uh, mushroom, green pepper and onion?
Rachel: (miserably) No, no, that's not what we ordered... We ordered a fat-free crust with extra cheese.