<?xml version='1.0' encoding='UTF-8'?><?xml-stylesheet href="http://www.blogger.com/styles/atom.css" type="text/css"?><feed xmlns='http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom' xmlns:openSearch='http://a9.com/-/spec/opensearchrss/1.0/' xmlns:georss='http://www.georss.org/georss'><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2541816896111662769</id><updated>2009-10-17T12:05:02.677-06:00</updated><title type='text'>iamtomsawyer</title><subtitle type='html'></subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://noahpippen.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2541816896111662769/posts/default'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://noahpippen.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><link rel='next' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2541816896111662769/posts/default?start-index=26&amp;max-results=25'/><author><name>Noah Pippen</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18212025759651055888</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>31</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>25</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2541816896111662769.post-6003083214152069747</id><published>2007-09-17T07:05:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2008-12-09T16:58:14.904-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Day 1: Church day</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_zr2ETXMgax4/Ru6At0cs-MI/AAAAAAAAAyw/L8XUJsSDRbI/s1600-h/DSC_0061.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_zr2ETXMgax4/Ru6At0cs-MI/AAAAAAAAAyw/L8XUJsSDRbI/s400/DSC_0061.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5111164151773591746" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well day 1 at Texas Bible Institute started well. We woke up, showered and got ready, and headed out on a bus to Katy. The church that is run by the pastor who runs the school is an hour away from campus---all the way in Katy, Texas.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Church was a shock. They ushered us into this big black-curtained room and everyone started freaking out and screaming and praying "in tongues". It was pretty hard to swallow---especially after about a half an hour of it. Everything at the church was loud and wild and it was too much for me. I actually walked out with my ears ringing. So I've discovered what my mission right now is: to start getting over my differences with these people. I'll explain here in a minute.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyways, we ended up going to Katy Memorial City Mall after church. This is like the BIGGEST mall I've ever been to... Lunch was really expensive, but the Apple store is pretty amazing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_zr2ETXMgax4/Ru6AuEcs-NI/AAAAAAAAAy4/aQB6NN9wcRo/s1600-h/DSC_0120.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_zr2ETXMgax4/Ru6AuEcs-NI/AAAAAAAAAy4/aQB6NN9wcRo/s400/DSC_0120.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5111164156068559058" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ok in order to explain what I was saying... I met a couple of kids who sat down with me and talked &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;real &lt;/span&gt;to me. They shared their experiences from last year and all the places they'd come from and things they did. I'll admit to being judgmental about everyone here from the word "go" I walked into this school with the pre-conceived notion that everyone here's gonna be a crazy, stuck-up holly roller or they'd be a total phony. These two kids I met yesterday proved me wrong. I'll get pictures of em eventually I'm sure.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After we ended up back at the campus, we went into town and bought groceries and other supplies for the room. Couple of the guys made grill cheese and coffee before bed.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyways, life has"started rolling" here at TBI... I'll have more news in the days to come.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_zr2ETXMgax4/Ru6Aukcs-OI/AAAAAAAAAzA/ji6sHMB5opc/s1600-h/DSC_0144.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_zr2ETXMgax4/Ru6Aukcs-OI/AAAAAAAAAzA/ji6sHMB5opc/s400/DSC_0144.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5111164164658493666" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2541816896111662769-6003083214152069747?l=noahpippen.blogspot.com'/&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://noahpippen.blogspot.com/feeds/6003083214152069747/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2541816896111662769&amp;postID=6003083214152069747' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2541816896111662769/posts/default/6003083214152069747'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2541816896111662769/posts/default/6003083214152069747'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://noahpippen.blogspot.com/2007/09/day-1-church-day.html' title='Day 1: Church day'/><author><name>Noah Pippen</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18212025759651055888</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='13103901897956232944'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_zr2ETXMgax4/Ru6At0cs-MI/AAAAAAAAAyw/L8XUJsSDRbI/s72-c/DSC_0061.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2541816896111662769.post-4888960007438233174</id><published>2007-07-31T15:45:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2007-07-31T15:59:23.225-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Showing in THREE DAYS!</title><content type='html'>Another good day. Last night I'd forgotten that I wasn't due in to work until noon today, so I still went to bed early and still woke up at 6:30 like always... but then I remembered, so I went to sleep and got to get up at 8:30 today! Man... it was nice.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyways, so I went downtown to check in with Café Centrale to see if they needed anything from me before Friday... but I never caught anyone cause it looked like they were real busy... July's photographs were still up, so I figured they wouldn't be needing my gallery yet. So I went down to the courthouse and got my registration renewed, and while I was down there I stared for a long time at that old Catholic church next to Sacred Heart school... I'll be back over there to take pictures for sure. It's a neat old building... one of these days this summer I'm gonna go around getting pictures of old houses and building... for sure. Old busted cars and trucks are cool too.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Went by Sonic cause I've been wanting to talk to Rick about stuff since I'm leaving and all... I kinda have a relationship that goes further than Boss-Employee with him. I've always heard that if you wanna make it in life hang out with people who ARE making it, so there you go. But he wasn't there this morning, so it was off to Laughlin for me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On my lunch break I went by the Burger King out there and ran into the Lunsford family having lunch and I was telling Mr. Lunsford about my plans and everything and he made a peculiar comment about "approving of my plan, even though I don't care what he thought", and it kinda bothered me, cause I don't know what he meant by it. I disagreed, though, asking who led him to believe that, and he didn't answer, but I'm thinking he mighta just been playing with me. It does kinda bother me, though. I've always looked up to him...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After work I stopped back by Sonic and finally caught Rick and visited with him for an hour-and-a-half or so, and it was a good talk, he's coming to my Photo Viewing and everything, and he was telling me all this stuff about his high school years and his time in the Army... pretty cool. I feel like if I make an effort to maintain a casual relationship with him that he'll be able to better understand my plans and goals and he'll be able to take care of me as an employee... it's working.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And before I got home, I went back by Centrale to see if Rose was there, but she'd just left and all the July photos were gone, so I'm thinking I need to get the rest of my stuff framed and ready cause it's gonna go up pretty soon. I'm really excited... it's all "butterflies in the stomach" kinda.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;No work at Sonic tonight, so I'm stoked.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2541816896111662769-4888960007438233174?l=noahpippen.blogspot.com'/&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://noahpippen.blogspot.com/feeds/4888960007438233174/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2541816896111662769&amp;postID=4888960007438233174' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2541816896111662769/posts/default/4888960007438233174'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2541816896111662769/posts/default/4888960007438233174'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://noahpippen.blogspot.com/2007/07/showing-in-three-days.html' title='Showing in THREE DAYS!'/><author><name>Noah Pippen</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18212025759651055888</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='13103901897956232944'/></author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2541816896111662769.post-70779842441531269</id><published>2007-07-30T21:15:00.001-06:00</published><updated>2007-07-30T21:20:01.827-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Bad at Poker</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://farm2.static.flickr.com/1003/958202468_b2d7eba2f8.jpg?v=0"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px;" src="http://farm2.static.flickr.com/1003/958202468_b2d7eba2f8.jpg?v=0" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So a lot of us went to Krysta's tonight and played some Texas Hold 'Em and B.S... and I'm bad at both. Then they decided to straighten Chris and Rory's hair... so I took a couple pictures while I was there. We only hung out for an hour or so, though, so we didn't get to do much.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hanging out with everyone kinda gave me flashbacks of high school---and I really hated high school a lot. Bad memories of me making a fool of myself are just flooding in... I feel fine though. In all honesty, I miss the ACHS days like CRAZY... just not the retarded days. I miss 9th grade at the old school too... memories of the rubberband fight when Mrs. Garcia flipped out and we just kept on shooting...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2541816896111662769-70779842441531269?l=noahpippen.blogspot.com'/&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://noahpippen.blogspot.com/feeds/70779842441531269/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2541816896111662769&amp;postID=70779842441531269' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2541816896111662769/posts/default/70779842441531269'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2541816896111662769/posts/default/70779842441531269'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://noahpippen.blogspot.com/2007/07/bad-at-poker.html' title='Bad at Poker'/><author><name>Noah Pippen</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18212025759651055888</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='13103901897956232944'/></author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2541816896111662769.post-7278282517289615211</id><published>2007-07-30T16:02:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2007-07-30T16:09:38.539-06:00</updated><title type='text'>The Rainy Thoughts</title><content type='html'>Today was neither amazing nor disappointing... so far. But it was quiet, so I definitely DO appreciate at least ONE thing about today. Nothing really negative happened, and I was able to just sit down at work (Laughlin) and do whatever for eight hours. Rain complicated a little bit of the day... but not enough to keep from going to Sonic here in two hours (...dang).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Speaking of Sonic, I only work three days this week and they're all closing shift---which are bad nowadays. I closed last night and the night before and I am pretty close to WORN OUT. It's not that it's been really busy (and it has), it's just having to stay up that late and run around serving people food in the humid-warm, night air while I'm losing precious hours of sleep... or just hours I could use to just "wind down" from the day.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm pretty discouraged about my poor schedule up there. I almost want to give it up, or at least SUGGEST the idea. I need money for TBI---PRETTY BAD. I've been looking around and gathering things to sell, and I may end up giving up some pretty nice things... disheartening, but necessary. I WILL go to TBI---I don't care what happens.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I feel pretty short for words today. But I think I've given a pretty good representation of my thoughts since this morning. I really need to work on my frames today, cause I'm not even halfway through. I'm getting really excited about the Viewing on Friday... I've got some cool ideas.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I hope everyone is well.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2541816896111662769-7278282517289615211?l=noahpippen.blogspot.com'/&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://noahpippen.blogspot.com/feeds/7278282517289615211/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2541816896111662769&amp;postID=7278282517289615211' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2541816896111662769/posts/default/7278282517289615211'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2541816896111662769/posts/default/7278282517289615211'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://noahpippen.blogspot.com/2007/07/rainy-thoughts.html' title='The Rainy Thoughts'/><author><name>Noah Pippen</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18212025759651055888</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='13103901897956232944'/></author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2541816896111662769.post-2098686109642659320</id><published>2007-07-27T13:17:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2008-12-09T16:58:15.063-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Framing</title><content type='html'>Well I got my photo prints in the mail from &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;Wal&lt;/span&gt;-Mart.com yesterday and I was/am super excited about framing and displaying at &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;Café&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;Centrale&lt;/span&gt; next Friday. I've framed 7 of 32 photographs already... and I spent hours on them yesterday.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_zr2ETXMgax4/RqpFwgfk9FI/AAAAAAAAAxo/iCFIwcsNnlI/s1600-h/DSC_0031-1.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_zr2ETXMgax4/RqpFwgfk9FI/AAAAAAAAAxo/iCFIwcsNnlI/s400/DSC_0031-1.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5091959028354184274" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm still feeling pretty sick, though. I got over the achy-painful "I'm sick" part and now I'm to the itchy eyes, feels-like-you-gotta-sneeze-all-the-time part. I can't decide which one I hate worse now. I just took this Tylenol Cold stuff--I didn't know Tylenol was IN the cold business... sure hope it works.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I had this crazy dream last night that I got married, and the weird thing was that the girl kept changing on me. I was probably married to three or four different girls last night, and it was confusing me cause I couldn't figure out who the hell I was married to! And two or three of the girls are bad enough that I'd probably have killed myself for marrying in real life--so I needed to know who it was.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So this morning I woke up and I've been irritable all day. I think I'm gonna try to spend some time alone so that I don't slip up and say something I don't mean if I get aggravated. I think it's mainly cause this is a pretty annoying cold.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2541816896111662769-2098686109642659320?l=noahpippen.blogspot.com'/&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://noahpippen.blogspot.com/feeds/2098686109642659320/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2541816896111662769&amp;postID=2098686109642659320' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2541816896111662769/posts/default/2098686109642659320'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2541816896111662769/posts/default/2098686109642659320'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://noahpippen.blogspot.com/2007/07/framing.html' title='Framing'/><author><name>Noah Pippen</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18212025759651055888</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='13103901897956232944'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_zr2ETXMgax4/RqpFwgfk9FI/AAAAAAAAAxo/iCFIwcsNnlI/s72-c/DSC_0031-1.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2541816896111662769.post-4760784326515975236</id><published>2007-07-26T12:15:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2007-07-26T20:06:20.523-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Home: Sick</title><content type='html'>Well, last week Isaac came down with a cold and he "called in" about being sick for &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;two days &lt;/span&gt;at Sonic. I guess I made fun of him a little too much, though. Seems like the guy is always sick and he can't handle anything when he is... so he sat around for a couple days and every time I'd see him he'd be complaining about being sick or he'd sniffling and hacking...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Seems like he was acting accordingly. Today marks the first day I've ever called in to work over a head-cold. You know how sometimes there'll be those viruses going around and sometimes everyone's case'll be worse than normal cause it's a more powerful virus? Well this is a "more powerful" cold, friends. I don't know &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;what's &lt;/span&gt;up, but it's been pretty bad already today. When I woke up this morning, it felt like I'd being banging on my head with a hammer for a couple hours the night before. I'm sore all over the place, too.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Wow, I probably sound SUPER whiny right now... I'm just trying to be descriptive, really. I could be at work right now, but I don't feel right putting everyone else in danger just because I want to get some hours, you know.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyways, yesterday was a lot of fun. I spent all morning at Laughlin learning Microsoft Access, which is a pretty cool program since it's surprisingly easy (I mean, it's MICROSOFT, what's going on?). And I'm kinda excited cause now I can probably use it to create databases for my websites and everything... but I got off work at noon and came home. Lunch was these amazing hamburgers my dad made with onions &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;cooked into them&lt;/span&gt;... oh man.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I wanted to go out and take pictures cause it was sunny and I knew of this cool place that I thought would look great in the sun, so I called &lt;a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/porchecm2"&gt;Chris Malloy&lt;/a&gt; and he headed out to my place. Course my parents made me mow the front lawn first :( but it wasn't hella hot so it was all good.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So when Chris got here, we headed out to &lt;a href="http://maps.google.com/maps?f=q&amp;hl=en&amp;amp;geocode=&amp;q=Del+Rio,+Val+Verde,+Texas,+United+States&amp;amp;sll=37.0625,-95.677068&amp;sspn=32.80241,82.265625&amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;ie=UTF8&amp;cd=1&amp;amp;mpnum=0&amp;ll=29.388682,-100.706606&amp;amp;spn=0.004403,0.010042&amp;t=h&amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;z=17&amp;om=1"&gt;Sycamore Creek&lt;/a&gt;, which is a creek on Hwy 90 about 5 miles past Laughlin... click the link, it's a map. Anyways, there were all these fences everywhere and neither of us felt like getting in trouble because it was a road construction zone at the time... so somebody would probably see us out there, even though it IS in the middle of nowhere... and it's BEAUTIFUL.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So we turned around and I told Chris that I knew of another cool place that I've been to and wanted to take pictures of, so I took him out to this gi-normous hill out by the San Felipe cemetery and we started climbing up. The cool thing about the hills out there is all the erosion leaves behind TONS of interesting fossils, rocks, and petrified wood. It's a short hike up, but we spent like ten, fifteen, twenty minutes hiking up there cause we were looking for cool stuff. Wonder if there's any arrowheads... Any was there were some storm rolling in from the north, and I was kinda worried about lightning, but Chris was awfully EXCITED about lightning, so we spent a while up there.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://farm2.static.flickr.com/1328/906819547_a6d65d85b1.jpg?v=0"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 355px; height: 233px;" src="http://farm2.static.flickr.com/1328/906819547_a6d65d85b1.jpg?v=0" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We went home around 6 and Joey joined up with us, bringing some pizza over and we looked at our photos... about eighty of my hundred photos were OVEREXPOSED BEYOND BELIEF... yeah they're so ruined I can't do hardly anything with them. See, I haven't done a lot of shooting with my 300mm lens yet, so I'm not used the aperture settings... it's different than my other lenses. But I was so disappointed in my ruined pictures.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyways, we decided to go back up to the hill just before sunset so we could get more pictures, and the sun started to go down RIGHT as we drove up, so we were booking it up that hill as fast as we could and when we reached the top, Chris and I both had these asthma attacks and I think he almost died :D... I was pretty messed up, too. Nevertheless, I ended up getting some cool sunset pictures up there.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://farm2.static.flickr.com/1086/900490711_82977eb539.jpg?v=0"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 340px; height: 225px;" src="http://farm2.static.flickr.com/1086/900490711_82977eb539.jpg?v=0" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So yesterday was a really cool day... but today kinda sucks. But it'll be over in eight hours.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2541816896111662769-4760784326515975236?l=noahpippen.blogspot.com'/&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://noahpippen.blogspot.com/feeds/4760784326515975236/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2541816896111662769&amp;postID=4760784326515975236' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2541816896111662769/posts/default/4760784326515975236'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2541816896111662769/posts/default/4760784326515975236'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://noahpippen.blogspot.com/2007/07/home-sick.html' title='Home: Sick'/><author><name>Noah Pippen</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18212025759651055888</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='13103901897956232944'/></author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2541816896111662769.post-6301728711105973445</id><published>2007-07-11T11:08:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2007-07-11T11:11:20.095-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Update about the Viewing</title><content type='html'>Well I've got a couple of weeks left to be picking out my favorite photos to be displayed at the viewing in August, but I'm not sure whether to start printing yet or to wait until I can get as many photos as possible before I start printing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But I'm excited. I'm gonna be looking for frames today. Believe it or not, ROSS actually has some pretty good specimens.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hope to see &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;yall&lt;/span&gt; there on August 3rd!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'll keep you guys updated.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2541816896111662769-6301728711105973445?l=noahpippen.blogspot.com'/&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://noahpippen.blogspot.com/feeds/6301728711105973445/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2541816896111662769&amp;postID=6301728711105973445' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2541816896111662769/posts/default/6301728711105973445'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2541816896111662769/posts/default/6301728711105973445'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://noahpippen.blogspot.com/2007/07/update-about-viewing.html' title='Update about the Viewing'/><author><name>Noah Pippen</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18212025759651055888</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='13103901897956232944'/></author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2541816896111662769.post-6561466008511893543</id><published>2007-05-28T22:34:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2007-05-28T22:40:42.124-06:00</updated><title type='text'>ESPIE PHOTO SUMMER</title><content type='html'>About two months ago I got this great idea to start taking my photography to another level. Right now I can say it's my more serious art. I love playing music and all, but photography has definitely captured me. I saved up and have purchased a new Nikon dSLR (you can see a picture of it on my &lt;a href="http://www.pippenfamily.com/noah"&gt;homepage&lt;/a&gt;), and it's AMAZING.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyways, I wanted to explain that I will be visiting many locations in Del Rio this summer to take photographs. I want to bring another side out of Del Rio that perhaps is not often appreciated. My good shots will be posted online in &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;two locations&lt;/span&gt;... this is where it gets tricky, so I want to explain.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If you want to see my best shots, visit my &lt;a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/noahpippen"&gt;Flickr Page&lt;/a&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;If you want to see my other shots, visit my &lt;a href="http://picasaweb.google.com/americanpayplate"&gt;Picasa Album&lt;/a&gt;.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2541816896111662769-6561466008511893543?l=noahpippen.blogspot.com'/&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://noahpippen.blogspot.com/feeds/6561466008511893543/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2541816896111662769&amp;postID=6561466008511893543' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2541816896111662769/posts/default/6561466008511893543'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2541816896111662769/posts/default/6561466008511893543'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://noahpippen.blogspot.com/2007/05/espie-photo-summer.html' title='ESPIE PHOTO SUMMER'/><author><name>Noah Pippen</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18212025759651055888</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='13103901897956232944'/></author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2541816896111662769.post-4935233834580369948</id><published>2007-04-11T21:19:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2007-04-11T21:23:24.498-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Things for REALS.</title><content type='html'>Man, God is laying the bricks! Things are beginning to fall into place I never would have expected. There's so much ahead. There's so much that's gonna happen. I'm so excited I don't know how to express the thoughts. Seeing change come about for real for once is the craziest feeling that has ever existed in me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I can't let it ever stop. I can't turn away. Man O man there's no way I can ditch all this and go looking for my life again. I love being dead! I can just &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;sit &lt;/span&gt;here and be OK now. I didn't think I'd ever feel this feeling again, but now I do.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm so excited about the light that's starting to creep around people hearts. I'm so stoked about the doors being opened, so the cool can come on in. O man, I'm so pumped up.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2541816896111662769-4935233834580369948?l=noahpippen.blogspot.com'/&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://noahpippen.blogspot.com/feeds/4935233834580369948/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2541816896111662769&amp;postID=4935233834580369948' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2541816896111662769/posts/default/4935233834580369948'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2541816896111662769/posts/default/4935233834580369948'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://noahpippen.blogspot.com/2007/04/things-for-reals.html' title='Things for REALS.'/><author><name>Noah Pippen</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18212025759651055888</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='13103901897956232944'/></author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2541816896111662769.post-1555199764429741857</id><published>2007-04-09T21:49:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2007-04-09T21:54:11.970-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Wheels keep rolling</title><content type='html'>Tonight, I finally can and will say that I have never been more excited about Christ in all my life. In days to come, I hope I can continue to say that, because I know there's no end to his joy! There's no way God's world can get boring! His joy will never end!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We've opened up support group again and tonight was a landmark. I know I left more excited than I was all day, I know Joey got some words and so did Chris. I'm hoping everyone else is pretty stoked, because I know I am.'&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Joey's and my spirit are saying the same thing about Del Rio. It's one thing to feel something, but another thing when someone else feels it too, confirming it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There's a job to do.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2541816896111662769-1555199764429741857?l=noahpippen.blogspot.com'/&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://noahpippen.blogspot.com/feeds/1555199764429741857/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2541816896111662769&amp;postID=1555199764429741857' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2541816896111662769/posts/default/1555199764429741857'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2541816896111662769/posts/default/1555199764429741857'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://noahpippen.blogspot.com/2007/04/wheels-keep-rolling.html' title='Wheels keep rolling'/><author><name>Noah Pippen</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18212025759651055888</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='13103901897956232944'/></author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2541816896111662769.post-8616132531735404721</id><published>2007-04-09T11:24:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2007-04-09T11:30:54.223-06:00</updated><title type='text'>LaDonna Taylor</title><content type='html'>There's a lady who plays violin who comes to visit our church every once in a while. I've only seen her play once before, and I was turned off. It's not that she was doing anything contradictory to what I believed, it just seemed like what she came to say and do would been better at a &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;concert&lt;/span&gt; or something rather than &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;as a replacement to &lt;/span&gt;our actual Sunday service. I just like going and listening to my pastor on Sunday mornings I guess.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyways, she came again yesterday--Easter Sunday. This time was different. I still can't put a finger on it. All I know is that God was speaking to me yesterday while she played and talked. The first time she came I just sat there like a rock. Anyways, she called for prayer and I decided to go because I realized the only reason I &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;didn't &lt;/span&gt;want to go up there is because I had a bad first impression and I was full of pride.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I realized that God can and should be worshiped in any atmosphere available.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2541816896111662769-8616132531735404721?l=noahpippen.blogspot.com'/&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://noahpippen.blogspot.com/feeds/8616132531735404721/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2541816896111662769&amp;postID=8616132531735404721' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2541816896111662769/posts/default/8616132531735404721'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2541816896111662769/posts/default/8616132531735404721'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://noahpippen.blogspot.com/2007/04/ladonna-taylor.html' title='LaDonna Taylor'/><author><name>Noah Pippen</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18212025759651055888</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='13103901897956232944'/></author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2541816896111662769.post-8168093147425074906</id><published>2007-04-03T22:01:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2007-04-03T22:30:19.141-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Romans 7 and 8 Journal 1: Introduction</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color: rgb(153, 153, 153);font-size:100%;" &gt;Tonight at the youth board meeting, Pastor Dot said I should read the book of Romans and speak on it next Wednesday (April 10). I said, "Wow! The &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic; color: rgb(153, 153, 153);font-size:100%;" &gt;WHOLE BOOK &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(153, 153, 153);font-size:100%;" &gt;of Romans? In one night?" And, since she knows me, she says, "Ok, I see what you mean. Let's narrow it down to Romans chapter 7 and 8. Those are some good ones." But I was still taken aback about speaking about &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic; color: rgb(153, 153, 153);font-size:100%;" &gt;BOTH CHAPTERS &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(153, 153, 153);font-size:100%;" &gt;in one night, but I think I'll be able to do it somehow. There's &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic; color: rgb(153, 153, 153);font-size:100%;" &gt;SO MUCH &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(153, 153, 153);font-size:100%;" &gt;in those chapters. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(153, 153, 153);font-size:100%;" &gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(153, 153, 153);font-size:100%;" &gt;I've decided to read these chapters at least every day. A couple times a day wouldn't hurt, but we're just gonna start out with &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic; color: rgb(153, 153, 153);font-size:100%;" &gt;once&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(153, 153, 153);font-size:100%;" &gt; a day. Even if I don't get to say everything that hit me while I read this in the actual youth service next week, I'll at least have it posted here. Take a break and read Romans 7 and 8 if you want to completely understand what I'm gonna be talking about. Here's tonight's thoughts:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After having read through these two chapters for the first time this week, there's too much to cover, so I'm glad I'm stretching this out over a couple of nights.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This passage is really cool because Paul (the writer) presents the sin problem, talks about how God solved it through Christ, and then builds and builds and builds on just the sheer amazingness of Jesus and his incredible love. It starts explaining that the "old man" has died because Christ saved us from sin and now we're like a widow who is free to marry. Being free, we have married ourselves to the freedom Jesus offered. Sin no longer calls the shots and and carries us all the way to the grave.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Paul gets realistic here. I'm sure we all ask ourselves the question: "If we're free from sin, how come we sin?" right? I know I have. It doesn't make sense to hear that we're free from sin if we can look at our lives and notice that &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;we're sinning everywhere&lt;/span&gt;, does it? That's where we go wrong, and I realized why for the first time tonight. Just read these next few sentences slowly so they'll sink in.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;God has gotten rid of the old, sinful man.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We are not like we used to be, we are changed.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sin is no longer in us... but we sin...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;...why?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Remember this: Sin is no longer IN us. It just GETS IN OUR WAY.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We are no longer controlled by sin, but it's still there because it exists to block our path.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Does that make any sense to you? It hit me like a moment of epiphany. Sin IS no longer in me! It's just in my way. That makes me feel so much cleaner! But it also makes me feel much more like sin is just a big stupid thing in the way. Like trash I can kick to the side as I'm walking by. Man, that makes me feel a lot more like the conqueror God has made me!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A lot of people will read Romans 7 and get to that passage towards the end where Paul talks about how confusing it is that he still sins, and these readers will close the book, sigh, and just say to themselves, "Man life just sucks, seems like I'll never be able to do it. It even says it here in the Bible." I know I have before. But you should NEVER stop there in the chapter! Paul goes on to explain what God has done for us with Jesus's sacrifice to make us free.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Chapter eight just expounds and expounds and expounds on how amazing Christ is and how great his love is for us. I think the part I loved the most already is the part about prayer. Paul says not to worry about not knowing what to pray. Prayer isn't magic. He says Jesus will take whatever we've got and give it to the Father, who knows us better than we even know ourselves.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;GOD UNDERSTANDS OUR JIBBERISH!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Boy, he loves me more than I'll ever &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;UNDERSTAND&lt;/span&gt;. It's such a weird thought. It's like his goodness never ends.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2541816896111662769-8168093147425074906?l=noahpippen.blogspot.com'/&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://noahpippen.blogspot.com/feeds/8168093147425074906/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2541816896111662769&amp;postID=8168093147425074906' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2541816896111662769/posts/default/8168093147425074906'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2541816896111662769/posts/default/8168093147425074906'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://noahpippen.blogspot.com/2007/04/romans-7-and-8-journal-1-introduction.html' title='Romans 7 and 8 Journal 1: Introduction'/><author><name>Noah Pippen</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18212025759651055888</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='13103901897956232944'/></author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2541816896111662769.post-6440901155379827490</id><published>2007-03-25T14:34:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2007-03-25T14:49:59.840-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Island-hopping.</title><content type='html'>Hello again&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Daily news always turns into weekly news, but now it's turned into &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;monthly news&lt;/span&gt;. My apologies. So what's the news? Well, it's now past mid-terms at school, so I know where I stand in all of my classes, and where I need work (English Composition II).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Work is still the same--it won't ever change. Ever. The only thrill there is when we get new people and the thrill only lasts if those new people are interesting. Turns out we've gotten some pretty enjoyable people since the beginning of the year. But Sonic has never been and will never &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;BE&lt;/span&gt; my favorite subject, so we move on.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My favorite news is always what's going on in the church. I'm steadily continuing to grow steadier in music--the method and theory is coming with ease, and I've been more excited than ever to be able to play weekly with the band. We actually got a chance to play in Sunday service the day after we came home from Acquire the Fire. It was amazing. Since that Sunday, I think the whole band's vision is changing--the worship really seems more present.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The youth (which includes me, of course) are visibly growing closer to each other. More and more people break their barriers every week, and the Spirit is helping to all listen to each other and support each other. There's still a few out there who haven't budged, but it'll be their turn next. This is such an amazing thing they're missing, I'm sure it'll catch on.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We've had a couple of speakers in the last month, some of them were from TBI. Man, that week was awesome. It just seems like every time we're able to get down to the nitty gritty with something and there's always something to learn--some strength or encouragement to carry away.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It seems like all along in my Walk I've been waiting for fellowship like this. Now I've finally found it. The funny thing is that it's so hard to explain to outsiders what exactly I get out of all of it. I find myself trying to explain to people why kids teaching kids has been so effective and so unifying. Everyone seems so afraid, but I can only feel ecstasy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So I find myself getting through the days just to go back for more. I never before pictured myself in church five days a week. It's like island hopping between Tuesdays, Wednesdays, Thursdays, Fridays, and Sundays.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2541816896111662769-6440901155379827490?l=noahpippen.blogspot.com'/&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://noahpippen.blogspot.com/feeds/6440901155379827490/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2541816896111662769&amp;postID=6440901155379827490' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2541816896111662769/posts/default/6440901155379827490'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2541816896111662769/posts/default/6440901155379827490'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://noahpippen.blogspot.com/2007/03/island-hopping.html' title='Island-hopping.'/><author><name>Noah Pippen</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18212025759651055888</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='13103901897956232944'/></author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2541816896111662769.post-244940839798498603</id><published>2007-02-26T21:55:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2008-12-09T16:58:15.610-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Video.</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_zr2ETXMgax4/ReOr1bWFEMI/AAAAAAAAAMM/K7M6icEhgnI/s1600-h/brandedbygod_logo.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_zr2ETXMgax4/ReOr1bWFEMI/AAAAAAAAAMM/K7M6icEhgnI/s200/brandedbygod_logo.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5036057742692126914" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The video is &lt;a href="http://picasaweb.google.com/americanpayplate/AcquireTheFire/photo#5036056445612003506"&gt;here&lt;/a&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2541816896111662769-244940839798498603?l=noahpippen.blogspot.com'/&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://noahpippen.blogspot.com/feeds/244940839798498603/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2541816896111662769&amp;postID=244940839798498603' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2541816896111662769/posts/default/244940839798498603'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2541816896111662769/posts/default/244940839798498603'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://noahpippen.blogspot.com/2007/02/video.html' title='Video.'/><author><name>Noah Pippen</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18212025759651055888</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='13103901897956232944'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_zr2ETXMgax4/ReOr1bWFEMI/AAAAAAAAAMM/K7M6icEhgnI/s72-c/brandedbygod_logo.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2541816896111662769.post-8963418641794037715</id><published>2007-02-25T22:31:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2008-12-09T16:58:15.904-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Get the Flames</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_zr2ETXMgax4/ReJjArWFDCI/AAAAAAAAACs/tI7KMeH_3VY/s1600-h/PICT0135.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_zr2ETXMgax4/ReJjArWFDCI/AAAAAAAAACs/tI7KMeH_3VY/s200/PICT0135.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5035696196640115746" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Acquire the Fire was this weekend.&lt;br /&gt;Visit my &lt;a href="http://picasaweb.google.com/americanpayplate"&gt;Picasa Album&lt;/a&gt; for the pictures.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Working on a Video.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Will blog about it the trip later.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2541816896111662769-8963418641794037715?l=noahpippen.blogspot.com'/&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://noahpippen.blogspot.com/feeds/8963418641794037715/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2541816896111662769&amp;postID=8963418641794037715' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2541816896111662769/posts/default/8963418641794037715'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2541816896111662769/posts/default/8963418641794037715'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://noahpippen.blogspot.com/2007/02/get-flames.html' title='Get the Flames'/><author><name>Noah Pippen</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18212025759651055888</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='13103901897956232944'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_zr2ETXMgax4/ReJjArWFDCI/AAAAAAAAACs/tI7KMeH_3VY/s72-c/PICT0135.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2541816896111662769.post-2481183781123283087</id><published>2007-02-21T15:36:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2008-12-09T16:58:16.174-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Hang my head and listen</title><content type='html'>Haven't been excited about much lately. But this excited me last night: Joy Electric put a demo song on their &lt;a href="http://www.myspace.com/joyelectric"&gt;MySpace&lt;/a&gt;. I can't believe all the great music that's been coming out recently...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyways, school's coming along. I've received some feedback from some of my professors that I am doing well (especially in science). Biology has become a love.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Last summer, I fell into such a passive state. Time passed me by while I worked and slept, and didn't build any friendships or work at them. I'm subconsciously falling back into this. It's like sleep overtaking me without consent. I've made my vows, it grew tough, and I end up worse than before.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'd like a new thought process, you know? I hate the things that are always in my head. I've got a plan. At least I've got that.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_zr2ETXMgax4/Rdy9ALWFDBI/AAAAAAAAACg/KV9CEIhyZ9A/s1600-h/iMac+17.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_zr2ETXMgax4/Rdy9ALWFDBI/AAAAAAAAACg/KV9CEIhyZ9A/s200/iMac+17.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5034106294236417042" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's starts with an iMac.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;------&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My dream to become a school-teacher may be much more attainable than I previously thought. I'm going to apply to a few private schools around town over the summer.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's also looking like Laughlin Air Force Base may be interested in my computer experience. If possible I'll be taking a job there this summer.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's time to just &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;get started&lt;/span&gt; I feel.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2541816896111662769-2481183781123283087?l=noahpippen.blogspot.com'/&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://noahpippen.blogspot.com/feeds/2481183781123283087/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2541816896111662769&amp;postID=2481183781123283087' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2541816896111662769/posts/default/2481183781123283087'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2541816896111662769/posts/default/2481183781123283087'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://noahpippen.blogspot.com/2007/02/hang-my-head-and-listen.html' title='Hang my head and listen'/><author><name>Noah Pippen</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18212025759651055888</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='13103901897956232944'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_zr2ETXMgax4/Rdy9ALWFDBI/AAAAAAAAACg/KV9CEIhyZ9A/s72-c/iMac+17.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2541816896111662769.post-6179457015424050565</id><published>2007-02-05T21:51:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2007-02-05T22:09:47.139-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Unable.</title><content type='html'>Too much work. Too much school. Not enough time. I love my friends. I love playing guitar. I love taking pictures. I love playing Nintendo. I love the youth band.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Had a hard week last week. No blog--I didn't want to scare anyone. Had a couple of hard nights. Pulled through. Chris helped--big time. I miss that guy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://picasaweb.google.com/americanpayplate/KidsFromYouth"&gt;Here's some pictures I took on Friday at my party at church&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2541816896111662769-6179457015424050565?l=noahpippen.blogspot.com'/&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://noahpippen.blogspot.com/feeds/6179457015424050565/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2541816896111662769&amp;postID=6179457015424050565' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2541816896111662769/posts/default/6179457015424050565'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2541816896111662769/posts/default/6179457015424050565'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://noahpippen.blogspot.com/2007/02/unable.html' title='Unable.'/><author><name>Noah Pippen</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18212025759651055888</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='13103901897956232944'/></author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2541816896111662769.post-3663657101350862843</id><published>2007-01-30T10:09:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2008-12-09T16:58:16.516-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Birthday present!</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_zr2ETXMgax4/Rb9uBkuvV4I/AAAAAAAAAAM/HE5BF0p3U9M/s1600-h/PICT0003.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_zr2ETXMgax4/Rb9uBkuvV4I/AAAAAAAAAAM/HE5BF0p3U9M/s400/PICT0003.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5025856682487404418" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;YES! My birthday's Friday. Mom and Dad got me this and it came early.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2541816896111662769-3663657101350862843?l=noahpippen.blogspot.com'/&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://noahpippen.blogspot.com/feeds/3663657101350862843/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2541816896111662769&amp;postID=3663657101350862843' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2541816896111662769/posts/default/3663657101350862843'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2541816896111662769/posts/default/3663657101350862843'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://noahpippen.blogspot.com/2007/01/birthday-present.html' title='Birthday present!'/><author><name>Noah Pippen</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18212025759651055888</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='13103901897956232944'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_zr2ETXMgax4/Rb9uBkuvV4I/AAAAAAAAAAM/HE5BF0p3U9M/s72-c/PICT0003.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2541816896111662769.post-4731899426509471320</id><published>2007-01-29T21:58:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2007-01-29T22:01:16.533-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Irony</title><content type='html'>Tonight I shook a multi-billionare's hand. My dad's is softer. Does money solve more problems than it creates?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2541816896111662769-4731899426509471320?l=noahpippen.blogspot.com'/&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://noahpippen.blogspot.com/feeds/4731899426509471320/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2541816896111662769&amp;postID=4731899426509471320' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2541816896111662769/posts/default/4731899426509471320'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2541816896111662769/posts/default/4731899426509471320'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://noahpippen.blogspot.com/2007/01/irony.html' title='Irony'/><author><name>Noah Pippen</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18212025759651055888</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='13103901897956232944'/></author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2541816896111662769.post-622877336638711046</id><published>2007-01-29T15:55:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2007-01-29T16:05:53.666-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Everything's missing but nothing's wrong?</title><content type='html'>It's one of those fine days when you just want to take a long quiet walk and just let everything soak in. Just breathe in all the air you can. The wind is so crisp and clear, too! This is one of those days that I can just smile, looking ahead, and trip over all my surroundings.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sometimes I wonder what's worth the fight when everything is said and done. &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Que sera, sera... &lt;/span&gt;the song of bittersweet apathy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I feel like such a renegade at war when I turn around and realize where I am and where everyone else is. How is everyone able to do it right? Why will I never be like them? Do I need to? Should I want to? Who's really the smart ones?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Windy days make me think like this.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2541816896111662769-622877336638711046?l=noahpippen.blogspot.com'/&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://noahpippen.blogspot.com/feeds/622877336638711046/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2541816896111662769&amp;postID=622877336638711046' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2541816896111662769/posts/default/622877336638711046'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2541816896111662769/posts/default/622877336638711046'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://noahpippen.blogspot.com/2007/01/everythings-missing-but-nothings-wrong.html' title='Everything&apos;s missing but nothing&apos;s wrong?'/><author><name>Noah Pippen</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18212025759651055888</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='13103901897956232944'/></author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2541816896111662769.post-3527758098801050933</id><published>2007-01-21T22:19:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2007-01-21T22:29:46.267-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Sporadic</title><content type='html'>I have a friend with ADD. He has terrificly random thought processes. I almost &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;envy &lt;/span&gt;him. In fact, I think I could admit to that. I'm studying his patterns closely, trying to apply them to my own brain. It's working a little. Maybe it's not his ADD that I am envious of, maybe it's because he can speak about whatever he's thinking about whenever he wants to. Sometimes I'm short for words. Sometimes I just don't want to be really real with people. I want to start.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I told my friend the other day at work that I wanted to go to the zoo because I haven't been in years. She looked at me like I told her that I watch Barney. I still really want to go to the zoo. I'm hoping that this will help me to write more creatively and more often. I'm mostly afraid of mediocrity, and in all of my art. This is a fear I need to get over.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;School is gonna be tough this semester. I don't know if I've already mentioned that. I've already written a paper, done some research, and presented a speech. I almost wish I was still in high school... almost. See ya'll around this week.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2541816896111662769-3527758098801050933?l=noahpippen.blogspot.com'/&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://noahpippen.blogspot.com/feeds/3527758098801050933/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2541816896111662769&amp;postID=3527758098801050933' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2541816896111662769/posts/default/3527758098801050933'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2541816896111662769/posts/default/3527758098801050933'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://noahpippen.blogspot.com/2007/01/sporadic.html' title='Sporadic'/><author><name>Noah Pippen</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18212025759651055888</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='13103901897956232944'/></author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2541816896111662769.post-2511642966847252076</id><published>2007-01-16T16:20:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2007-01-16T16:25:37.419-06:00</updated><title type='text'>MY snow!</title><content type='html'>Hey everyone. May not be a blog today. I've been out in the snow and taking pictures and videos. Take this link to my &lt;a href="http://picasaweb.google.com/americanpayplate"&gt;photo albums&lt;/a&gt;. By the way, if you all never noticed, there should be a little section over there on the side panel (---&gt;) that says "Photos I'm Taking". It will list all my new photo albums and when they were posted. Keeps em coming, Olive! See yall on the streets.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2541816896111662769-2511642966847252076?l=noahpippen.blogspot.com'/&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://noahpippen.blogspot.com/feeds/2511642966847252076/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2541816896111662769&amp;postID=2511642966847252076' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2541816896111662769/posts/default/2511642966847252076'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2541816896111662769/posts/default/2511642966847252076'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://noahpippen.blogspot.com/2007/01/my-snow.html' title='MY snow!'/><author><name>Noah Pippen</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18212025759651055888</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='13103901897956232944'/></author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2541816896111662769.post-9013835621422526296</id><published>2007-01-15T10:00:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2007-01-15T15:53:55.157-06:00</updated><title type='text'>God talking about love.</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-style: italic; color: rgb(153, 153, 153);"&gt;I don't normally post twice in one day. The last blog was written around midnight last night. This was written this morning at school.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;I lied in bed last night and all it took was two or three words to let God know I was listening, and He didn’t hold back. I almost feel like he was yelling at me, like &lt;st1:city st="on"&gt;&lt;st1:place st="on"&gt;Lawrence&lt;/st1:place&gt;&lt;/st1:city&gt; that one day in the field in front of his house. It was loving, but it was firm.&lt;/p&gt;    &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;I can’t go on only thinking about myself. To see reality again like I did yesterday would take me forgetting about myself and embracing other peoples lives. I’m reading a book called &lt;i style=""&gt;Blue Like Jazz&lt;/i&gt; by Donald Miller. He says love feels so amazing because you forget about yourself and think about the other person instead. The other person’s life becomes yours, and yours becomes theirs. I don’t feel like he’s limiting this type of love to “marriage” or “girlfriend”. I think this love is what we’re supposed extend to all people.&lt;/p&gt;    &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;Since I embraced faith in Christ, I’ve discovered its ultimate simplicity and how very logical it all is. At the end of all my personal journeys and diehard attempts at running my own life, I now always realize that it’s perfectly logical to give it to Christ. If I can’t run my own life, why not give it to someone else? Someone who is absolutely perfect and good. It makes a lot of sense. &lt;/p&gt;    &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;At the same time, if all the time I spend trying to make myself feel better is wasted, then why not give all that time and effort to someone else, to other people? It makes a lot of sense. Though it’s likely that I won’t change anytime soon, at least I’ve written this down. At least I can challenge myself.&lt;/p&gt;    &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;There is a drama and theatre class across the hall from me right now. I’m currently waiting for government class to start. Now I wish I could take electives, whereas I earlier thought I would only be wasting my time. Maybe next semester.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2541816896111662769-9013835621422526296?l=noahpippen.blogspot.com'/&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://noahpippen.blogspot.com/feeds/9013835621422526296/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2541816896111662769&amp;postID=9013835621422526296' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2541816896111662769/posts/default/9013835621422526296'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2541816896111662769/posts/default/9013835621422526296'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://noahpippen.blogspot.com/2007/01/god-talking-about-love.html' title='God talking about love.'/><author><name>Noah Pippen</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18212025759651055888</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='13103901897956232944'/></author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2541816896111662769.post-5448870931124052205</id><published>2007-01-15T00:00:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2007-01-15T15:50:11.337-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Analytical</title><content type='html'>&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;There’s a girl at work named Omega. She looks me in the eyes when I talk to her. She will smile and answer my questions or add to my comments. I know nothing about her and she knows nothing about me. I could count on two hands the times I’ve worked the same shift with her and she’s been there almost five months. But she will talk to me like we’re old friends, like we went to school together, or live across the street from each other.&lt;/p&gt;    &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;There’s a guy at church named Richard. He never spoke to me until I shook his hand for the first time one day at youth band practice. But he looked at me and repeated something I said once at youth that he really connected to. In that moment of which he spoke, we clicked and I hadn’t even met him. But it’s like we see eye to eye. Like I joined his club instantly, and he could open up. He has shared personal things with me. I can count on &lt;i style=""&gt;one &lt;/i&gt;hand the number of conversations we’ve had, but he’s like a relative or a brother. Like an old friend.&lt;/p&gt;    &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;There was a woman at Sonic who I served a coney with chili and onions to today. She smiled at me—really smiled—when she handed me her money. I smiled back, wondering what was so different. I asked her if she needed anything extra and she asked for ketchup. I gave it to her from my apron and told her to have a great day, really meaning it deep inside. As I took another order out, she caught me and asked for another fork and a few napkins. I couldn’t resist. When I returned, she smiled at me again the same way. I can remember her face so vivid. She was so friendly, quiet, and real. She treated me like a son or a nephew.&lt;/p&gt;    &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;There’s an older man at church who shakes my hand and gives me a hug every Sunday. He knows my name, but I don’t know his. I think I remember seeing his face when the men all went to TBI this past fall. He walked beside me as we all filed around the auditorium praying for each other. This man congratulated me this morning, hearing I had received a 4.0 on my finals last semester. He said he read it in the paper. It shocked me that he was thinking about me and probably had prayed for me that night at TBI, and I’ve never asked him his name. &lt;/p&gt;    &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;A few minutes ago I looked at myself and realized I live around heroes and I never knew it. A few minutes ago I thought about how much I wanted a soda, but my mom never buys enough. I also thought about what Hannah really thinks of me. I thought about Dad’s job, and his office on base that I’ve never been to. I thought about Grandpa Mack alone in his motor home, ready to go to work tomorrow. I thought about how I probably won’t be able to get my car started in the morning because of the ice, and how other kids are driving around 2006 Maximas and 2007 Versas. &lt;/p&gt;    &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;I can’t do it. I can’t be real and mean things. I can’t even thank God the right way. Even though some people say I can. Some people believe I can. Some people cheer me on. Some people believe in what I’m doing. Some people believe in what I want to do. Right now I can’t seem to. But we have to believe in something if we want to overcome. Today I felt like a radio antenna—receiving signals of reality. Who my little brother is. What my little sister laughs at. That my Granny drove six and a half hours to come see us, giving us the excuse that Mom is selling on eBay for her. That my bosses’ marriages are failing and another manager gets high a lot.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;    &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;I got reality today because I woke up and forgot that I was here, and started to see that everyone else was. I lost the reality by sleeping it off this afternoon, so that I could be “comfortable” with the rest of the day. I just realized I may never see reality again like I did today, and I went and &lt;i style=""&gt;slept it off&lt;/i&gt;. I sold out. I knew what I had and I flushed it away for some pleasure. I can only hope the reversal will help me to get that reality back. The clearness in the air I breathed, the air around me so close and real, so clear and glowing and golden and slow. &lt;/p&gt;    &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;Jesus has done too much for me. He must want me bad. I feel so filthy. And now He’s read everything I just typed out, I hope he’ll accept my confession and my desire to repent. I’ll go to Him personally in a few minutes.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2541816896111662769-5448870931124052205?l=noahpippen.blogspot.com'/&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://noahpippen.blogspot.com/feeds/5448870931124052205/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2541816896111662769&amp;postID=5448870931124052205' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2541816896111662769/posts/default/5448870931124052205'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2541816896111662769/posts/default/5448870931124052205'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://noahpippen.blogspot.com/2007/01/analytical.html' title='Analytical'/><author><name>Noah Pippen</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18212025759651055888</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='13103901897956232944'/></author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2541816896111662769.post-6511289614012903153</id><published>2007-01-14T20:37:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2007-01-14T20:57:26.189-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Like a dream.</title><content type='html'>This weekend was a sweet basket or rarities. Like drawing Wild in the UNO card game. Such a blessing. God has granted some peace, even in spite of my inattentiveness. I think he does this to help me remember where I ought to be casting my eyes, but sometimes I fail to make the connection. Either way this weekend was unlike other weekends, which are usually like sores rubbing together in my joints.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Joey and I were able to spend lots of time together. I stayed at his house Friday night and slept on his tile floor. Amazingly enough, though, I ended up getting sleep. When we decided to get up, he went and took a shower and I jumped up on his bed and got about a half hour of sleep, seeming to erase the whole night's discomfort. I wasn't even stiff or sore the next day. Joey and I hung out until Saturday evening. We cooked out at my house and watched Freedom Writers that afternoon.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Freedom Writers is &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;definitely &lt;/span&gt;recommendable. It's not a really artsy movie, but there are plenty of good movies made by people other than Stanley Kubrick and Wes Anderson... though those ones are always good for more than one viewing. I guess I liked the movie a lot because of the way the teacher handled things. A good teacher. Recently I've taken interest in pursuing a teaching career, so it was definitely an encouragement. Plus, the movie spoke a lot about how &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;bad&lt;/span&gt; some kids' childhoods really are out there in the real world. Though I've heard a taste of bad childhoods before, this only went on the emphasize the reality some people have to face. And how blessed I am while I hardly pay attention.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Today was really weird. I wasn't myself at all. But it wasn't intentional at all. I could sense it from the moment I woke, too. I was full of new visions. The world was present and alive. One thing I've always dreamed of being able to do is to stop all "background thought" while I'm walking through life. Kind of like watching a movie... but &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;living &lt;/span&gt;it. Like seeing the world for the world and not what's underneath. It's foolish. I've always dreamed of being able to walk through the world, not thinking about it, not expecting anything to happen, and being surprised and shocked by everything, doing everything differently, and engulfing myself in every conversation with full interest. There's a foolish side and a good side. I guess I'm really dreaming of not having a bias, which would be a good thing; but at the same time, I'm dreaming of not having a conscience, a voice in my head, being alone. A bad thing. I'm going to investigate all of this.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyways, I worked two hours and was more clumsy than normal. Dropping things, bumping into things. I hardly said any words to anyone this afternoon. I began to get really tired. I hardly even thought about anything. This was lovely. It was like I forgot I was alive. I forgot I was here. Haha, like a high person. I returned to normal after an hour's sleep on returning from work and I'm only left with a few questions and some new thoughts. I'll make left and right out of this in the next couple of days.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;School starts tomorrow.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2541816896111662769-6511289614012903153?l=noahpippen.blogspot.com'/&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://noahpippen.blogspot.com/feeds/6511289614012903153/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2541816896111662769&amp;postID=6511289614012903153' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2541816896111662769/posts/default/6511289614012903153'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2541816896111662769/posts/default/6511289614012903153'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://noahpippen.blogspot.com/2007/01/this-weekend-was-sweet-basket-or.html' title='Like a dream.'/><author><name>Noah Pippen</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18212025759651055888</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='13103901897956232944'/></author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>0</thr:total></entry></feed>