Can't sleep. Tumblr finished. Facebook boring. Boyfriend asleep in same room so can't listen to music or watch anything with sound. Ended up here. These are just the ones I can remember.

1. ABUELA by Arthur Dorros,
2. ALEXANDER AND THE TERRIBLE, HORRIBLE, NO GOOD, VERY BAD DAY by Judith Viorst
3. ANANSI AND THE MOSS-COVERED ROCK by Eric A. Kimmel (not actually, but pretty sure I've read a different, Anansi book... I think that counts.)
4. ANDY AND THE LION by James Daugherty
5. BARK, GEORGE by Jules Feiffer
6. THE BOSSY GALLITO: A TRADITIONAL CUBAN FOLK TALE retold by Lucia M.Gonzalez; illustrated by Lulu Delacre
7. BREAD AND JAM FOR FRANCES by Russell Hoban; illustrated by Lillian Hoban
8. BROWN BEAR, BROWN BEAR, WHAT DO YOU SEE? by Bill Martin, Jr.; illustrated by Eric Carle
9. BRUNO MUNARI’S ABC by Bruno Munari
10. BUZ by Richard Egielski
11. CAPS FOR SALE; A TALE OF A PEDDLER, SOME MONKEYS AND THEIR MONKEY BUSINESS by Esphyr Slobodkina
12. THE CARROT SEED by Ruth Krauss; illustrated by Crockett Johnson
13. A CHAIR FOR MY MOTHER by Vera B. Williams
14. CHICKA CHICKA BOOM BOOM by Bill Martin, Jr. and John Archambault; illustrated by Lois Ehlert
15. CLICK, CLACK, MOO : COWS THAT TYPE / by Doreen Cronin
16. COME ALONG, DAISY! by Jane Simmons
17. CORDUROY by Don Freeman
18. CURIOUS GEORGE by H. A. Rey
19. DINOSAUR ROAR! by Paul Stickland and Henrietta
20. DON’T LET THE PIGEON DRIVE THE BUS! by Mo Willems
21. DUCK ON A BIKE by David Shannon
22. FIRE TRUCK by Peter Sís
23. FREIGHT TRAIN by Donald Crews
24. FROGGY GETS DRESSED by Jonathan London
25. THE GARDENER by Sarah Stewart
26. GEORGE AND MARTHA by James Marshall
27. GO AWAY, BIG GREEN MONSTER! by Ed Emberley
28. GOIN’ SOMEPLACE SPECIAL by Patricia McKissack
29. GOOD NIGHT, GORILLA by Peggy Rathmann
30. GOODNIGHT MOON by Margaret W. Brown; illustrated by Clement Hurd
31. GOSSIE by Dunrea Olivier
32. GRANDFATHER’S JOURNEY by Allen Say
33. HAROLD AND THE PURPLE CRAYON by Crockett Johnson
34. HARRY THE DIRTY DOG by Gene Zion ; illustrated by Margaret Graham
35. HENRY HIKES TO FITCHBURG by D. B. (Donald B.) Johnson
36. HORTON HATCHES THE EGG by Dr.Seuss
37. HOW DO DINOSAURS SAY GOOD NIGHT? by Jane Yolen
38. I KISSED THE BABY! by Mary Murphy
39. IF YOU GIVE A MOUSE A COOKIE by Laura J. Numeroff
40. IT COULD ALWAYS BE WORSE: A YIDDISH FOLKTALE retold and illustrated by Margot Zemach
41. JOHN HENRY by Julius Lester; illustrated by Jerry Pinkney
42. JULIUS by Angela Johnson ; illustrated by Dav Pilkey
43. KITTEN’S FIRST FULL MOON by Kevin Henkes
44. LILLY’S PURPLE PLASTIC PURSE by Kevin Henkes
45. THE LINE-UP BOOK by Russo Marisabina
46. THE LITTLE RED HEN: AN OLD STORY by Margot Zemach
47. LON PO PO: A RED RIDING HOOD STORY FROM CHINA by Ed Young
48. LYLE, LYLE, CROCODILE by Bernard Waber
49. MABELA THE CLEVER by Margaret Read MacDonald
50. MACHINES AT WORK by Byron Barton
51. MADELINE by Ludwig Bemelmans
52. MAISY GOES SWIMMING by Lucy Cousins
53. MAKE WAY FOR DUCKLINGS by Robert McCloskey
54. MAMA CAT HAS THREE KITTENS by Denise Fleming
55. THE MAN WHO WALKED BETWEEN THE TOWERS by Mordicai Gerstein
56. MARTHA SPEAKS by Susan Meddaugh
57. MIKE MULLIGAN AND HIS STEAM SHOVEL by Virginia L. Burton
58. MILLIONS OF CATS by Wanda Gág
59. MISS NELSON IS MISSING! by Harry Allard and James Marshall
60. MR. GUMPY’S OUTING by John Birmingham
61. MUFARO’S BEAUTIFUL DAUGHTERS: AN AFRICAN TALE retold and illustrated by John Steptoe
62. MUNCHA! MUNCHA! MUNCHA! by Candace Fleming
63. MY FRIEND RABBIT by Eric Rohmann
64. THE NAPPING HOUSE by Audrey Wood
65. NO, DAVID! by David Shannon
66. OFF TO SCHOOL, BABY DUCK! by Amy Hest
67. OLD BLACK FLY by Jim Aylesworth
68. OLIVIA by Ian Falconer
69. OWEN by Kevin Henkes
70. PAPA, PLEASE GET THE MOON FOR ME by Eric Carle
71. PIERRE: A CAUTIONARY TALE by Maurice Sendak
72. THE POLAR EXPRESS by Chris Van Allsburg
73. PUSS IN BOOTS by Charles Perrault
74. THE RANDOM HOUSE BOOK OF MOTHER GOOSE: A TREASURY OF 386 TIMELESS NURSERY RHYMES by Arnold Lobel
75. ROUND TRIP by Ann Jonas
76. RUMPELSTILTSKIN by Paul O. Zelinsky
77. THE SNOWY DAY by Ezra Jack Keats
78. SPOTS, FEATHERS AND CURLY TAILS by Nancy Tafuri
79. THE STORY OF FERDINAND by Munro Leaf
80. THE STRAY DOG Marc, Simont
81. STREGA NONA by Tomie De Paola
82. SWIMMY by Leo Lionni
83. SYLVESTER AND THE MAGIC PEBBLE by William Steig
84. THE TALE OF PETER RABBIT by Beatrix Potter
85. TAR BEACH by Faith Ringgold
86. TEN, NINE, EIGHT by Molly Bang
87. THERE WAS AN OLD LADY WHO SWALLOWED A FLY by Simms Taback
88. THE THREE BEARS by Paul Galdone
89. TRASHY TOWN by Andrea Griffing Zimmerman
90. THE TRUE STORY OF THE THREE LITTLE PIGS BY A. WOLF by John Scieszka
    
91. TUESDAY by David Wiesner
92. UPTOWN by Collier Bryan
93. THE VERY HUNGRY CATERPILLAR by Eric Carle
94. THE WHEELS ON THE BUS adapted and illustrated by Paul O. Zelinsky
95. WHERE THE WILD THINGS ARE by Maurice Sendak
96. WHERE’S SPOT? by Eric Hill
97. WHISTLE FOR WILLIE by Ezra Jack Keats
98. THE WOLF’S CHICKEN STEW by Keiko Kasza
99. YOKO by Rosemary Wells
100. ZOMO THE RABBIT: A TRICKSTER TALE FROM WEST AFRICA retold and illustrated by Gerald McDermott

I can honestly say that, these days, I never forget how blessed my life is. And that, I guess, is how I know I am happy with my life.

For the past two days the wind has been tearing through Portland: through the big cedar tree in the yard outside our window, against our living room window.

I've spent a week depressed or panicking, back and forth between the two. Last night I realized that 90% of my mind is full of things I am unable to think about - I think it would tear through my skeleton more fierce than the wind outside and leave me scattered for good - and that leave me a total of 10% of my brain to work and live with. No wonder I feel fuzzy.

Today, after a week of only writing two things ($16), I wrote another $8 piece and then got accepted for two new jobs. I'm back in the swing of things. All my doubt this past week that I was going to bail on writing just like I do with everything (well, everything but depression) is gone. My gump, as we say around here (it stands for gumption), is back.

The sun was beautiful yesterday, shining boldly down on the top of the church with the cross that we can see right out from our window. It's not as vivid today, but it is more beautiful today, because I can actually feel it.

The moments I am present with myself, I am happier than I can ever remember being or ever have imagined. These present moments are few and far between but they are how I know I am happy with my life.

People never ask you if you still care. They just tell you - stories, anecdotes, milestones achieved. They don't ask if how you felt about this person to begin with, if you loved them or not, if you even cared about them or not. They hear you used to know them and they assume - they assume you want to know all about them.

I never really cared. I don't want to hear the stories. Ask next time.

Something has shifted. A week ago I couldn't visualize a day-to-day life I both wanted to live and thought possible. Today, I have this image in my head - not just of me being happy with my life, but actual actions I'd be doing: getting a degree in graphics, working at PSF, going to therapy a lot. I know, I know, I know I want to do graphics...what's holding me back from working on a degree is that (1) I don't feel like I can fully appreciate and soak up classes I'd take right and (2) that I know, once I had the degree, I don't have the self-confidence to feel capable at any sort of job involving graphics. And also I have realized that part of what holds me to Portland right now is PSF. I love working there. Ideally, I'll become saner at some point in the next year or two and be able to get my old job back, or just keep doing what I'm doing now and have another job or work more hours...I need to be able to visualize being able to support myself.

I am so depressed. I keep almost-crying. There is something shut down inside of me. But I have been drawing these past two days more than I have in the past 6 months. I have been creating. I want to learn about <div> tags. I want to take a graphics or computer class next semester. It's funny that even though the ache there is somehow more interest to live.

I have woken up more depressed than I've been in years. I feel like the more I tell myself it's safe to be present, the more I lose my coping mechanisms. What ever happened to being so distant from life that I could get through the day?

This morning I came back from my 8am therapy appointment and went back to sleep. I woke up around 10 but my head wouldn't wake up so I decided to skip my 11am class (I never do this). I then proceeded to have two hours of no-rest sleep with the most vivid images, one after another. The one I remember the best was looking across the plaza of a museum my mum and I went to see in San Cristobal, Chiapas, and there was this very black-skinned man and he looked up at me and his eyes were golden. I reached up and cut my throat horizantally and liquid gold poured out. It turned into yellow tempera paint. There was no fear. A little big of awe when I felt the gold pour out of my throat. I was in first person.

Latest inner-monologue gem: "This job would be done better by a decoated bobbypinnned newt." (I was working with a bunch of crates of hardware and was getting hot and my hair kept falling in my face.) Newt Taricha Decoatus Bobbypinnae.

It has long been believed that newts are not inherently social animals, but recent developments in one newt's life suggest that they might not just be social creatures, but enjoy their social interactions, the Newtian Gazette reported Wednesday.

Do you feel different from the rest of the world? Do you know anyone who doesn't? Do you think some people really are "different"?