Balloon colored party hats and kazoos filled the desks this Friday morning as the rain pattered against the nonexistent windows within my classroom. Today was a class Pittsburgh day. A day that always reminds us that while the world may look like it is crying on the outside, it is simply making sure we are smiling on the inside. 

For me, there was a quiet "at ease" feeling today as I dodged from my apartment to my car and my car to my classroom without an umbrella. The rain offered clarity instead of a muddiness that you get when you walk right into a puddle you miss completely. It was this sense of washing away something bad and replacing it with something good. A new spirit. New desk formations. A new look. 

I became aware of the concept of an unbirthday when I first listened to the song during my fifth grade performance as Dweedle Dum in our school play in 5th grade. I remember it being strange. The song is weird. Almost bizarre. But then again, so is this sense of celebrating something that maybe isn't quite ready to be celebrated or should not be celebrated and so you are caught off guard in wanting to celebrate (of course) but also simultaneously not being "in the mood to do so."

The party hats and kazoos, smiles but also large tears of rain were a reminder that celebration can happen even when the past week or so has felt a bit deary. A bit mushy. The ground too soggy and that Spring air more musty than fresh. But as whimsy always requires us to do: we must celebrate in the midst of sogginess even when it feels strange. Or off-kilter. Or even a little bizarre at times. A Very Merry Ubirthday to everyone who creates a celebration even when it feels like there are none to be had.