I am officially "over 40." On October 4, I turned 41 years old. Now, I don't have anything against being in the "over 40" crowd, except this is truly the first year I have ever felt my age. Most of the time I hover around in the range of a twenty-something in my head, and only attempt to be adult-like in a work-type situation (and even then, on certain days, not-so-much). That being said, I thought I would share some interesting trivia about my birthday.

Fun Facts: October 4, 1968

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The number one song on the day I was born was "Hey Jude" by the Beatles.

Janis Joplin appeared on Hollywood Palace TV show.

One dozen eggs cost 53 cents.

Luis Walter Alvarez won the Nobel Prize for his work in elementary particle physics.

My date of conception was on or about 12 January 1968 which was a Friday.

I was born on a Friday under the astrological sign Libra.

My fortune cookie reads:

None of the secrets of success will work unless you do.

Life Path Number:

"Mine goes to eleven."

As the first of the Master Numbers, I am the Master Student, the idealist who is on a quest for meaning. A seeker of truth, I am willing to jump into any class, teaching, or walk of life that offers potential hope and insight. Others look to me for guidance and I am a natural instructor. There are times when my enthusiasm borders on fanaticism and becomes tiring, but listening to my keen intuition can thwart problems in this area. The life I lead will be the ultimate teaching you impart to the world.

Number 11 also reduces to a number 2, and 11s must learn the lessons of cooperation before they can serve as a voice of inspiration for others. It is the special task of 11s to keep the dreams, visions, and hopes of others alive.

Life Path Compatibility:
I am most compatible with those with the Life Path numbers 2, 4, 8, 11 & 22.
I should get along well with those with the Life Path numbers 3 & 6.
I may or may not get along well with those with the Life Path number 9.
I am least compatible with those with the Life Path numbers 1, 5 & 7.

The Julian calendar date of my birth is 2440133.5. Under the Julian calendar, 19 years were assumed to be exactly an integral number of synodic months, and the following relationship
exists between the Golden Number and the Epact:

Epact = (11 * (GoldenNumber-1)) mod 30

The golden number for 1968 is 12.
The epact number for 1968 is 0.

The year 1968 was a leap year.

My birthday falls into the Chinese year beginning 1/30/1968 and ending 2/16/1969.
I was born in the Chinese year of the Monkey (my mom always used to call me "monkey-marie" because I was always climbing trees).

My Native American Zodiac sign is Raven.

My plant is Ivy.

I was born in the Egyptian month of Choiach, the fourth month of the season of Poret (Emergence - Fertile soil).

My date of birth on the Hebrew calendar is 12 Tishri 5729.

The Mayan Calendar long count date of my birthday is 12.17.15.2.9 which is
12 baktun 17 katun 15 tun 2 uinal 9 kin

The Hijra (Islamic Calendar) date of my birth is Friday, 11 Rajab 1388 (1388-7-11).

The date of Easter on my birth year was Sunday, 14 April 1968.
The date of Orthodox Easter on my birth year was Sunday, 21 April 1968.

The date of Ash Wednesday (the first day of Lent) on my birth year was Wednesday 28 February 1968.

The date of Whitsun (Pentecost Sunday) in the year of my birth was Sunday 2 June 1968.
The date of Whisuntide in the year of my birth was Sunday 9 June 1968.

The date of Rosh Hashanah in the year of my birth was Monday, 23 September 1968.

The date of Passover in the year of my birth was Saturday, 13 April 1968.

The date of Mardi Gras on my birth year was Tuesday 27 February 1968.

Several Species of Small Furry Animals Gathered Together in a Cave and Grooving with a Pict or Why I Have an Unnatural Obsession for David Gilmour…

Re-post: from November 08, 2008

Stephen stumped me in music trivia yesterday. I mention this because, not only is this a very rare occasion, it was something that anyone who knows me would think that I would know…but I didn't. I have a dirty little secret. A Pink Floyd secret. I only own two of their CDs; Dark Side of the Moon and Delicate Sound of Thunder, which is a live double album that features an extensive body of their work. So shoot me. That being said, you pretty much guessed that my musical knowledge faltered due to the aforementioned PF song at the title of my blog, which isn't really a song per se, just Roger Waters making a lot of weird sounds in a very rhythmic quality. I heard this for the very first time today. I did, however, pick out some of the similar sounds that were the beginnings of what I think I hear on the songs "Money" and "Comfortably Numb". Which leads me to the second purpose of my blog: Did you know that David Gilmour turned 62 this year? Wow. My friend Misha writes a blog and has mentioned a game called Hump Island…David Gilmour would be my male celebrity, over 50, philanthropist, guitar hero, Renaissance man.
I don't remember the first time I saw a picture of David Gilmour. Pink Floyd has been around since before I was born, but I will never forget that face…When I was a young girl, I did not really know of his insipid-yet hypnotic vocal influence, nor his concentrated genius level guitar playing…all I knew was that face, which I'm pretty sure I saw on an album cover over at Holly Boman's house. Her parents had the coolest record collection: my parents, not so much. What I did have when I was a little girl, was a mom that used to read me a children's Bible, or maybe it could have been a 1960s hippie rock and roll Bible, because within it contained drawings of an auburn-haired Grecian God that was reminiscent of a circa 1973s David Gilmour…

Whoa, Nelly. I don't know if I transferred some kind of monotheistic Jesus-like qualities to David Gilmour, but this is pretty much what I pictured in my mind when I sang "Yes Jesus Loves Me," as a wee lass. Yes…Jesus, love…me! I know you must be thinking, impure thoughts at such a young age, Martha? Tsk, Tsk. Well, not really, but you have to admit the hotness factor, and the capacity for love that little girls have for all things pretty. I mean look at the guy…all tousled like he just rolled out of bed with that come hither look on his face…Total Rock Star, a la Andrew Lloyd Webber, man. That being said, I have this very recurring sexual dream with David Gilmour in it, and my subconscious mind being a veritable cacophony of music and imagery of my previous day, I had another DG dream. It always starts out the same way…I'm in seventh grade and I am at a party at some Victorian house on the west side of First street in Benicia (this was the house that I attended my very first "pot" party with Denise Francom and another girl whose name escapes me at the moment…was it Alicia Adams? I cannot remember). Anyway, the most I did at this party was smoked cigarettes and listened to Stairway to Heaven, Freebird, Comfortably Numb, then was too scared to try anything else, so I eventually walked home. However, at this party, I remember looking at a Pink Floyd album cover rather intently, and there was David Gilmour…most of the guys at this party were sporting some kind of similar look, and the temptation to make out with one of them was pretty high, but I was too scared of Mr. Romer to try anything so silly. He knew who all of the troublemakers in town were, and I knew these guys were on the top of his list. My point to all of this is that I can pinpoint my recurring dream of David Gilmour to this moment in my impetuous youth, as I was surrounded by all the cliché temptations of sex, drugs, and rock-n-roll, as it were. The dream always starts out in this Victorian house, with Breathe in the Air playing somewhere in the background. "Run, rabbit run; Dig that hole, forget the sun; And when at last the work is done; Don't sit down;
It's time to dig another one." Somewhere it changes to a laser light show, and I am lying on a beanbag looking up in a planetarium snuggled up to DG, and "stuff" starts happening. There are various incarnations of this dream, like being in a poppy field, or chained up in a labyrinth (just picture any avant-garde 1970s rock album cover) but I always wake up before "THE DEED" and always a bit out of breath, in need of a glass of water. And I breathe in the air…

I thought that this was a sign of the apocolypse, but then I remembered...

The Jonas Brothers. Yikes. I know, teen heartthrobs. I get it. Been there. I was fully convinced in 10th grade that I was going to marry Roger Taylor. But when I see this Dickensian-Unibrowed, prepubescent bubblegum spewing twerps on the cover of my Rolling Stone magazine, I thought, OK, now it's time to start stock piling canned goods and mass weaponry, because certainly this is the end of the world as we know it, right? And I do NOT feel fine...but then I remembered my 10th grade OCD, and getting excited about DD being on the cover of Rolling Stone, thinking, "YES!! They made it!!"



And MANY true rock n roll fans stating similarly...No way. Not on MY Rolling Stone Magazine!!!

But...did you know who also sported the covers of this legendary "legit" rock n roll publication?



Yep.



Ahem.

Maybe I'm just gettin' old.

"Hey you rowdy kids, get off my lawn!!!"