You know that feeling when you're really looking forward to something, counting down the days and then the hours until it comes to pass, and then it's an hour until it happens... and then it's 2 hours later and nothing's happened still, and then... another hour passes, and what you thought was going to be really awesome finally happens, and it isn't as great as you thought it was going to be?
That's how I feel today. And at this point in life in general.
Wednesday, July 25, 2012
Friday, June 15, 2012
Waking Up Early
There's something to be said for the lazy Saturdays... you know the ones. The days where you roll over at 7:00 to the dog biting at your toe and you kick him away, roll over, and go back to sleep. You wake up again at 9:00 because your bladder is completely full, and you weigh the options of getting up to pee, which requires leaving the warm comfy bed, and staying in bed for another hour. You obviously choose the latter, and you only wake up again at 11:00 because your spouse is returning from the store, having already mowed the lawn, eaten breakfast, and run to the hardware store to start another project? Mmm, yes, there's something to be said about sleeping in.
I woke up early today, though - the one day this week that I could have slept in, and WOW! Now there's something to talk about! (Granted, I woke up at 4:00 because I couldn't sleep, not because I was dying to be productive, but I made the best of it). It's 7:00 am, and I've already showered, packed for a vacation, fed the animals, cleaned the house, crocheted until I ran out of yarn, and am halfway through my first cup of coffee. I think I saw the first bird on the birdfeeder this morning (a male house finch, if you're curious). I saw the horizon brighten and heard the birds awaken. I have a whole day ahead of myself; I could read, write, exercise, or even go back to bed. It's a whole different life pre-9:00 am on a weekend day.
I'll have to try this waking up early thing more often.
I woke up early today, though - the one day this week that I could have slept in, and WOW! Now there's something to talk about! (Granted, I woke up at 4:00 because I couldn't sleep, not because I was dying to be productive, but I made the best of it). It's 7:00 am, and I've already showered, packed for a vacation, fed the animals, cleaned the house, crocheted until I ran out of yarn, and am halfway through my first cup of coffee. I think I saw the first bird on the birdfeeder this morning (a male house finch, if you're curious). I saw the horizon brighten and heard the birds awaken. I have a whole day ahead of myself; I could read, write, exercise, or even go back to bed. It's a whole different life pre-9:00 am on a weekend day.
I'll have to try this waking up early thing more often.
Thursday, May 31, 2012
Awesome Olfactory Auras
Is there anything better than the smell of Jasmine tea brewing? Mmmm, I love Jasmine tea pearls. I'm currently at a coffee shop that serves jasmine tea bags with actual jasmine pearls in "single silken satchets," very classy, if you ask me. The company is Harney & Sons: Master Tea Blenders - located in Salisbury, Connecticut.
Back to olfactory sensations; what are the best fragrances in the world? As I mentioned, I love the smell of jasmine tea - I would wear it as a scent if someone found a true-to-life parfume. Another of my favorite smells is gardenia, and you can find this for cheap at any parfumerie. Cheap or expensive, it's always delicious. I even ran across a gardenia tree at the local gardening shop in town and, despite the fact that the flowers were wilting, they still smelled just as delicious as my mom used to when I was a child and she wore gardenia (which is probably why I'm so fond of it in the first place).
As a sidenote, if you're ever in New Orleans and you're looking for perfume, I highly suggest Hove Parfumeur. I was first introduced to Hove in Tom Robbins' Jitterbug Perfume, in which it is thinly disguised as the "Parfumerie Devalier," run by the 'Queen of the Good Smells,' Madame Devalier, and is described as a producer of "moon medicine and jazz powders. Lucky root and come-together potent. Mojo cream and loa lotion. Hurricane drops, kill-me-not juice, coonass courting pomade and a special 'oil of midnight' that had nothing to do with overtime at the office" (9). Even more urgent than my recommendation that you visit Hove, I implore you to stop whatever you're doing, cast away whatever garbage you might be reading at the moment, and read Jitterbug Perfume. It's a lovely little ditty. And if you ever run across the Jamaican Jasmine so highly sought after in Robbins' parfumerie, buy all you can, and send me some!
I see I have again wandered away from my original intent, which was to compile a list of my favorite smells. I hope my list is slightly more interesting than the lists I have found online, which are predictable and cliched. A baby's smell, really? One's own smelly pillow? Though I've heard that smells are the most acute memory triggers, I will make a conscious effort not to let pleasant memories block my olfactory sensors. So, here's my valiant attempt:
- jasmine tea
- gardenia
- the aftersmell of basil after touching a live basil plant
- freshly baked granola
- the breath of a handsome man who has recently (but not too recently) smoked a cigarette and is probably drinking a cocktail as well...
(man, this is hard...)
I can think of a lot of disgusting smells:
-- a newly smashed lady bug
-- the rubber face of an old Cabbage Patch Kid
-- coffee breath
-- dog poo
-- cigarette smoke
-- sulfur at hot springs and other variations of boiled egg in nature (ie - showers in certain vacation locales)
And I can think of smells I, personally, like:
-- gasoline
-- sharpie
-- the sulfur of a struck match
But coming up with universally superior smells, maybe I should leave that to the professional smellers out there.
Back to olfactory sensations; what are the best fragrances in the world? As I mentioned, I love the smell of jasmine tea - I would wear it as a scent if someone found a true-to-life parfume. Another of my favorite smells is gardenia, and you can find this for cheap at any parfumerie. Cheap or expensive, it's always delicious. I even ran across a gardenia tree at the local gardening shop in town and, despite the fact that the flowers were wilting, they still smelled just as delicious as my mom used to when I was a child and she wore gardenia (which is probably why I'm so fond of it in the first place).
As a sidenote, if you're ever in New Orleans and you're looking for perfume, I highly suggest Hove Parfumeur. I was first introduced to Hove in Tom Robbins' Jitterbug Perfume, in which it is thinly disguised as the "Parfumerie Devalier," run by the 'Queen of the Good Smells,' Madame Devalier, and is described as a producer of "moon medicine and jazz powders. Lucky root and come-together potent. Mojo cream and loa lotion. Hurricane drops, kill-me-not juice, coonass courting pomade and a special 'oil of midnight' that had nothing to do with overtime at the office" (9). Even more urgent than my recommendation that you visit Hove, I implore you to stop whatever you're doing, cast away whatever garbage you might be reading at the moment, and read Jitterbug Perfume. It's a lovely little ditty. And if you ever run across the Jamaican Jasmine so highly sought after in Robbins' parfumerie, buy all you can, and send me some!
I see I have again wandered away from my original intent, which was to compile a list of my favorite smells. I hope my list is slightly more interesting than the lists I have found online, which are predictable and cliched. A baby's smell, really? One's own smelly pillow? Though I've heard that smells are the most acute memory triggers, I will make a conscious effort not to let pleasant memories block my olfactory sensors. So, here's my valiant attempt:
- jasmine tea
- gardenia
- the aftersmell of basil after touching a live basil plant
- freshly baked granola
- the breath of a handsome man who has recently (but not too recently) smoked a cigarette and is probably drinking a cocktail as well...
(man, this is hard...)
I can think of a lot of disgusting smells:
-- a newly smashed lady bug
-- the rubber face of an old Cabbage Patch Kid
-- coffee breath
-- dog poo
-- cigarette smoke
-- sulfur at hot springs and other variations of boiled egg in nature (ie - showers in certain vacation locales)
And I can think of smells I, personally, like:
-- gasoline
-- sharpie
-- the sulfur of a struck match
But coming up with universally superior smells, maybe I should leave that to the professional smellers out there.
Sunday, May 27, 2012
Drinking Game for Overthinkers
The Drinking Game for Overthinkers struck a chord with me today, especially as I am in the early stages of trying to moderate my summer relaxation vs. indulgence for the next 70 days, as well as quitting my doctor-approved, Wyeth-endorsed medication of 1+ years cold turkey and suffering the dauntingly severe withdrawal symptoms.
Needless to say, I'm a doll to be around, and nothing sounds like a better idea than an intellectual drinking game, though my physical, psychological, and digestive systems are protesting. Therefore, I will compromise: one drink while I praise (or maybe sympathize with would be a more appropriate term), Leigh Alexander's latest addition to "Thought Catalog."
First of all, let me say that I love the way Ms. Alexander captures the mid-20's drinking conundrum in a vague yet incriminating way. She has not named me or my problems outright, but she may as well have when she suggests that I might feel "a vague sense of inequity or deprivation" but not "have a template for whether [my] expectations are fair." Right on, Leigh - given my upper-middle class upbringing plus white female college-educated privileges, I really have no other experiences to gauge the grandiosity of the inequities and deprivations either in my own life or that I witness on the street (or on TV, more likely). Therefore, I drink!
Needless to say, I'm a doll to be around, and nothing sounds like a better idea than an intellectual drinking game, though my physical, psychological, and digestive systems are protesting. Therefore, I will compromise: one drink while I praise (or maybe sympathize with would be a more appropriate term), Leigh Alexander's latest addition to "Thought Catalog."
First of all, let me say that I love the way Ms. Alexander captures the mid-20's drinking conundrum in a vague yet incriminating way. She has not named me or my problems outright, but she may as well have when she suggests that I might feel "a vague sense of inequity or deprivation" but not "have a template for whether [my] expectations are fair." Right on, Leigh - given my upper-middle class upbringing plus white female college-educated privileges, I really have no other experiences to gauge the grandiosity of the inequities and deprivations either in my own life or that I witness on the street (or on TV, more likely). Therefore, I drink!
Ms. Alexander also makes a number of astute accusations when she suggests I might not be sure "whether the lingering sensation that [I'm not] liked enough is a rational response to unfair circumstances or is in fact symptomatic of [my] tendency to blame [my] environment for [my] own failure to self-actualize," and that I just might "experience a sudden flood of shame at the realization that [I] haven’t done much to deserve really any of the things to which [I] aspire." I have often "come to an impasse about chaos and the innate unfairness of life," and I never know if my shortcomings are my fault because of "projecting unfounded qualities onto [another] person or someone else's fault for actually misleading [me], mistreating [me] or letting [me] down."
In addition to the horror of it all possibly being not my own fault, I will confess that I constantly "notice that [I] unconsciously but consistently put [myself] into situations that deprive [me] of [my] resources and move [me] further away from [my] goals," which, undoubtedly, causes me to wonder if "[I'm] actually in a negative situation or just an ungrateful person who blames everyone else for [my] problems," if I am, indeed, "assuming too much responsibility for [my] own current unhappiness or not," which leads to the question of whether "[I] am an overly-strict person with inappropriate guilt about normal human self-moderation behavior or an avoidant adult making excuses for [my] poor coping" who is persistently "failing to grow up."
In fact, Leigh, now that we are talking about it, considering I have a full-time job in the real world, whatever that means, and I am a mortgage-paying home owner, I do wonder if "[I am] repeatedly failing to reach a personal set of behavioral goals or simply consistently feeling inadequate no matter how hard [I] work." And if that, Leigh, is the problem, is the fact that I "don't want to talk to [my] friends about it because [I'm] not sure whether [I] am a reasonable person experiencing occasional insecurity or a neurotic person who cannot be soothed" also a problem? Might it be true that I do "not even have much reason to be unhappy and in fact just overthink everything and lack a stable internal compass," that "[I] might just feel lost because [I] drink too often, but then [I] think too much when [I'm] not drinking"?
Now that you've brought all those complications to light, I feel like "[I’d] rather not think about this kind of thing right now," and, on that note, Leigh, I think I deserve a second drink. What about you?
Wednesday, May 16, 2012
I Scream for Ice Cream!
I miss eating ice cream; I mean really eating ice cream.
I had a bad day today (entirely my fault - too much wine last night = pounding headache all day. Imagine a hangover when you're surrounded by freshman students a week before school's out. That was my day). Anyway, I came home knowing I deserved a snack. There was nothing salty in the house; my husband and I often have saltines or tortilla chips laying around, even though we try not to snack too much. In fact, I just acquired a tasty, locally made black bean and corn salsa last night and even considered stopping by the store to get some chips, but the headache got the best of me. I made it home with just enough energy to let the dog out, walk upstairs, pour a glass of water, and plop on the bed with a good book until my husband got home.
When he did, I immediately asked him, "What's for snack?"
We went through a few options:
"Pasta?"
"Ate it all yesterday."
"Cheese and crackers?"
"No crackers. And no chips for the salsa Cheryl gave us."
Which got us back to the original question:
"What is for snack?"
He left the room to finish cooking the menudo for dinner (but that's for another post), and I grudgingly followed him into the kitchen. And on the way down the stairs, it occurred to me - the perfect post-hangover snack in a snackless house: chocolate ice cream!
I rushed to the kitchen to see if we had any toppings for the ice cream (I was mostly checking for Hershey's Syrup), but to no avail. That's OK. Plain chocolate ice cream is good enough for me any day. In fact, being that we don't partake in artificial desserts very often, the pint of ice cream that's been in our freezer has been quite a treat lately. I scooped myself out a generous serving and settled in the dining room to enjoy it.
The meager scoops of joy I had served myself went quickly, though, more quickly than my desire to consume more ice cream, so I returned to the kitchen for seconds, and then it occurred to me, "And why shouldn't I? I'm an adult, and I deserve ice cream! And I don't need to explain or apologize to anyone! And so what if I want to put peanut butter in my ice cream and top it off with stale, sweet coconut flakes that have been in the fridge for more than I care to admit?" And then I did just that.
And that brings me back to the original intent of my post, which is to say that I miss partaking of gratifying meals (or desserts) unapologetically. So often, in today's Western society, simply because we are no longer children, and because we work full-time jobs, and because we are expected to be "responsible adults," we don't allow ourselves to indulge in such luxuries. No, we sell ourselves short and compromise for something we don't really want, like a Skinny Cow, or a Snackwell's cookie when what we really want is a ginormous ice cream sunday with chocolate AND caramel syrup, whipped cream, bananas, and nuts, or oozy, gooey brownies, soft in the middle and finished off with Vanilla Bean ice cream, full-fat, please! And what for? For a mote of the satisfaction we would otherwise get by indulging every now and again?
Now, I'm not saying we should give in to every unhealthy craving we have. No, health is a lifestyle, and being healthy is about training your body not to crave McDonald's and 44 oz. Big Gulp Mountain Dews from QuikTrip by not consuming these atrocities on a regular basis (or ever - ew - McDonald's and MD - the worst two foods I could think of!), but I don't see anything wrong with allowing yourself an ambrosial snack every now and then. In fact, I think it's detrimental to all of our children within every time we try to fool them into thinking a Snackwell's cookie is a gooey home-made brownie. Shame on us, society.
I had a bad day today (entirely my fault - too much wine last night = pounding headache all day. Imagine a hangover when you're surrounded by freshman students a week before school's out. That was my day). Anyway, I came home knowing I deserved a snack. There was nothing salty in the house; my husband and I often have saltines or tortilla chips laying around, even though we try not to snack too much. In fact, I just acquired a tasty, locally made black bean and corn salsa last night and even considered stopping by the store to get some chips, but the headache got the best of me. I made it home with just enough energy to let the dog out, walk upstairs, pour a glass of water, and plop on the bed with a good book until my husband got home.
When he did, I immediately asked him, "What's for snack?"
We went through a few options:
"Pasta?"
"Ate it all yesterday."
"Cheese and crackers?"
"No crackers. And no chips for the salsa Cheryl gave us."
Which got us back to the original question:
"What is for snack?"
He left the room to finish cooking the menudo for dinner (but that's for another post), and I grudgingly followed him into the kitchen. And on the way down the stairs, it occurred to me - the perfect post-hangover snack in a snackless house: chocolate ice cream!
I rushed to the kitchen to see if we had any toppings for the ice cream (I was mostly checking for Hershey's Syrup), but to no avail. That's OK. Plain chocolate ice cream is good enough for me any day. In fact, being that we don't partake in artificial desserts very often, the pint of ice cream that's been in our freezer has been quite a treat lately. I scooped myself out a generous serving and settled in the dining room to enjoy it.
The meager scoops of joy I had served myself went quickly, though, more quickly than my desire to consume more ice cream, so I returned to the kitchen for seconds, and then it occurred to me, "And why shouldn't I? I'm an adult, and I deserve ice cream! And I don't need to explain or apologize to anyone! And so what if I want to put peanut butter in my ice cream and top it off with stale, sweet coconut flakes that have been in the fridge for more than I care to admit?" And then I did just that.
And that brings me back to the original intent of my post, which is to say that I miss partaking of gratifying meals (or desserts) unapologetically. So often, in today's Western society, simply because we are no longer children, and because we work full-time jobs, and because we are expected to be "responsible adults," we don't allow ourselves to indulge in such luxuries. No, we sell ourselves short and compromise for something we don't really want, like a Skinny Cow, or a Snackwell's cookie when what we really want is a ginormous ice cream sunday with chocolate AND caramel syrup, whipped cream, bananas, and nuts, or oozy, gooey brownies, soft in the middle and finished off with Vanilla Bean ice cream, full-fat, please! And what for? For a mote of the satisfaction we would otherwise get by indulging every now and again?
Now, I'm not saying we should give in to every unhealthy craving we have. No, health is a lifestyle, and being healthy is about training your body not to crave McDonald's and 44 oz. Big Gulp Mountain Dews from QuikTrip by not consuming these atrocities on a regular basis (or ever - ew - McDonald's and MD - the worst two foods I could think of!), but I don't see anything wrong with allowing yourself an ambrosial snack every now and then. In fact, I think it's detrimental to all of our children within every time we try to fool them into thinking a Snackwell's cookie is a gooey home-made brownie. Shame on us, society.
Wednesday, May 9, 2012
Republicans, Get in My Vagina!
I'm not usually a proponent of funnyordie.com, but this is pretty spot-on. Plus, I like that it really twists the dagger with the imagery behind the women. Watch and I will discuss more.
First of all, I love Kate Beckensale with her faux-suit on (probably heels and Express slacks, wait, no, she'd definitely be wearing designer name-brand), her sensible brown hair, and her SUV, all posing in front of her undoubtedly suburban mansion.
Secondly, "I don't want government in my banks..." "I don't want government in my classrooms," are both well-said. Republicans DON'T want the government getting involved with the handling of their taxes (or tax breaks), their loans, or the handling of their children's education (as everyone knows the state can be trusted to tell teachers what they should and shouldn't teach -- i.e., the antiquated, Western WASP agenda), nor do they want the government dispersing the taxes from their wealthy zip codes to the districts of the less fortunate children of America. No, "I want the government way, way deep, up, up there in my vagina." And I love the gasp of fresh air immediately preceding the proud declaration: "In my great-grandmother's vagina."
Thirdly -- "What about my right to choose to not have a choice," is, unfortunately, the stance I feel so many females taking these days, especially conservative women who don't want to rock the boat in their relationship, their friendships, or the eyes of their colleagues and peers. I even hear high school-aged girls making statements that suggest they are proponents of "choosing to not have a choice." Why not let the old, white guys decide for us? Or our non-female spouses? Or, in the case of my high school students, the uneducated, poverty-stricken, not-yet-through-puberty-but-certainly-fertile-and-unwilling-to-wear-a-condom boyfriends choose? Why do (some) women so adamantly shirk the right to make our OWN choices?
Fourthly, though I don't really appreciate the lines about vaginas being "gushy... secret[ing] things... [or] looking like unshaven clown[s]," I know that some women feel that way. And some women honestly haven't ever "really looked at it." To those women, I'd strongly suggest immediately purchasing and reading The Vagina Monologues, if, at which point you become as hooked to Eve Ensler as I am, I suggest A Memory, A Monologue, A Rant and A Prayer as an immediate follow-up. Vaginas are not gross, gushy, scary, or unrelenting. They are delicate, intricate, delicious, individual, and complex. Check yours or your loved-ones out today!
Fifthly, I like that Judy Greer and Kate Beckinsale address the real issues at stake for women who choose to vote Republican on certain issues: restrictions on affordable birth control, futile vaginal ultrasounds, unwanted pregnancies, but I wish they weren't addressed so tongue-in-cheekedly; these are real issues, and while I agree that sometimes humor is the only way to recruit people to your side, I think women really need to know about these issues. I wish there was a link to a more informative website which compares democrats and republicans' views on women's rights (ie - Obama vs. Romney).
Finally - this quote at the end; whoa! Where did that come from? "The traumatic experience of rape causes a woman to 'secrete a certain secretion that tends to kill sperm.'" Really, Stephen Freind? Did you really say that?
So, yes, in closing -- Women -- defend your "oval office!" Don't let the government in! Vote Democratic!
(If this blog enraged you - I'm sorry. Please calm down by viewing a couple calming manatees on my new favorite tranquil site.)
First of all, I love Kate Beckensale with her faux-suit on (probably heels and Express slacks, wait, no, she'd definitely be wearing designer name-brand), her sensible brown hair, and her SUV, all posing in front of her undoubtedly suburban mansion.
Secondly, "I don't want government in my banks..." "I don't want government in my classrooms," are both well-said. Republicans DON'T want the government getting involved with the handling of their taxes (or tax breaks), their loans, or the handling of their children's education (as everyone knows the state can be trusted to tell teachers what they should and shouldn't teach -- i.e., the antiquated, Western WASP agenda), nor do they want the government dispersing the taxes from their wealthy zip codes to the districts of the less fortunate children of America. No, "I want the government way, way deep, up, up there in my vagina." And I love the gasp of fresh air immediately preceding the proud declaration: "In my great-grandmother's vagina."
Thirdly -- "What about my right to choose to not have a choice," is, unfortunately, the stance I feel so many females taking these days, especially conservative women who don't want to rock the boat in their relationship, their friendships, or the eyes of their colleagues and peers. I even hear high school-aged girls making statements that suggest they are proponents of "choosing to not have a choice." Why not let the old, white guys decide for us? Or our non-female spouses? Or, in the case of my high school students, the uneducated, poverty-stricken, not-yet-through-puberty-but-certainly-fertile-and-unwilling-to-wear-a-condom boyfriends choose? Why do (some) women so adamantly shirk the right to make our OWN choices?
Fourthly, though I don't really appreciate the lines about vaginas being "gushy... secret[ing] things... [or] looking like unshaven clown[s]," I know that some women feel that way. And some women honestly haven't ever "really looked at it." To those women, I'd strongly suggest immediately purchasing and reading The Vagina Monologues, if, at which point you become as hooked to Eve Ensler as I am, I suggest A Memory, A Monologue, A Rant and A Prayer as an immediate follow-up. Vaginas are not gross, gushy, scary, or unrelenting. They are delicate, intricate, delicious, individual, and complex. Check yours or your loved-ones out today!
Fifthly, I like that Judy Greer and Kate Beckinsale address the real issues at stake for women who choose to vote Republican on certain issues: restrictions on affordable birth control, futile vaginal ultrasounds, unwanted pregnancies, but I wish they weren't addressed so tongue-in-cheekedly; these are real issues, and while I agree that sometimes humor is the only way to recruit people to your side, I think women really need to know about these issues. I wish there was a link to a more informative website which compares democrats and republicans' views on women's rights (ie - Obama vs. Romney).
Finally - this quote at the end; whoa! Where did that come from? "The traumatic experience of rape causes a woman to 'secrete a certain secretion that tends to kill sperm.'" Really, Stephen Freind? Did you really say that?
So, yes, in closing -- Women -- defend your "oval office!" Don't let the government in! Vote Democratic!
(If this blog enraged you - I'm sorry. Please calm down by viewing a couple calming manatees on my new favorite tranquil site.)
Wednesday, May 2, 2012
Language Challenge
According to this chart, it should only take 6 months to learn any of the following languages:
- Spanish
- Portuguese
- Italian
- Romanian
- Dutch
- Swedish
- Afrikaans
- Norwegian.
... and only 11 months to learn:
- Hindi
- Russian
- Vietnamese
- Turkish
- Polish
- Thai
- Serbian
- Greek
- Hebrew
- Finnish
... and a startling 22 months to learn:
- Arabic
- Japanese
- Chinese
- Korean
I have a number of complaints about this chart:
1. Where is German? With an approx. 98 million speakers (in 2005), more people speak German than Italian, French, or Romanian. Why didn't it make the list? (BTW - German is the one additional language I'm actually interested in learning).
2. I simply wish this information were available (though the math is easy enough to do): How many hours per week and per day does this study assume I'm studying? (It breaks down to about 5 hours per day, 5 days per week, or 3.5 hours per day 7 days a week.) So, for a working person like myself, who does not have 5 hours a day during the school year to devote to language-learning, but maybe 10 hours a week... I'm looking at more like 15 months for the first group of languages, 28 months for the 2nd group, and 56 months (almost 5 years!) for the 3rd group.
3. Where does English fall on the list for people from each group? Is it inversible? (Can I assume it will take a Vietnamese speaker 11 months to learn English because it's that different and a Japanese speaker 22 months based on the measure of differences between the two languages?) I understand the basis of the chart is how long it will take for an English Speaker to learn the language, but what about all those millions and billions of English Language Learners out there?
4. Also, this list is clearly for professional language learners, ie, CIA, or Air Force members for whom 5 hours of studying a day is plausible. What do the numbers look like for children? For students who are simultaneously trying to learn content matter in the 2nd language? For children who move from a 3rd world to a 1st world country with no previous schooling? For students who move from a 1st world to 1st world country with lots of previous schooling?
The numbers that are thrown around in the world of Secondary ESOL education are 2-3 years to develop social language, 5-7 years to develop academic language, and both of those numbers fluctuate based on the students' prior schooling experience and prior exposure to English.
Anyhow, the chart is interesting and inspiring. I don't have 6 free months to learn a language from the 1st group of languages, but I do have 11 weeks to expose myself to a new language, like German or Vietnamese (which would actually be helpful in my job, unlike German). For any mono-linguals out there, act now! Acquire a second language! I'll do it with you!
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