Yeoeun is an eighth grader. Like many eighth-grade girls, she's a bit boy-crazy.
The other day in class, she said, "Sometimes you think someone is just normal looking and then you look again and you think he's cute."
I answered, with my typical detachment in these matters, "Why are you telling me this?"
"Kim Jeong-eun!" she announced, elliptically.
The other girls were scandalized by the notion of the dictator-to-the-north being in any way cute. Even I was unbalanced by this declaration. "What do you mean?" I asked.
"Think about it," she explained her peculiar epiphany. "First time you see him, you just think, 'he's little bit fat.' And you know he's crazy. So that doesn't make it better. Second time, he's still just regular. Third time… fourth time. Just normal. And then…," her eyes widened, expressively, and she went on, "one time, you look at him, and you think, 'hey, he's kinda cute.'"
With her typical sardonic aplomb, Hyein said to Yeoeun, "You need to find a boyfriend."
[daily log: walking, 7km]