For centuries, people have claimed to be able to tell what someone’s personality is like, just by looking at a few basic physical features. Some believe that you can determine someone’s personality just by the length of their fingers! Some people find it very accurate and others think it’s a load of crap.
However, regardless of what your opinions may be, there used to be an entire area of science dedicated to things like this. Phrenology was used to analyze a person’s personality based on the measurements of their skull. Listed below are interpretations of what the shape of your nails may reveal about your personality:
1. The vertically long nail.
You’re probably a real romantic. Even-tempered with a strange but wonderful imagination. You can be a perfectionist and easily overwhelmed. You see the little things that few notice. People really love you. You get along with most people.
2. The broad-sided nail.
Unlike #1, you’re more short tempered. You are, however, a sharp, deep thinker. Even though you’re short tempered, people enjoy you for your straightforwardness. You can tell the difference between the truth and lies. That ability allows you to cut through the BS and offer the best advice. You don’t tell people what they want to hear, you tell them what they need to hear.
3 and 4. The “round-egg” nail.
You’re the endlessly happy one. You’re the pacifist. You’re the laid-back one. You enjoy doing things in a very unique way. You rarely go with the what the majority is doing. Even though you’re in touch with your feelings, you don’t often let them get the better of you.
5. The square nail.
You’re the gutsy one. You’re the one born a natural leader. You have a serious attitude that can put people off, but that makes your playful, good-natured moments all the more pleasant and fun for everyone around you.
6 & 7. The Triangular nail.
You’re the smart ones of the bunch. You’re typically innovative and brilliant when others demand perfection out of you. You often bring new ideas faster than most. People you meet are fascinated by you.
8. The almond nail.
You’re honest, friendly, and faithful. You’re polite but firm when it’s needed. People enjoy spending time with you because you find the good in them. You’re good at handling difficult situations.
9. The sword nail.
Last but not least, the sword nail. In your life, you’re often the tip of the sword. You’re ambitious. You work hard. You have your goals and you won’t stop until you meet them. You’re often well rounded and can handle tasks even far outside of your comfort zone. Your ambition is often contagious.
What are your thoughts on this?
Privileged Parents Excused Their Child for Kicking My Seat on the Flight, Claiming “He’s Just a Kid!”, Karma Delivered Them a Teachable Moment
On a long flight, a woman’s patience is tested by a child who kicks her seat and parents who ignore the disruption. What begins as a frustrating ordeal soon takes a surprising turn, revealing that karma has a way of delivering unexpected lessons.
As I settled into my aisle seat for a seven-hour flight, I hoped for some much-needed relaxation. With a book in hand, noise-canceling headphones on, and a good playlist ready, I thought I was prepared for the journey ahead. The cabin was packed and the air felt stuffy, but I was willing to endure it for a peaceful trip.
Then it began. A soft thumping at the back of my seat started to grow louder. Initially, I dismissed it, thinking a child was just adjusting in their seat. But the thumping became a steady rhythm, kick, kick, kick, each hit harder than the last.
I turned around and saw a boy, around six or seven, swinging his legs and grinning as if he were having a great time. His sneakers repeatedly slammed into my seat, creating a mini drum concert. His parents, seated nearby, were glued to their phones, completely unaware of the chaos their child was causing. I hoped the boy would tire out soon, or that his parents would notice, but the kicks only intensified.
After what felt like an eternity, I finally decided I couldn’t ignore it any longer. I turned around, offering a polite smile and asked the parents to ask their son to stop kicking my seat. The mother barely acknowledged me, dismissing my request with a “He’s just a kid!” before returning to her phone. I tried again, but the father was too engrossed in a video to care. Sensing his parents’ indifference, the boy kicked even harder, laughing as if he were winning some game at my expense.
I pressed the call button for the flight attendant, hoping she could help. She arrived, friendly and professional, and I explained the situation. She approached the family, asking them kindly to stop the boy from kicking my seat. For a brief moment, there was silence.
But as soon as she walked away, the kicks resumed, even more forceful this time. Frustrated, I stood up and spoke louder, asking them again to control their child. The mother rolled her eyes, and the father muttered something dismissive. The boy laughed and kicked harder. At this point, I was fed up. I called the attendant again, asking if I could switch to another seat. She returned shortly with good news: there was a seat available in first class.
Without hesitation, I grabbed my belongings and followed her to the front of the plane. The first-class section was a welcome relief, spacious, quiet, and free of children. I settled into my new seat, and the tension melted away. I was finally able to relax, enjoying a drink and diving into my book.
As the flight continued smoothly, I overheard the attendants talking about my old seatmates. The boy had found a new target for his kicks, an elderly woman who had taken my place. When she asked him to stop, the mother snapped at her, escalating the situation to a shouting match that caught the attention of the flight crew. I felt a twinge of sympathy for the elderly woman but couldn’t deny the poetic justice unfolding. As we prepared to land, I noticed security vehicles waiting by the gate.
When we disembarked, I saw the family being escorted off the plane by security officers. The boy, who had been so bold earlier, was now crying, clinging to his mother. The parents looked embarrassed, no longer the dismissive people they had been. I left the airport feeling a sense of satisfaction that surprised me. Karma had intervened, allowing me to enjoy my first-class experience and witness a bit of justice served.
As I walked past the family, I couldn’t help but smile at them. It was a small gesture, but it felt like the closure I needed. Sometimes, the universe has a way of balancing things out, and that day, it certainly did. With my book finished and my flight experience greatly improved, I walked away with a story that would surely entertain friends in the future.
Leave a Reply