You don't know Jacques

If you've been reading my blog for a while, you already know I have a thing about the names of nail polish color.

I love OPI. I love all the creative names they make up for their colors.

My real interest in the names of polish started a few years ago when I chose a color called, "My Private Jet" for a pedicure and then ended up earning an unbelievable get-away on a private jet that same month.

So, when I went for a pedicure in January, I promised myself that I would let the nail specialists at the same day spa choose my color. They were the ones who convinced me of "My Private Jet" the year before.

I loved the color they chose for me. But I was perplexed by the name: "You Don't Know Jacques"?

How could that possibly bode well for the year to come? Why not "Who Wants to be a Millionaire" or "You Look Fantastic in a New Minivan".

I was putting on the nail color this week and suddenly it all made sense.

They were right back in January. They predicted what I didn't even know yet.

Pregnancy brain.

You don't know Jacques.

I really don't.

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