As I had mentioned, the conference was a gathering of professional women from all over the country. My roommates included our current district director, and two past state presidents. One, of them, while a very nice, very cool woman, was also pretty conservative � not a bore, but your basic short haircut, pearls-and-twin-set-wearing type. We�ll call her Pearl.

The day of my speech, Shawn surprised me with a gorgeous flower bouquet. I called her that day, but wasn�t able to reach her, so I left a message.

That evening, Pearl and my other two roommates and I are sitting around the room, watching Top Gun on TV. (Side note: I find it interesting that no matter where you are, no matter the ages involved, a roomful of chattering women will come to an abrupt silence the moment the volleyball scene from that movie comes on. It was like someone pushed a MUTE button on the remote that controlled the room.)

At about 11:15 p.m., the phone rings. I have an inkling that it might be Shawn, because I�d called her, and because of the time. Pearl picks it up. To my surprise, she begins chatting. But after it becomes clear the caller isn�t speaking to her desired party, Pearl says, �I�ll get her.� She hands the phone across to me, with a kind of puzzled look on her face.

Pearl: �It�s Shawn. I think she called me �Buttface�.�

I raise my eyebrows, take the receiver, and say, �Hello?�

Shawn (obviously a little drunky-wunky): �I�m sorry! I�m so sorry! Jamie! Ohmygod! Sorry!�

Me: �What�s going on?�

Shawn: �I thought she was you!�

Me: �Yeah, I picked up on that. So?�

Shawn: �I called her �Fuckface�.�

There�s a short pause, where I compose myself, not sure whether to laugh, or drop the phone and sprint out of the hotel room. Finally, I responded the best way I knew how.

Me: �You�re kidding.�

Shawn: �No! I�m not! I thought she was you! I�m sorry!�

(I suppose I should take a moment to clarify, here, why Shawn would choose to address me in such a manner. Well, there�s really nothing to say, except� in our household, �Fuckface� is a term of endearment. Should you decide to come and visit, consider yourself warned.)

Shawn and I then proceeded to have a very nice chat about her evening.

When I hung up, Pearl gazed at me, with a questioning look on her face. I could have lied. I possibly should have lied. But I didn�t. I started giggling wildly, and said, �Yeah. She called you Fuckface.�

At least everyone else thought it was funny, too.